Jakon was finally back in his familiar anvil of a kitchen. The walls were still curved just right and the diamonds sheened bright and beautifully as anywhere in Dirlop Mountain should. As beautiful as Sky was now glowing, outside and in, even as she stayed in her lovely minidress, as much as she clearly wanted to slip out of it again. Just like Ivy now too. Both girls eager to go smutty lover for him now. The promised threesome coming sooner than hoped. The black iron rose of a table even only had three chairs. But they were all black...

Distance death cries rang out from everywhere. Worse than the last battle field it was. High pitched elven screams, and they all even wretched Jakon and his iron gut uneasy. Cutting down his appetite for his mom’s coming meal of corned beef sandwiches down, some, but only some. A few bellowed like dying trolls. Short but powerful trolls. The kind no lone dwarf cared to face alone. Tales of valor and legend came from facing them down. Chasing them from the caves of squalor they lodged themselves in. Ambushing travelers and dwarves alike. All those cries came from behind the...

Once the group hug was over once again, Jakon took a tally of their location, since the best offensive required a grasp of their surroundings. And their surroundings … were, what the … green walls?! Like fresh green vines. Lined together. Straight as a hammer handle, thick as his own head, and woven together with smaller leafy tendrils. All forming a wall that loomed so high it ran into pitch utter darkness. The rosy fragrance, it was so strong, from everywhere, it was like a thick miasma. Worse than a heavily perfumed elf girl. (Not that he minded Sky’s lovely...

Jakon could only make out the closest of the vines grinding heavy against stone wall, but the thick sound and smell, this place would be overrun soon. And no sign of the dwarves that should normally be here either. Today it should of been busy. The battle against Frostine couldn’t of taken him that long. Long enough for everyone to clear, and fight the invading orcs, but the presence of the vines confirmed the orcs had reached this deep. That rosy fragrance too. So the dwarves would of retreated deeper into the mountain. Barricaded those less able to fight in...

Queen Briar Rosendoom chuckled as she strutted up the thick solid rose vine as quietly as a fox prowling up to a tasty overconfident rooster. The familiar of smell of blood rose, of both blood and rose together, and more crimson the rose, the more death it absorbed, the more blood it would provide her kind, the blood elves, also known as vampires to lesser beings. The foolish dragon curled on top of this mountain thought it was still in charge. Ha! But no need to remove that delusion. Yet. Its blood would soon be ripe enough to harvest. Just...