Jinko Short

“Ayy lad, there she is.” Said the captain.

You pursed your lips as you beheld the shining bastion of humanity in this region of the mist continent: Sabuleum. A tightly smattering of tightly packed, ramshackle, thatched roof buildings resting on stilts that sank into the greyish muck of the delta. It reminded you of the joke you had heard a sailor tell: “Sabuleum: come for the farming, stay because the next ship doesn’t come for six months.”

“It ain’t as bad as it looks. There are good people there; God fearing folk who came here to make a better life for themselves and spread the word of the Chief God. You’d do well not to look down on them, city boy.” Said the captain.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You said. His flippancy brought a pinch of indignation; you were an imperial cartographer after all. Handpicked by the Cardinal to embark on this expedition. When the paladins cleansed the evil from this land, it would be YOUR maps that guided them to salvation. You weren’t just some hunched-back scholar either; half your training had been in the field.

“Captain! This is as close as I take ‘er.” Yelled the helmsman.

“Drop anchor!” bellowed the captain. Seamen scrambled to prepare the ship.

“Here? But we’re still so far out…” you said, eyeing the shore.

The captain chuckled and handed you an oar. “That we are, lad. The delta deposits a lot o’ ‘sentiment’ here, so the water ain’t deep. Least, that’s what one o’ your scholar friends told me once upon a time.”

You marveled to yourself at how such a simple man could possibly command a ship all the way to the Mist Continent, but here you were. Fresh, uncharted territory that extended for Chief God knows how far into the jungle. Clambering into the rowboat, you embarked for the shore through the still, black waters.

~~~~~~~

After bidding the captain and crew farewell, you meandered through the labyrinth of decrepit buildings and narrow alleyways with your contingent. Surely an Order barracks would be more livable than any of THESE squalid tenements.

“Is this it?” wondered a soldier aloud.

“Can’t be.” Said another.

“No… This is it…” sighed the commander.

Your platoon formed a crescent around the entrance to the barracks. The paint that had once proudly displayed the emblem of the Order had flaked and peeled into an unintelligible patchwork of colors. Chips of wood were missing from the outside, as if someone had been taking chunks out with a hatchet. Peering through a window, you could see the interior was just as ransacked; furniture strewn about, pieces of armor left on the floor, even a few bowls of moldy food. Disgusted, you pulled away from the grimy glass and accidentally nudged the shutter. The hinges groaned and the piece of wood snapped off and clattered to the ground. You flinched as the other soldiers looked at you.

“…Anyways, the mayor told me that this barracks was overrun by monsters a few weeks ago.”

Soldiers exchanged glances and a few whispered their thoughts on the matter. You clenched your reference book tighter; everyone here knew the risks. Monster attacks were the most common cause of death in places like this. If you let your guard down for even a second, it was curtains.

“We will NOT have the same fate befall us.” Said the commander sternly. “This land is wild. Untamed. Tainted by the perversions of demons and their ilk. We are the first and last line of defense for the people of this town. Do not despair; look around and know that you are not alone. Every man here would give their life for you, so long as you are willing to do the same. Together, we will prevail! We are the Order’s finest! Anointed by the Chief God herself! Victory is at hand, brothers, we need only seize it!”
The soldiers hollered and pumped their fists into the air. You smiled. The speech was nice, but you know the LAST guy probably said the same thing. In all likelihood, this was a suicide mission.

You ran your hand over your name embossed in the leather of your blank map book. A suicide mission… Would anyone miss you if you didn’t come back? A lifetime of study had left you with few friends. You couldn’t remember the last time your family had written back. For all you know, the only thing you would be remembered for is a few maps you made as an apprentice. Just a name on a few maps, and the roster for this expedition. Was that all your life had amounted too?

“Coming, Anon?” snickered a soldier.

“Yeah.” You nodded. Shelving your existential crisis for a more appropriate time, you hurried into the barracks to claim a good bed.

~~~~~~~

Of all the duties to have in this Gods forsaken land, cartography duty was certainly not the worst. You used your compass to map another contour of the river’s mouth as the soldiers around you were busy building fortifications and trying to placate the hordes of terrified villagers. Apparently the ingrates didn’t even want them here; the superstitious simpletons claimed that having a garrison her made monster attacks MORE frequent. How had they regressed to such a primitive and craven state in only one generation?

You looked out upon the dilapidated schoolhouse across the street. Then again…

“Anon!”

A young soldier waved to you as he approached. “Captain Clinock said we’re moving out at noon. Be ready.”

You nodded. “He doesn’t have to wait about me being late. I’M waiting on HIM to stop cavorting with these townies so that we can actually do what we were sent here to do.” You said, waggling your quill at him.

The kid snorted and held up his hands. “His words, not mine. We both know that it’ll be near sundown before we set foot past the palisades.”

You chuckled. The venue may be hellish, but at least your cohorts were kindred spirits. Good men, all of them. There were no other men in the world you would rather have at your back for this expedition. Except a hero. A hero would be your first choice any day, but apparently the Chief God is a bit of a prude when it comes to handing out divine grace.

Was that thought heresy?

You shook your head and muttered a prayer to The Lady. I didn’t mean it baby, you know I love you.

Looking out over the delta, you wondered how you were going to keep yourself sane here. In the distance, something moved at the divide between the sandy muck of the beach and start of the dense vegetation that formed the jungle. Squinting, you tried to make out what it was. The shape moved out onto the beach a few feet. Oh, just a person. Probably just a fisherman on his way to the nets. Bobbing up and down, another silhouette appeared from the brush. They gestured towards the town and scurried back into the grass. Odd. It looked like both of them were dragging some kind of stick between their legs…

Resting your level flat on the barrel you were using as a table, you assessed the position of the sun. About noon. Only a few more hours until departure…

~~~~~~~

Thunk.

“OI! Careful with that!” you squawked as a machete nearly took your nose off on the backswing.

“Shut up, scholar. If you’re just going to get in our way, you can go ease your virgin soles in front of the fire while the MEN continue the mission.” Said the soldier in front of you.

“Lay off, Gehl. He completed training like the rest of us.” Said another soldier.

“And he’s been pretty tolerable for a scholar so far.” Said another.

Thank you, Mawso. How flattering.

“’Sides, we need him. None of us know how to make a proper map. One with all the lines and stuff.”

“Maybe he’s jealous. Gehl sounds like the kind of guy who would have trouble SPELLING map.”

The company chuckled at Gehl’s expense.

“Keep yacking, and the next thing I cut won’t be a vine.” Said Gehl, waving the machete over his shoulder.

“Shut it. All of you.” Sighed Clinock. “This isn’t a vacation. In case you’ve all forgotten, we’re in demon territory. That means anything can happen. Keep your chatter to a minimum.”

“Come on, Captain. It’s not like we’re ever gonna have the element of surprise when we’re slogging through the jungle in plate mail.” Said a soldier, beating out a quick rhythm on his breast plate.

Clinock sighed. “I concede that we will not miraculously gain the upper hand on any monsters we stumble across, but we do have to remain alert. You can’t mind your surroundings and chatter like tavern wenches at the same time.”

“You know who would make a good tavern wench? Stibar.”

“Hey!”

“Ooh, I can see that.”

The squad launched into a heated debate as to whether or not Stibar could pass as a woman if dressed correctly. You made another tally on your sheet to keep track of roughly how many paces you had made so far, and reconsidered the life choices that had brought you to this point, listening to a discussion about which color dress a grown man would look cutest in. For all the respect he commanded, Clinock seemed to have given up on trying to control the raucous crowd. Or he was too invested in the discussion. Sometimes he would nod gently after a soldier finished his argument. Not you too…

Looking up, you tried to guess what time of day it was through he canopy. Three hours to sundown. As your gaze slid back to the foliage in front of you, you caught a glimpse of something. A glinting eye peering out from behind the trunk of a large tree.
“Why’d you stop, Anon?” asked the soldier behind you.

“Thought I saw something…” you said quietly.

A ripple of unease spread through the squad. Without a word, the arranged themselves as they had been trained. You took your place in the phalanx, keeping watch.

“What was it?” asked Clinock.

“I don’t know. I only saw a glimpse of it. An eye…” you whispered. “Up there.”

Clinock bobbed and stretched, trying to see the phantom. The soldiers sat silently, keen to any noise or motion in the forest.
“…I don’t see anything…” concluded Clinock. The soldiers relaxed. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.
“Fuck’s sake Anon, don’t scare us like that!” said Mawso, thumping you on the back.

“We need to keep moving.” Said Clinock. The rhythm of hacking machetes resumed as your party ventured deeper into the trees.

~~~~~~~

Home at last.

You unslung your pack and collapsed into your chair. The soldiers may have the luxury of sleep, but for you, your work had just begun. Pulling a fresh sheet of grid paper from your supplies, you began to sketch out a rough topographical map of the area you had covered. Just a short loop around the perimeter of the town today. Venturing too far out would be suicide.

A bout of shouting turned your attention to the area outside the barracks. Some of the townies were yelling something to the soldiers. One of the spindly farmers audaciously pushed a sergeant and was socked for his insubordination. Wonderful. Nice to know that the Order was making enemies INSIDE the wall too.

“You’re dooming us all! The demons, they’re attracted to men!” roared a burly townie.

“This isn’t like other Mist Continent colonies; the demons here… They are ruthless! Unrelenting!”

“Clinock! You’d better get outside and stop the savages before they kill each other.” You shouted.

“Again?!”

Clinock stomped through the doorway and down the stairs. A few seconds later he appeared below you. Waving a dented truncheon around, he began taking loose swings at soldier and peasant alike until the mob dispersed. This expedition may be the death of you, but at least it would be entertaining.

A draft snuffed the candle at your table. Damn architects couldn’t even build a structure without holes in the damn wall apparently. From your darkened room, you looked out across the flickering lights of the town and the shimmering brackish water of the delta. What an alien land. The town felt foreign as well, despite being populated by your own countrymen. Normally this would be a time of relaxation and revelry in a favorite tavern, or time to share a meal with a family. Here, no one dared to leave their house at night. Even the dull murmur of the lamps used to light the streets could be heard in the absence of all man-made sound. That, and the omnipresent din of a billion insects all trying to make themselves known. Two fisherman stood on the far side of the delta, no doubt collecting their catch. Comforting to know that there were SOME people in this town not craven enough to be driven indoors by the mere threat of monsters. Lighting your candle again, you resumed scribbling out the hill you had seen earlier.

~~~~~~~

Ahh, camping. A retreat from the chaos of the modern world. A regression to a more primal and fulfilling state of being. Hot, thirsty, hungry, and almost exsanguinated by insects. Why the hell did people ever go outside?

Now that the area outside the town had been thoroughly mapped, you and your squadron were to push deeper into the jungle to scout for demonic presence and find a suitable location for a forward base of operations. Being the cartographer, you unfortunately knew that this would be the mountain in the distance. Clinock was no more enthused by the prospect than you, but there was no better defensible point for miles.

“Are you SURE there isn’t any better place?” asked one of the soldiers.

“For the thousandth time, NO. The soil is piss-poor everywhere we go, there are no hills, and there’s no source of quarriable stone EXCEPT the mountain.” You reiterated.

“What if it’s a volcano?”

“It IS a volcano. We have to see if it’s active.” You said.

“Why the hell would we build a base on a fucking volcano?! We’ll be a hundred feet deep in ash and lava if that thing erupts!” said Gehl.

“If that thing erupts, Sabuleum is gone too.” You said.

That shut them up. Doomsaying wasn’t good for morale, but you were too irritable and itchy to care much about the dread of the people around you.

*Clang*

“Ow!” protested a soldier. You turned around to see him rubbing the back of his helmet as he picked up a rock. “Who the hell threw this?!”

Every soldier in the line looked back, including the man in the last position.

“Oh, so it was a ghost huh?” asked the soldier, tossing the rock aside.

“Wasn’t me, I saw it fly over my head.”

“Me too. And with the reputation this land has, a ghost is a real possibility.”

“I was looking at the ground.”

 There was an uneasy silence. Clinock snorted and continued walking. You took your position and continued to count the paces as you measured distance.

*Clang*

“YOU FUCKER!” snarled the soldier. “That hurt!”

The soldier had to be restrained as he tried to attack the others behind him.

“Calm down, Willem! No one threw anything!” shouted one of the soldiers holding him back.

“Then who did?!”

The soldier looked around. As his gaze swept the trees, he froze. One by one, the rest of the squad looked skyward. Amidst the great boughs of the Mist Continent trees, a troop of kakuen lounged in the branches looking down on the soldiers below.

“Hello, boys~” crooned one of the monkeys.

“POSITIO-“

Clinock’s order was interrupted by a barrage of stones. Men grunted in pain as they tried to form a defensive ring. The Kakuens cackled with laughter and swung out of the canopy. Every one of the savages was as nude as the day they were born. Muscle bulged under the skin that wasn’t covered in coarse brown hair. You shivered as one of them licked her sizable canines.

“Such handsome men!”

“So young! So fresh…”

“Did you travel all the way to the Land of the Four Fiends to meet us? Then we won’t keep you waiting any longer~”

Chaos broke out as the kakuens landed on the ground. Any soldier that was unfortunate enough to be caught outside the wall of shields and swords was wrestled into submission and dragged away by the kakuens. A few troopers tried to chase after their doomed comrades, only to be nabbed themselves. Attempting to resist was pitiful; the kakuens nimbly avoided every thrust and slash of their swords as they delivered punch after kick, laughing all the while. When they were finished playing with their food, the monkey would grapple her prey and slam him to the ground. Her sisters covered her retreat as she dragged her screaming prize up a tree to start tearing away his armor.

“Come on, don’t you want to save your friends?” teased a kakuen.

“I don’t think they’ll want to be saved soon sis~” snickered another.

You cowered at the center of the pack, unable to do anything. How could you? These creatures were perfectly adapted to fighting and moving through the jungle! Strength in numbers was the only way to survive out here.

“Oi, I said come here.” Said the kakuen, throwing a rock at the line. “The game is no fun if you don’t play.”

Some of the other monkeys seemed to share her sentiment. Upset that they were excluded from the feast, any primate that didn’t secure a meal was now trying to pick a morsel out of the phalanx. Groping hands reached down from branches, prehensile toes curled around straps and armor, and tails wormed their way around weapons as the kakuens probed the ball of shields and spikes for a weakness.

“Tch. So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” glowered the lead kakuen.

“Sister, we have plenty of men. Why not return to the village and savor our catch?” said another.

The kakuen rubbed her chin. You grimaced as an especially loud screech from one of your fallen brothers ripped through the leaves. The wet, sloppy sounds that the beasts made as they devoured him was almost enough to drive you mad. Would you all be sharing such a hellish fate? The kakuen smiled as your friend moaned and gurgled. All at once, his cries were smothered.

“I suppose you’re right. We’re a family after all; sharing is what we do~”

Leaping into the air, the monkeys swung off into the jungle.

“So long, boys~ We’ll see you around!” waved the kakuen leader as she swung away.

No one dared break formation.

“…Sound off. Who’s missing?” said Clinock.

One by one, your compatriots made themselves known. Eight failed to reply.

“We can’t stay here. Keep moving.” Said Clinock.

The mass of metal unfurled into a marching line again, but this time none dared to stray very far from the next man.

~~~~~~~~

“Anon!”

You flinched. Scurrying up past the others, you saluted Clinock. “Yes?”

“We need to find a good place to camp for the night. Some place defensible.” Said Clinock. “Give me some options.”

Yeah fucking right. It was a jungle. Not only would defense be impossible, but it would make any counteroffensive equally difficult. Unless they spent all night chopping down trees for a fort, the best they could do is settle as close together as possible and post half the regiment on guard duty.

“There aren’t many strategically viable points around here, sir.” You said.

Clinock glared at you. “I know that. I need ANYTHING. A hill, a break in the forest, a cave… anything to give us a fighting chance if demons attack in the night. I know they train you lot to predict the topography of new land, so give me a prediction.”

You scratched your head. “Near the river is probably our best bet. I’ve observed a few small waterfalls on the way here. If we can find a small one, we can use the cliff it creates to protect that flank. It would also give us water and help mask the noise we would make.”
Clinock nodded. “That sounds far better than trying to make camp out here in the open. We’ll adjust course to the river, and see where that takes us.”

Turning, Clinock hacked through another vine, veering towards the faint sound of flowing water.

~~~~~~~

“This is as good a place as any. Pitch your tents and begin fortifying. I want at least one row of spikes set up around the perimeter.” Said Clinock.

The sun was getting low in the sky, casting long shadows from the titanic trees above. You felt the heat from the dry, sandy soil as you inspected your refuge. A small cliff of volcanic rock would prevent an attack from all directions. The mighty River of the Goddess (as it had been dubbed by one of your arrogant peers in the cartography department) gurgled along beside you underneath the calamitous noise of the fall itself. For such a short drop, it made quite the racket. Trudging down to the bank of the river, you inspected one of the reeds growing there. Strange, the top of the reed almost looked like a penis…

“Anon! Don’t get to close to that river. God knows what’s in those waters…” chided Clinock.

You stepped away to help the others. Getting abducted and eaten by monkeys was bad; getting eaten while drowning was probably worse.

~~~~~

“Hey Anon, how far did we march today?” asked one of the soldiers.

You blew on the fresh ink to dry it. “Not far. Progress is going to be slow as long as we have to cleave our way through a hundred vines every step of the way.”

“Do you think we can reach the mountain tomorrow?” asked another.

“I certainly hope so. If we need to, we can always try and stick to the riverbanks. But that means getting up close and personal with any creatures or demons who come to the water to drink…”

The other men around the campfire sat silently, watching the embers float away into the night.

“…Do you think we’ll ever get back?” said Stibar.

“We can get back just fine, that’s why Anon is here.” grumbled Ghel.

“That’s not what I-“

“We know what you meant. So shut the hell up and don’t even think about finishing that thought.” Snapped another soldier.

Stibar stared morosely into the fire. “I’m going to bed.” He announced as he turned his back on the flames.

“Be ready for your shift. If you’re not up, we’re flipping your cot.”

Others chuckled. You ignored them, focusing more of your efforts on the task at hand; making sure these lunks could find their way back home. In truth, the expedition hinged on a few individuals who could reliably articulate the geography of the Mist Continent escaping with their lives. If they failed, the notes that each specialist made would provide a foundation for future explorations.

You smiled. Some big-wig in a university might have named the river, but YOU got to name the land itself. Technically it was the ape-woman who gave it the name, but it had stuck with you ever since. Land of the Four Fiends. Catchy, intimidating, and well-deserved. Once the bishops saw this they would send an army.

“ALARM!”

Men scrambled to arm themselves. Half-dressed soldiers poured out of their tents, armed with whatever weapon they could find.
“Where is it?!”

“What the fuck is attacking?!”

“I don’t hear shit, where the hell are they?”

“Everyone shut the hell up!” barked Clinock. “Who sounded the alarm?”

“I did! They’re right there!” yelled a soldier, pointing into the forest.

In the gloom, a lantern bobbed through the trees. The light vanished and reappeared as the wielder walked between the mammoth trunks. Leaves rustled. You clenched your sword as you tried to get a glimpse of the demons through the foliage. Once, you thought you heard a giggle over the sound of the waterfall.

“There they are!”

The lantern swung into view. Two women stood looking just as perplexed to find the Order in the middle of the jungle as the soldiers were to see two beautiful maidens. Their outfits were strange; an elaborate folding and wrapping of cloth that functioned both as a dress and a shirt. Judging by the gloss on their robes, the entire ensemble must be made out of silk. Both were strikingly beautiful. Blond hair flowed down to their exposed porcilan shoulders. From the way the clothing hugged their bodies, you could tell that they each had a lithe hourglass shape. A stark (and welcome) contrast from the haggard wenches and crones that populated that populated Sabuleum.

“Hold fire!” shouted Clinock.

“Dear sirs!” exclaimed one of the women. “Whatever is the meaning of all this? Camping? So far from town?”

The other girl moved behind her, clutching her waist. Strange to see blondes in the Mist Continent…

“Who are you? Identify yourself at once, or we’ll shoot you where you stand.” Barked Clinock.

The timid woman yelped and cowered behind her friend.

“I am Cyonth! This is my sister, Ferrila! We live in the village nearby!” said the larger one, clutching her sister.

“A village? All the way out here?” asked Clinock incredulously.

“Yes! We heard the commotion, so we came to investigate. Are you lost? It isn’t safe for humans to be here! These woods belong to the monsters.” Said Cyonth.

“And how, pray tell, does an entire VILLAGE of people survive in a demon infested jungle? You’re probably demons yourselves…” said Clinock.

“No! Our people have lived here for generations! We have learned how to ward away evil through spells and rituals!” said Cyonth. Digging into her robe, she pulled out a paper talisman with intricate patterns. “We hide our presence. Without these charms, the demons would have devoured us years ago. Please, come to the village! You can spend the night there, safe from the horrors of the jungle. We have food aplenty and comfortable beds. It has been some time since our village has entertained guests; the others will be eager to meet travelers such as yourselves.”

“We can even teach you our magics, if it would help you.” Offered Ferrila.

“What the hell is going on…” muttered Gehl.

“Can we spare the time to learn such things? To learn an entire magical art could take months…” speculated one of the battle mages.
“I think we should go. We cannot pass up a chance to learn such potent magic!” said another mage.

“Why would we pass up a chance at a warm bed?” asked Stibar.

“Yes! And we could restock our rations as well.” Said Mawso.

“Fools! They’re demons. Look at them! Do you really think that the monsters of these woods would allow them to pass unmolested because of a piece of paper?” said Clinock.

“If our presence causes you consternation, we will leave at once.” Said Cyonth sorrowfully. “Apologies for intruding.”

The sisters gave a small bow and walked off into the underbrush.

“Wait!” cried Mawso. “I’m coming with you!”

He vaulted over the spikes and hurried after the sisters.

“STOP!” roared Clinock.

“Fuck it, I’m going too.” Said one of the mages.

“Not without me you aren’t!” said another.

“Mawso! Come back!” yelled Stibar. He hurried past the perimeter and into the labyrinth of leaves behind the others.

“The next person to leave gets shot!” shouted Clinock. The archers hefted their bows.

“Easy Clinock, they’re right there.” Said a soldier, pointing to the lantern bobbing away.

“Hmph. You, go get them. Bring them back. We can stop by the village on the way back to resupply.” Said Clinock, gesturing to a soldier. The half-dressed man gave a quick salute and ran after his comrades into the forest.

As soon as he vanished behind the underbrush, the lantern disappeared behind a tree. Seconds passed and the light never reappeared. The hair on your neck raised.

“…Where are they?”

“They’re just behind some trees, calm down. We’ll see them again in a moment.”

“I don’t hear anyone…”

The soldier was right. You could no longer make out the sounds of clumsy men clambering over logs and through brush over the sound of the waterfall. Come to think of it, the girls had been eerily silent in their approach as well. You hadn’t heard so much as a twig break before they announced themselves. The only thing you HAD heard was…

A soft giggle, just barely perceivable over the din of the flowing water rolled through the trees.

“Chief God…”

“Are they…dead?”

“Stibar…”

Bugs began to chirp their nightly serenades again, commingling with the low hiss of the fires and the bass rumbling of the waterfall. Little by little the rest of the company relaxed as they realized the (immediate) threat had passed.

“…Extra shifts. If you see ANYTHING move out there, you keep shooting until it stops moving.” Commanded Clinock.

Everyone returned to their posts or cooking pots, bunt none dared turn their back on the forest again.

~~~~~~~

Soon.

Soon you would be halfway there. Once you arrived at the foot of the mountain and found a suitable place to set up a fortification, you could head back to town. Back through all the demons and monsters.

Your feet dragged as you realized how impossible it would be to return. The only saving grace of the company had been its numbers; demons KNEW that they were here. Having enough people to form a proper defensive formation was integral to their survival. And now almost a quarter of the men were gone. Including some of the irreplaceable mages. So far all you had encountered were packs of savages or tricksters, but if any of the demons in this land were competent shamans or spell casters it would be troublesome to deal with. Losses would compound from here on out.

“Hold up a moment.” Said one of the other scholars.

The man bent down to run a hand full of soil through his fingers and inspect a rock.

“We’re on the volcano now.” He said dusting his hands clean. “This is good stone, we can quarry this.”

“Chief God be praised. Anon, find us a suitable location and let’s get the hell out of here.” Said Clinock.

You nodded. Like hell you were going to pick a good spot. You were going to pick ANY spot and pass it off as a good location. Let the army figure out a better place. It was their fort after all.

Leading the way, Clinock continued through the underbrush.

“Something ain’t right…” muttered Ghel.

“What are you talking about? We’re in the middle of a demon-infested jungle. Of course something isn’t right.” Scoffed another soldier.
“Can’t you feel it too? Like we’re being watched…” said Ghel.

The rest of the squad plodded on.

“…Chances are we’ve been watched since we left town.”

“Yeah Ghel. Calm down.”

“I’m telling you, something isn’t right!” insisted Ghel.

“Pipe down and keep marching.” Said Clinock.

You swung your machete weakly at a nearby vine. The vegetation had thinned considerably. Seems you were in some sort of glade; perhaps the volcanic soil wasn’t conducive to growing shrubs. The trees around here were certainly different from the ones you had seen so far.
“I’m surprised you actually shut up, Ghel.” Chuckled a soldier near the back of the column. “...Ghel?”

Heads snapped to the back of the line. By now everyone was acutely aware that if it took someone longer than a few seconds to respond, they were probably halfway into a demon’s gullet.

“Where is he?” asked Clinock.

“I don’t know, he was right behind me…” said the soldier who now occupied the last spot in the line.

“Find him!”

Soldiers scrambled to find their missing companion.

“Sir! Look!”

A soldier held aloft Ghel’s machete.

“Defensive positions!” barked Clinock.

You leapt into the center of the mob as the grunts took their positions around you.

“I said positions, you louts! What the hell is this?!” shouted Clinock.

“Bram and Hawley are gone!” shouted another soldier.

“Are we under attack?!”

“Where’s the enemy?!”

Ghel was right: something was very wrong. Even with no foliage, you couldn’t see any demons or animals anywhere. The sound of leaves swishing and branches creaking echoed through the glade, but you couldn’t make out what was causing the unearthly sound.

“Chief God, Chief God…”

“Get a hold of yourself!”

“Something just touched my leg!” shrieked a soldier. He hopped out of the phalanx, swatting and swinging at the dirt.

“There’s nothing there, Ligin! Calm down!” pleaded another soldier.

Swinging his sword down once more, Ligin lodged his sword into one of the thick roots that snaked along the ground. All around you, wood groaned. That deep, waning moan a tree makes just before it falls to a woodsman’s axe. The damaged root slithered away from the phalanx, retreating across the ground to the tree.

One soldier jostled you as he fell back into the circle. “Gods above! The trees! Look at the trees!”

There in the bark, barely perceptible, you could see a pair of eyes peering back at you. The bark parted, and the shape of a curvaceous woman made of wood emerged from the tree. Her long, flowing hair was made of grass interlaced with flowering vines. Her face was angular and thin, but would have been pleasant to look at were it not adorned with a demons pointed ears.

A vine lashed out and wrapped around Ligin’s leg. With overwhelming strength, the plant demon hoisted him into the canopy in an instant. More woman began to emerge from the other trees like some sort of perverse parasitic borer finally worming its way into the light of day. A root lashed out and scattered half a dozen men across the forest floor. Thick vines shot down from the branches above and grabbed the soldier next to you. He screamed as they carried him skyward. You watched, powerless, as they moved him next to one of the muscular tree-women. She frowned and took off his helmet. Taking his face in her hands, she inspected his face and nodded. The bark of her tree split. Great wooden teeth opened up in a cavernous maw, revealing the hollow interior of the tree. The vines tossed the soldier inside and the wooden teeth snapped shut behind him, silencing his pleas for salvation. As the horrid creature’s mouth closed, the woman sank back into the trunk as well.

“Run! We can’t fight these beasts with steel!” shouted Clinock.

Chaos erupted as the others pushed past you to escape the arborous onslaught. Shouts faded with a wicked doppler-effect as one by one your friends were carried away into the trees. In that moment, their deaths were meaningless to you; all you could think about was self-preservation. Your feet churned through the black volcanic soil as you ran for your life. Some of the soldiers ran with you, some in different directions.

At last, the thickening underbrush of this accursed land halted your retreat, forcing you to unsheathe your machete and hack away a path. With shaking hands, you fumbled the blade as you tried to slip it back into the sheath. This was it, wasn’t it? You were alone in the middle of hostile territory. Doomed to starve or be eaten by demons. Chief God, why had you taken this mission?

“Hello?! Anyone?!” you shouted. To hell with it, what was the worst that could happen? A demon would show up? At least that would save you a week of suffering.

“Over here!”

You hurried towards the sound. Shoving some branches aside, you caught your leg on a vine and landed face first in the muck.
“Anon!” said Clinock, helping you to your feet. “Thank the Chief God you made it out.”

“Who else?” you asked, spitting out a twig.

“Not enough…” said Clinock.

A few other soldiers rested against trees, trying to catch their breath. Many had discarded their weapons or pieces of their armor in their escape.

“What do we do, captain?” you panted.

Clinock pursed his lips and looked at the sky. “We try to make it back.”

“That’s suicide.” Said a soldier.

“It’s all we can do.” Snapped Clinock.

“Then we’ll need to find food and water.” Said another soldier.

Clinock nodded. “Keep an eye out for any fruit. Or small game. Anything we can eat, we don’t have the luxury of being picky. A damn shame we can’t go to that village those demons promised us…”

You pointed the way home, and what little remained of the platoon moved out.

~~~~~~

“I’m freezing.” Said Ghel.

You shoved your hands as close to the minuscule fire as you could.

“If you want to look for a blanket, be my guest. Otherwise, you’re going to have to tough it out. We can’t build anything bigger without attracting attention.” Said Clinock.

Someone’s stomach growled. Your only sustenance had been a berry bush that everyone had picked clean a few hours ago. A few snares had been set, but apparently game in the Mist Continent was too smart for ropes and tricks.

“We should sleep. Everyone stay close together for warmth. Anon, are you fine taking the first watch?” asked Clinock.

You nodded.

“Good. Stay alert. Wake us if you hear something. If I’m going to be eaten, I’d at least like to face down my killer with dignity.” Said Clinock.

~~~~~~~

The embers of the fire flared as you prodded them with a stick, trying to coax out heat you knew was beyond their potential. Your friends sat huddled together in a row, each clinging to the man in front of him. Poor bastards, they didn’t deserve this.

You shuddered. There it was again, that insidious feeling that you were being watched. The hair-raising instinct passed down from your ancestors when they too feared what lay beyond the light of the fire. Slowly, you turned around.

Two eyes stared at you through the underbrush, gleaming in the moonlight. You stared back into the citrus colored lights, paralyzed with fear.

“Guys…” you croaked, fumbling for the foot of the nearest soldier. You slumped over in the dark, fumbling for the nearest man.
Realizing you had taken your eyes off the thing in the dark, you looked back.

It was upon you now. Close enough to see. Those same citrine eyes boring into you with singular focus, socketed in a face just as intent on you. Streaks of color marred her cheeks, accented by her long, tawny hair cascading around her cheeks. The beast woman was frozen in place by your gaze, her heavy breasts barely concealed by the scrap of fabric she wore around her chest. A slender tail flicked back and forth in the moonlight behind her.

“Oh…!” was all you could muster, seeing the thing so close. Too startled to even scream.

The demon’s ears flicked at the noise.

You lunged onto the pile of armored soldiers. “Wake up! Now!”

The world blurred as you were tackled to the ground. You shrieked as teeth sank into your shoulder. Other men cried out, but a chorus of savage snarls told that this demon was not a solitary hunter. Massive claws scratched at your arms as the beast pinned you to the ground.

Detaching from your shoulder, the creature licked your blood from its lips and inspected its prize. Your stomach contorted as it grinned. Sniffing your face, it let out some kind of warbling sigh. A long, bristled tongue slipped out of her mouth. You gagged at the stench of rotten meat and viscera on her breath as she scraped your cheek with the warm, wet appendage. Planting one of her massive feet on your chest she stood up. You tried to shove her away, but the claws on her foot pressed into your skin.

She dragged you to your feet, wrapping her arms around your entire torso with your arms folded to your sides. Swinging your foot back as hard as you could, you drove your heel into her shin. She grunted in pain and growled. No, antagonizing the thing manhandling you was probably not the best idea right now.

Now that you were upright, you could see that all the other soldiers had been captured in a similar manner. A beast-woman stood over each one, inspecting their prize or chattering amongst themselves in their guttural language. Seems like these were tiger folk, but that was impossible. All other accounts of these ‘jinkos’ depicted them as honorable monsters who used martial arts to hone their bodies and souls. These were savages, plain and simple. Were they all secretly like this? Was it all some façade to beguile the Order into a false sense of security?

You thought back to the figures you had seen on the beach. Apparently there were no fisherman on the far side of the river; the townsfolk had instead that it was too dangerous and that no humans operated on the far bank. Was it these beast women that you had seen? Had they been watching you from the start, waiting for your contingent to leave the town?

Branches scratched your face as the jinko started off through the jungle with you. Even when she moved you to one arm to push away an obstacle, you made no effort to escape. It’s not like you could make it back to Sabuleum on your own. Besides, the jinko was warm and her fur was soft. Resting your head against her chest, you did your best to avoid any undue pain as she carried you to your doom.

~~~~~~

You could see fire through the trees. Jinkos leered down at you and your captor from the boughs of the great jungle trees above. Occasionally one would call out to the one carrying you, and you would be held up for the other to see. One of the jinkos you passed snorted as your jinko held you up. The one carrying you nearly deafened you as she shouted back at the apparently offending jinko. Clutching you tighter, she muttered something to herself and continued towards the fires.

Dozens of huts were arranged in semicircles around massive bonfires. Demons meandered about in the moonlight, conversing and eating around their fires. Some even drank alcohol, judging by the blush on their feline faces. But none of these things held your attention. What interested you the most was the men.

Most of the demons had a man in tow. Sitting next to them, held in their lap, sleeping against them… men were everywhere. Some jinkos were even in mid coitus with a human male partner. You gulped and looked away. A glimmer of hope flickered in your heart. Maybe the reports of jinkos wasn’t wrong after all. Maybe all these demons wanted were chattel, not lunch. Being a slave wouldn’t be so bad. Better than death. Right?

“Welcome.”

You whipped your head around to see a man addressing you. A matronly jinko stood behind him, looking down at you. She narrowed her eyes and placed a paw on the man’s shoulder. It was half the size of his torso…

“Me?” you asked dumbly.

“Yes! Welcome! It’s been some time since we’ve had some fresh blood around here.” Said the man.

“Fresh blood…?” you echoed.

“Ah, forgive me. A poor expression.” Said the man. “No ha- less harm will come to you if you listen to what they say.”

The jinko that was carrying you set you down on the ground.

“I know you must have many questions, but I don’t have time to answer them right now. Understand this, obedience is everything to these jinko.” He said solemnly.

The jinko behind him said something to him. He nodded and knelt down. Pushing aside her loincloth, he began to service her then and there. You gawked at the display. One of those strange reverberating groans slipped out of the jinko’s lips as the man squeezed her thighs. Your own jinko huffed and placed her paw on your shoulder. You winced and pulled away as she brushed over your bite.
As soon as you flinched, the elder jinko’s eyes widened. She pushed past the other man and used one of her claws to shear away some of your shirt. Seeing the bite mark on your shoulder, she began to shout at your jinko. Whatever was being said, your tiger wasn’t having any of it. She turned her head and folded her ears back as the elder lambasted her. When the tirade was finished, your jinko mumbled something and pulled you closer.

“She said sorry.” Said the man.

“To who?” you asked.

“You. That one is Amoyen. This is her mother.” He said, rubbing the other jinko’s thigh.

You were unsure what to do with this information.

“Anyways, looks like Amoyen is raring to go, so I’ll leave you to it. Just hold on tight. I’ll teach you their language if you ever have any spare time.” he said.

Amoyen’s leg knocked your own out from underneath you and she caught your falling body. Cradling you in her arms, she trotted off towards a hut. You tried to squirm out of such an embarrassing hold, but to no avail. Screaming emanated form the hut next door to the one Amoyen was carrying you towards. As you passed the doorway, you saw one of your comrades underneath a jinko almost twice his size. His voice had a sickening vibrato as his body was crushed under her thick hips over and over again. Semen was already leaking out of her, but she clearly had no regard for anything but her own pleasure. Amoyen smiled when she saw your terrified expression.

The interior of the hut matched its austere exterior. A straw mattress and some shelving were the only pieces of furniture. Clothes (rags) were strewn about over cooking implements, weapons, stones, and rudimentary tools. Amoyen wasted no time dumping you onto the pile of straw. Shedding her top and loin cloth, she tossed them aside and started towards you. Her body glistened with a sheen of sweat in the humid night air. Her muscles were lean, but well defined. As she bent down to look at you, her modest breasts pressed together forming a small valley of cleavage capped by tiny pink peaks. Chief God, is this what nuns were hiding under their habits all this time?

“Wait…” you said, scooting yourself backwards.

As you moved, her pupils dilated and she inhaled sharply. She leapt at you with such force that her feet left claw marks in the dirt floor. You held up your arm to shield yourself from the onslaught, but she swatted it aside with the back of her hand and pinned your chest against the ground with the other.

The last of your clothing was shredded without concern. She was incredibly adroit to be able to make such precise cuts without harming you in the process. Pulling the last threads of cotton from between her claws, Amoyen slid forward and planted her crotch in your face. Her paws seized your head and forced your nose and mouth against her sex.

“Tien.” She grunted.

“What?” you asked, muffled by her flesh.

“Tien!” she commanded.

“I don’t know what that means!” you pleaded.

Amoyen’s lip curled up as she snarled. You stared at her fangs. She closed her eyes and thought for a second, grinding against your face all the while. It was getting harder to think as the musky air permeated your brain and tainted your thoughts. Pressure built in your crotch.

“Lig.” Said Amoyen.

“Lig?”

Amoyen growled again. She stuck her tongue out and waggled it.

“Lick?” you asked.

“Shin sai zuoh!” shouted Amoyen. One of her claws scraped your cheek hard enough to leave a mark but light enough not to break the skin.

With your life on the line, you tentatively extended your tongue into your tigress mistress. She let out a hiss of pleasure and pressed her hips harder against your lips. You did your best to keep your composure as the taste of sweat and sex permeated your nose and mouth. A fresh bead of sweat rolled down from her abs. Your hips shifted as the feeling of arousal mounted.

Amoyen let go of your head, only to clench it between her thighs as you continued to pleasure her. Your breaths became more labored and irregular as they formed an almost vacuum seal around your face. All you could do was stare up at her with pleading eyes. Amoyen smiled back at you. Panting, her movements became more erratic and irregular. The vice of her thighs grew tighter. A high-pitched moan rolled out of her clenched teeth as fluid dribbled into your mouth.

You gasped as Amoyen relinquished her grip on your head. Wiping your face, you tried to reposition yourself. The tigress reached behind her and ran one of her claws along your shaft. Instinctively you tried to pull away. Another claw pinched your member from the other side securing you in place.

“Biao xin ziji.” Said Amoyen.

Breathing heavily, you could only pray that she didn’t decide to rip your penis off. What a way to die…

Amoyen pinched tighter and chuckled as you yipped. She left a trail of moisture on your chest as she slid herself down your body. Positioning herself above your dick, she used the flat part of two claws to direct your dick towards her sex. Without warning or ceremony, she slammed herself down far enough to hilt you. You gasped in unison as the pleasurable sensation rocked your bodies. She recovered first. The muscles in her legs tensed as she lifted herself up again, only to drop back down with even more force. You grunted with every impact. It felt like she weighed at least twice as much as you; and most of it was muscle. The only reason your hips weren’t already bruised was the plush layer of muscle and fat in her thighs and hips shielding you from her pelvic bone. Her thrusting wasn’t the only brutal part of the intercourse either. Be it instinctual or practiced, she had a masterful control over her pelvic floor. Powerful unseen muscles pulled you in and tried to keep you there as she battered you against the ground.

Amoyen threw her head back and roared as she found a particularly pleasurable spot to scratch with your member. Her hips began to gyrate in time with her savage thrusts. The combined motion was more than you could take. The Chief God had bestowed many miracles upon the world, but resisting this demon’s ministrations was beyond even Her power. You grit your teeth as you felt yourself release inside her. Amoyen cooed and pinned you to the ground with her hips, twisting against you to ensure that your dick was as deep as possible.
She sat like that for a few seconds, staring down at her hips. For all the fucking she had just done, she looked no worse for wear. You on the other hand, were a sweaty mess. How the hell were you more fatigued than her when she had done all the work?

Amoyen unseated herself from your shaft and walked out of the hut. Was that it? That wasn’t so bad. You stretched your legs. The pounding would leave you sore tomorrow, but a few bruises was nothing you couldn’t handle. You sat up and began inspecting the hut. Did they all look like this, or was Amoyen just a slob?

Amoyen returned, carrying a gourd. Her eyes flared with anger when she saw you.

“Han shia, ba!” she snarled, pointing to you.

“W-what?” you stammered, crawling back on your hands.

Amoyen crossed the hut in two strides. You flinched as one of her massive paws reached down for you. What backwards taboo had you broken this time?! She seized your throat between the thumb and index claws of one paw. She hauled you to your feet by your throat as you gasped and kicked. Her eyes bore holes into yours as you tried to plead with her.

“Drink.” She said, forcing the gourd to your lips with her free hand.

You balked at her request, too astonished by the notion that this hulking mass of muscle and sadism could speak a word in your language.

“Dring!” said Amoyen, shaking you back and forth.

She pushed the gourd against your lips and a sweet liquid began to pour into your mouth. Coughing and sputtering, you did your damndest to swallow every last drop; no matter what it was, ingesting poison was safer than incurring the ire of this cat. Amoyen groaned and rolled her eyes as a dribble of liquid escaped your lips and ran down your body. The nerve! It was her fault for pouring too fast!
 She tossed you back down on the pile of straw. Hardly a pile anymore; there was now a divot from where you had been savaged. Mud was starting to cake on your back in some places. Understanding that everything would work better for both parties if you just let her manhandle you, you sat back and waited for her next move.

Amoyen eyed you as you lay. Her face was still too intense to look at. She grinned as you looked at the wall of the hut. Lying down next to your crotch, she prodded your semi-erect member with a claw. You winced.

“Don’t touch that. I just came.” You said.

Amoyen grabbed your manhood roughly in her paw and gave it an experimental pump. You yelped and tried to pull away from her.
“Hey! I just said that was sensitive, you dumb animal!” you shouted.

Amoyen glared at you and you decided that a few exploratory prods were worth not getting eviscerated by a tiger-woman. She was just curious about your body, that’s all. Once she was finished inspecting the goods, she would leave you alone.
Shifting your cock around in her paws, she gave it a hesitant sniff. Unfurling her long tongue, you realized she was more than just curious.

“Hey! Stop! I said-“

You grunted in pain and pleasure as her tongue traced its way around the head of your dick. Apparently Amoyen’s tiger heritage applied to her tongue as well. It was rough, abrasive, and worst of all, strong. The worst combination of attributes when you were still recovering from your last load. You shot up to grab her head as she continued her sand-paper fellatio on your aching member.

This time, Amoyen made no effort to stop you. You grabbed her head and clasped handfuls of hair and ear as she continued to lick you. Grappling her skull with all your might, you tried to pull her off and give your poor dick the much needed rest it deserved. Amoyen tolerated only a few shoves. You squealed as she nipped your shaft. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to remind you who was in charge here. Pain or not, you weren’t leaving until she was finished with you. Curling up around her head, you held on for dear life as her ministrations continued. The liquor that was in the gourd was starting to hit you too. Your whole body throbbed in time with your heartbeats. It felt like every drop of blood in your body was now flowing towards your crotch. Panting, you watched Amoyen’s tail flit back and forth as the world began to grow hazy.

Your cock was numb by the time you came again. The first orgasm had been pleasurable enough but the second one left you feeling a bit drained. Amoyen let out one of her happy, high-pitched snorts as she tasted your seed dribble out. That infernal tongue made short work of your sperm, scraping and tormenting your re-sensitized dick.

Amoyen pulled away from you and pushed you back into the mess of mud and straw. Resting beside you, she hovered her face a few inches over yours. You looked back into her bright, amber-yellow eyes. The light from the fire outside was obscured as another jinko darkened the door. It looked like the one from earlier. She glared down at her daughter.

“Zhage defing hesh lun! Rahng ta xiaxi yixia.”

Amoyen whined something back, but her mother unleashed a barrage of shouts while pointing at the sloppy state of the hut. Amoyen sighed and rolled her eyes. Her mother’s eyes widened and she took a step into the hut. Amoyen yelped and clutched you tightly to her modest breasts. She pleaded out a string of what sounded like apologies as she buried her face in your shoulder. You looked sheepishly up at the elder. She glowered back down at you. Shaking her head, she hung another gourd by the door, admonished Amoyen one last time, and left.

Amoyen remained at your side for a moment. Her presence was torture with the jungle-wine running through your veins. Your whole body felt unbearably hot, and Amoyen’s body heat made it feel as if your brain was going to melt out your ears. Groaning in discomfort, you tried to pull away from her.

She let you go, grinning at you lecherously.

“Shunpie gun dou ma?” she smiled.

“Water…” you croaked.

Amoyen cocked her head. Shrugging she stood up and straddled you so that her rear was facing you. Each globe looked so tantalizingly soft; until she moved. As her powerful quadriceps moved her legs, you could see past the thin layer of fat that beguiled the tight muscles in her ass. Without warning, she plopped down onto you and worked your dick inside her again.
By now you were too tired, drugged, and despondent to care. All you could do was moan as she pounded your hips into the mud floor of the hut. When she decided that she wasn’t getting enough leverage, Amoyen began to contort your body into a strange conformation. Squatting over you and lifting your legs, she folded you into a “C” shape. Stuffing your legs into her armpits, she moaned happily as she mashed her pelvis into yours.

Everything felt good. You sighed as the combination of endorphins, dopamine and drugs sank you into the floor. Warmth radiated out from your shaft with each thrust of Amoyen’s hips. Pain gave way to pleasure. The rhythm became predictable. You found yourself being lulled into sleep by the rocking motion. One last time, you felt your member erupt inside of Amoyen. The last thing you felt was her muscular interior coaxing the last trickle of semen out of your shaft.

~~~~~~

Your awakening was just as brutal as the fucking you had endured. A bucket of cold water.

Sleeping in Amoyen’s arms had been pleasant enough. Apparently. You hadn’t woken up during the night (though that was probably more of the exhaustion) and she had left you unmolested for the remainder of the evening. Now you were scrambling around in a panic as your nerves politely informed you that your warm body was now a bit chilly.

Amoyen screamed and nearly cleaved you in half with her claws as she flailed in confusion. Her mother stood in the entrance to the hut, empty bucket in hand. The man from last night stood near her.

She began to yell at Amoyen again, but the prodigal daughter was having none of it today. Amoyen pounced at her mother from the ground. The old woman moved like greased lighting as she caught Amoyen and slammed her into the ground. Driving a knee into her back, the mother began to yell at Amoyen as the darling daughter wailed and thrashed. The conflict resolved as mommy dearest put Amoyen into an arm-bar, forcing a concession out of her. Snorting, her mother released her and wandered off with her man in tow.

Your stomach growled. Getting raped sure takes a lot out of you. Too bad you couldn’t walk. The throbbing in your hips told you that locomotion was a pipedream for the time being. Amoyen returned to the hut grumbling about something.

“Please, I need food…” you said.

Amoyen picked up one of her stone tools. “Food?”

You nodded. “Yes! Food! And water.”

Amoyen wandered off and returned a moment later with a piece of meat on a stick. Breakfast in bed, how lovely. You dug into the crispy mystery meat without concern for what it might be. Suddenly, you realized that this may well be one of your friends that you were eating.

“Is this…?” you asked Amoyen.

She gave you a frustrated glare. Oh, right, she didn’t speak much of your language.

“Huh?” she asked in annoyance.

“Human meat?” you asked, pointing from the kebab to yourself.

Amoyen nodded. “Yours. Eat.”

You blanched. Pinching your skin, you asked the question again. Amoyen cocked her head.

“Pik meat.” She said.

“Pig?”

Amoyen rolled her eyes and made a rough pig imitation. You sighed in relief. That was close.

“Stay. Sleeb.” Said Amoyen, tossing you a gourd of water.

Who were you to argue? Amoyen took a stone axe and sauntered out into the sunshine. Curling up in the straw, you went back to sleep to the sound of birdcalls and the wind rushing through the trees.

~~~~~~

“Ub.”

You grunted as Amoyen shoved you with her foot. She bent down and shook you with her massive claws. Her fur was so soft…
“Ub!” she commanded.

She lifted you out of bed and set you on your feet. You clutched her forearm to stabilize yourself as your legs refused to support the entirety of your weight. Amoyen didn’t seem to mind. She let you rest most of your weight on her sinewy arms as you found your footing. Picking your trousers up of the ground, Amoyen held them open for you to slip into. Once you were decent, she hauled you out into the daylight. Other jinkos eyed you as you left. They called out to Amoyen, hooting and hollering as they pointed at you. Amoyen yelled something and waved back at them and steered you into the woods.

“Waher.” She said, pointing into the forest.

Whatever you say, lady. The fear of being eaten alive had all but subsided now. Judging by the age of some of the men you saw in the huts, it was clear that the jinkos were not the maneaters that you had imagined them to be. They didn’t talk much, but it didn’t look like they were beaten and shackled either.

Amoyen’s accented order became clear when you heard the roar of another waterfall. You wondered how Mawso and the others who were taken by the creatures of the night were doing. Maybe by some miracle they too found demons who were more interested in slaves than meals.
The footpath ended at the rim of a basin carved over the eons by a waterfall above, eventually spilling down another short waterfall at the far end of the basin. Jinkos and their men were bathing and lounging on the hot, black rocks along the edge. No matter what the couple was doing, the man was apparently tending to his mistress. You watched fascinatedly as a man carefully filed the toe-claws of a jinko as she chatted with the tiger woman receiving a massage next to her. Amoyen disrobed you (not like you were wearing much anyways) and tossed you into the pool. Tossed in every sense of the word. You gasped and sputtered as you exhaled the strange tasting mineral water. It was deeper than you expected. Amoyen stripped and dove in after you as you struggled to tread water. She effortlessly closed the distance between the two of you and held you above the water. Giggling, she imitated some of your coughs and hacks. You glared at her. She just let out one of her rumbling sighs and stroked your cheek with a claw.

“Anon!”

You looked to the shore. Ghel was waving to you, frantically hopping up and down on a small beach of black sand.
“Ghel! Glad to see you’re still alive.” You said.

Amoyen paddled over to him and the jinko next to him. She was a strong swimmer to be able to move so fast with only one arm.
“Man, this is crazy! I never thought I would see the sun rise again after last night.” Said Ghel, shielding his eyes as he admired the sky.

“Tell me about it. Though I guess we’re slaves now…” you said.

Amoyen started chatting with Ghel’s jinko in her native tongue.

Ghel nodded solemnly. “Seems so. Far as I can tell, men are second class here. If you don’t follow orders, they teach you a lesson.”
“Where are the others?” you asked.

“Some have come and gone. I’ve seen most everyone at some point today.”

“How’s Clinock? I know he must be taking this hard. The old bastard is probably formulating an escape plan as we speak.” You said.
Ghel’s face darkened. “Anon… The hut I was in was near the one Clinock got dragged into. He was… not happy with the situation. When the demon who caught him tried to… did yours fuck the shit out of you?”

You thrust your open hands at the splotches of purple around your hip bones. Chief God, now that he mentioned it, it really was painful. Death by internal bleeding sounded like an awful way to die.

“Ah. Well, Clinock fought back. Hard. So did some of the other guys, but I could hear him even over the sound of us.” Said Ghel rubbing the thigh of his jinko. “At one point, he got out.”

“He got out?!” you asked.

“Out of the hut. But he didn’t get far. Anon, they…” Ghel gulped. “They ganged up on him. It happened right out in the open. Chief God, I had to bury my face in these tits just to keep myself from looking at it.” He said squeezing one of her large breasts. The jinko let out a surprised moan but didn’t complain. “One after the other, they brutalized him over and over. Used their teeth and claws too. Looks like you got some lovebites on your shoulder, but they were tearing into his chest and thighs too. Three of ‘em. Gods, you should have seen him this morning, Anon. Don’t know how the man was still breathing. Didn’t even have the strength to stand.”
Ghel’s mistress pulled him closer and directed his other hand to her free breast. Amoyen kept chatting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Hell, maybe this was ordinary now.

“Shit Anon, looks like you got gypped in the tit department.” Snickered Ghel.

True enough, his jinko was far more buxom than your lean Amoyen. You felt slightly annoyed at the comment, but couldn’t figure out why. It’s not as if you cared about her feelings after all. It was just the way he said it. Having smaller breasts didn’t make Amoyen worse than his jinko.

“Shut up. You got a chubby one.” You said. Chubby was a stretch, but she definitely had a thin layer of pudge over her muscles that Amoyen lacked.

Ghel snorted. “You always did have no taste in women.”

Amoyen concluded her talk and gently shoved you away.

“Alright! I’m going…” you said. “We need to teach them to speak Common.” You said to Ghel.

“Mine speaks a bit. The old man said that they picked up a few words from captured slaves. He says we have to speak their language if we want to survive.” Said Ghel as you were herded away.

Good thing you already had a leg up on the competition. You hadn’t spent all those years studying for nothing. Learning a new language should be a piece of cake. Right?

Amoyen walked you over to a mud pit set back a ways from the bank of the pool. Several other jinkos were there, getting a strange massage from their slaves. The man would heap a pile of mud onto his mistress’s back, and rub the thick grey muck into her skin. Amoyen found a vacant spot and flopped down belly first.

“Roh.” She said pointing at her back.

You obliged her and hesitantly scooped the first fistful of warm earth onto her back. She hissed with delight as a rivulet of mud ran down her belly. Watching the adjacent couple carefully, you did your best to mimic his movements. His jinko snorted.

“Hey! Yours does that too!” you exclaimed. Maybe it was a familial thing.

The man looked at you quizzically. “Huh?”

“That sigh thing that she did. Mine does that all the time.” You said.

“The all do that. It’s called a chuff. Least that’s what the rest of the men call it.” He said returning to his work.

Amoyen poked you with a claw. “Guun quie.”

Piling more mud onto her, you ran your filthy fingers across the contours of her back. Life in the jungle had made her hard as iron. You gulped as the sinew churned and undulated under your fingers. Every point of tension required the entirety of your strength to loosen. Occasionally you had to use your elbow to dig in far enough to get a knot. Amoyen moaned and chuffed as you worked her over. She watched you over her shoulder, tickling your face with her tail if you began to slack off.

“Datwoi.” She commanded.

You hesitated. What the hell did that mean?

“Thighs.” Said the guy next to you without looking up.

Thanks chief. Moving south, you began to knead her powerful thighs and buttocks. Her toe paws curled and stabbed into the mud as you teased the interiors of her legs. She looked back at you with a bemused smirk. She shifted her hips and you brushed against her cunt. Amoyen yipped and glared back at her. You held up your hands defensively; it was her that had moved after all.

Snorting, Amoyen stood up. Her pink nipples had disappeared under a fine cake of mud. She pushed you down into the mud and rolled you over with her foot. You cried out in protest as the warm sludge coated your body. Amoyen laughed as you spat out a mouth full of mud and glared up at you. She asked you something in what was obviously a condescending tone and laughed at her own joke.

“Lai.” She said.

“Follow.” Said the other guy.

“I know that…” you grumbled.

You strung a string of curses together as you followed Amoyen back to the pool, the mud on your feet sticking to every stray leaf or twig you stepped on. At the bottom of the basin, the pool drained down another short waterfall into the river and presumably all the way out to Sabuleum. The jinkos had carved out a small chunk of the lava rock to divert water into a second, much smaller cascade. Muddy cats and their manservants waited in line to be hosed off by the impromptu shower. Amoyen gestured for you to stand beside her. You obeyed at once. Defiance was no longer an option; not after hearing what happened to Clinock. Poor bastard. Amoyen busied herself by reaching a hand down to gently grope your balls as she waited in line. You groaned and tried to pull away, but relented to her fondling after she glared at you. Like it or not, you were property now. Property of a creature that could accidentally castrate you if you weren’t careful. Best not to be hasty when the claws were that close to your junk…

When the couple in front of you finished, Amoyen graciously decided to wash you herself by holding you up under the water. You choked as the deluge of acrid water flowed into your face and over your body. Setting you down, Amoyen quickly rinsed herself off and carried you away.

“I can walk you know.” You said as she adjusted her grip on your legs.

She shushed you and moved you back to the main pool. Carrying you into the shallows, she dropped you into the pool again. At least this time it wasn’t deep. You sat up in the water as Amoyen plopped down beside you, misting you with the turquoise water. Propping herself up on an elbow, she looked into your eyes as she displayed her whole body to you. The erection you had been trying to contain and hide all day was back with a vengeance.

“You really love to manhandle, huh?” you asked sarcastically.

Amoyen chuffed. Reaching over, she pulled you on top of her. Your erection scraped her belly and she smiled mischievously. You blushed. When she looked at you like that, you knew she was getting exactly what she wanted. Amoyen extended her arms and your entire upper body was held at an arm’s length from her. She lay there for a moment, just watching you as she held you aloft. Her cinnamon hair fanned out in the shallow water around her in a light auburn halo. It slowly swayed back and forth as ripples in the pool lapped at the edge of the basin. But you were powerless to pay attention to anything but her shimmering eyes. Those perfect, citrine orbs held you captive. Perhaps it was an instinctual response; your body imploring you not to take your eyes off a predator. But there was more too it than that. You could see delectation in her eyes. The thrill of a hunter lording over her prize. You were hers, and she was happy to have you. Her gaze was possessive, absolute, and imperious, but it was not malevolent. Like a beloved rag doll, you knew you would be played with roughly. But never discarded or mistreated on purpose.

Amoyen lowered you back down. Clutching you tightly against her breast, she worked your penis between her thighs and began to rub herself along your length. You moaned as her thighs clenched around you tight enough to toe the line between pain and pleasure. One of her paws worked its way down your back. She gave your butt an affectionate squeeze before using one claw to stroke the back of your gonads. You jolted and almost slipped out of her arms but she held fast. Her humping quickened as her free hand cupped and played with your sack. You could only pant into her chest and pray that she didn’t clench her hand if she got excited. Amoyen was chuffing constantly as she watched you writhe and wriggle on top of her. Shifting her position, she maneuvered your face so that it was pressing against one of her nipples. You glanced up at her and instantly knew what was expected of you. Without her command, you wrapped your lips around the pink bud and began to suckle.

Amoyen snorted in amusement as you began to play with her petite breasts. Fuck Ghel, these tasted just fine. His taunt echoed through your head, and you found yourself redoubling your efforts to please your mistress to spite him. Her chest bounced you up and down as it sharply contracted and expanded in time with her chuffs.

The pressure in your groin mounted. Amoyen was seemingly aware of your imminent release as well. How the hell could she tell? Predator instincts, perhaps. Her paw stopped massaging your balls and slipped you inside of her as you neared your climax. She bit her lip and stretched as you pounded her slit in the warm water. The resistance was noticeable, but not nearly enough to keep you from hammering away with all your might when you were this horny. Amoyen watched passively as you battered her. Her feline face was aloof, smug, and aroused all at once. You could only imagine how pitiful you must look to her right now. Even your most savage lovemaking wasn’t enough to even move her whole body. With a few final shaky thrusts you released inside her. Amoyen warbled happily and arched her back as her insides coaxed the load out of you. Hardly anything was left. What little stamina your modest breakfast had provided you was now once again depleted. Oh Gods, when would they feed you again?

Amoyen cooed something in her language and hugged you with both arms. Her long claws traced your spine as she stroked up and down the length of your back. When she had squeezed the last of your seed into her snatch, Amoyen pulled you closer to her face for a kiss. You hesitated. Her eyes opened again and she glared at you. All you could do was sheepishly shrug and offer your lips to her of your own volition. Amoyen huffed and dove in. It started off gently enough, but the tigress quickly tired of pleasantries and decided she was in the mood for a snack. Her sharp teeth gnashed and caught your lip, rolling and nibbling the tender pink flesh. You moaned in distress as she continued to roll you around between her incisors and canines. She chuffed as you squirmed on top of her, and this time you could feel it resonate through your body. The vibrations shook all the way down to your racing heart.

Your eyes bulged as you felt something sharp prick the tip of your lip. Amoyen’s rough tongue made a second pass over your lips, threating to scrape away the skin itself. Her eyes opened again and you silently pleaded with her to be gentle. If she hadn’t been locking lips with you, you know she would be grinning. Her tongue shot between her lips into your mouth. At the same time, her massive paws came to rest on either side of your head. The sounds of the jungle were suddenly muted as the fur and meat of each bestial hand muffled everything but the noisy sloshing of her tongue in your mouth. Now you could hear her muted moans and hums of pleasure as she worked herself deeper into your throat. You grasped her wrists and clenched as every crevice of your mouth was inspected by the coarse appendage. It wrapped and wrestled your own as you tried to keep it from being ground to a bloody pulp on the papillae.
By the time she released you, you were nearly unconscious from the lack of oxygen. Gasping you flipped yourself over to recline on her without drowning yourself in the water. Amoyen licked her lips and wrapped her paws over your stomach. Chuffing, she held you contentedly for a few minutes.

“Amoyen!” called one of the jinkos. Looking across the pool, you could see her mother approaching with her man in tow.

Amoyen grunted. You poked her. She grunted louder and dug her claws into your chest.

“Amoyen!” snapped the jinko-mom again, this time with more ire.

Amoyen sighed and sat up. Her wet hair formed a soggy curtain of auburn in front of her face. You chuckled at the sight; it was the first time you had laughed in days. Water streamed off her head as she flipped her hair out of the way. Seeing you smile, Amoyen smiled back and put a paw on your head. Her mother shouted something and pointed at you two. Amoyen bellowed something back and swam you slowly back over to the other bank.

~~~~~~~

“Your name is Anon, yes?” said the old man.

You nodded. The jinkos had taken you into Amoyen’s mother’s hut, and were now questioning you. Was this an interrogation? Were they going to torture you for information on the Order’s plans? It didn’t seem like it; right now you were sitting comfortably in Amoyen’s lap.

“My name is Welgan. I was a settler in Sabuleum. Before they took me, that is. I guess cats love fish no matter how big they are.” He chuckled. You surmised what his profession had been by the netting and hooks that sat in the corner of the hut. You also noticed how tidy this domicile was; apparently the jinkos weren’t all savages. Amoyen was just a slob.

“What do they want from me?” you blurted.

“Relax, son. They don’t mean you no harm. Nothing too bad anyways…” he said eyeing the bitemarks on your shoulders. “You’re Amoyen’s property now. And men have to chip in around here. The others told me you were a learned type, is that true?”

“Yes…” you said. He was interested, but you couldn’t tell if being able to read would be your saving grace or your downfall in this situation.

Welgan said something to Amoyen’s mother. Both jinkos oohed and smiled at you. Amoyen chuffed.

“Kao ming!” she said.

“That’s good to hear. This village could use some brains. Far too many brutes in Sabuleum; whole tribe is getting dumber every time they take a new husband.” Said Welgan.

You balked at his choice of words. “Husband?!”

“Hubiand~” said Amoyen.

“Aye. What, did you think jinkos raped their chattel? You’re bound for life.” asked Welgan.

Your head connected with Amoyen’s chin as you leaned back trying to take all this in. This cat-thing was your wife?

“So, since you’re a man of books, you’ll be helpin’ us with the tough problems that the rest of us can’t solve.” Said Welgan. Amoyen’s mother prodded him and whispered in his ear. “And teach the littlun’s how to read and write.”

“What’s a ‘littlin’?” you asked.

“A child, you dolt.”

“Baiby.” cooed Amoyen.

“Other than that, you just do the cooking, cleaning, and help harvest the crops come the dry season. Not a bad life once you get used to it. Just don’t give them lip; jinkos are fiercely hierarchical. They don’t take kindly to flippancy. But if you ever get an especially… ‘powerful’ need, you just sass them and they’ll scratch it for you. Get what I’m saying?” said Welgan with a coy smile.
You grimaced.

“Bah. You’ll feel it eventually they all do. Come by the family fire tonight, I’ll teach you how to cook the best damn fish you ever did have!” he said.

He said something to the jinko-milf and the two cats conversed for a bit. You sat there in silence while Amoyen played with your hair. Welgan was no doubt more accustomed to being kept out of the conversation. He lounged against Amoyen’s mother and gently caressed her stomach and breasts. If Amoyen was your wife, was he technically your father-in-law? That made you more uncomfortable than you expected…

The jinkos concluded their talk. Nudging Welgan, Amoyen Sr. told him something in her language.

“They say you can have your things back. Should be in Amoyen’s hut.” Said Welgan.

Amoyen bid them farewell and led you back to her hut.

Home. This was home now. You looked plaintively at the mess. It didn’t have to start as a home. For now it could just be a hut. Once you tidied up a bit it could be a proper home.

Your bags were strewn on the ground. With a sigh, you picked up the map parchment you had been working on. The paper told the tale of the expedition well. Near Sabuleum, the map was refined and detailed. You had even had some time to add a few artistic doodles to the landscape. The farther your finger ventured from the dot that represented the town, the more erratic and sloppy your drawing and measurements became. Halfway to the volcano you had drawn out at the far side of the map, all lines vanished.
The artifact of your life as a free man saddened you. Though you knew the risks of coming to the Mist Continent, knowing that you would never return to a land of familiar faces and your own culture weighed upon you. Amoyen interrupted your melancholic musings by snatching the map out of your hand. Looking the paper over, she twisted and turned the sketch to no avail.

“What?” she asked in her heavy accent, showing the map to you.

“It’s a map. It shows you where to go. That’s the town.” You said, pointing to the dot. Amoyen shoved the paper in her face. “Town. People. Humans.” You said touching your chest.

Amoyen looked between you and the map. With a snort, she handed it back to you and started arranging some tools.

Half a map wasn’t much good, was it? Especially when you couldn’t use it to find your way back to civilization. Your civilization, at least. But you couldn’t bring yourself to throw the thing away. You looked around the hut. Seeing some exposed branches in the wall gave you an idea. The twigs protruded at about eyelevel. A perfect place for a picture to live up your home. Amoyen watched in curiosity as you gingerly pushed the twigs through the top corners of the map. It hung in place, gently swaying in the breeze.

“Meh.” Grunted Amoyen.

You looked at her. She had her arms folded across her chest. Though she didn’t make any attempt to walk over and remove the map, it was clear she wasn’t thrilled with it on her wall. You didn’t blame her. It was wildly out of place. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just the map itself. A vestige of a life you no longer lived. But that didn’t mean your desire for art was misguided.

Taking down the map, you pulled out your stationary and began to draw. Years of sketching, marking, mapping, and doodling had left you with an untrained but appreciable talent for art. Half an hour later, you blew the last of the ink dry and admired your handiwork.
A portrait of yourself and Amoyen. Crude, but it was enough to articulate that you were a couple now. You had done your best to draw yourselves in a traditional wedding portrait style. Amoyen standing partially behind you with her hand on your shoulder, wearing her two-piece outfit and you in your scribe clothes.

Amoyen looked over your shoulder at the drawing and you offered it to her. She chuffed loudly as soon as she saw it and carefully took it from you. Her tail flicked back and forth as she inspected every detail of the drawing. Smiling at you, she hung the picture back on the wall and hugged you. You patted her massive paws. Yes, this could be your home.

~~~~~~~

“Anon, stop drawing and come to bed.” Demanded Amoyen.

“Just a little more.” You said.

“Now.”

You sighed and hung the picture of you and Amoyen back on the wall. A few months had passed since your abduction, and you were now reaching a conversational level of proficiency with their language.

“Honestly. You have more important things to worry about.” Said Amoyen snuggling you closer.

“She’s the MOST important.” You said.

“You don’t even know what she’s going to look like.” Scoffed Amoyen.

You rubbed her growing belly. She was only a few months pregnant; it would be some time before she was due.

“Of course I know what she’ll look like. She’ll be beautiful, just like her mother.” You said.

Amoyen giggled and kissed you. Wrapping a paw over your body you both looked at the half-finished child you were adding to the family portrait, wondering how it would look when you could finally finish it.