First entry.
I plan to write this journal whenever I get the chance. A way for me to look back on things, or a source of comfort or inspiration. It might be of help should the worst come to pass.
It has been a long time coming. All of my training, my studies and my consecration has led to this. As long as my body endures, I shall be a shield to my allies, and the smiting light and furious wind to my enemies. I have to make the most of this chance to conquer the Dungeon, to find its master, and be granted the wish it offers to whoever reaches it. Or so have legend and gossip alike repeated for as long as I can remember.
This has attracted many to this place, myself included. Reasons vary. Some looking for fame, others looking for fortune, a few with more noble goals in mind. I am proud to say I fall among the latest. None that enter have returned, or at least no such thing is known. But, with this wish I can finally make this place disappear, putting an end to such senseless loss of life. A noble goal for a noble task.
Finding others to join me has been easy. It can sound surprising,and each will have their own reasons for it, but they all seemed eager to join me. Three magic users, which leaves me front and centre. They are a powerful force, and one of them is a very capable healer. Or so she says. I guess we’ll see once we come across trouble. Her kind smile, ever present on her face, feels reassuring, but I can’t help but feeling there’s something she is hiding. She seems too kind for her own good. And the other magician she travels with, she boasts about great and terrible power, but the smirk on her face is… off putting. Like the witch-doctor (yes, that is fitting), I feel like there is something she is not telling.
Leaving me out of the group, the last one is a kitsune. A fox spirit from distant realms. I could hardly believe it when she revealed her ears and tail. But, to be fair, my own wings are much harder to conceal. She says she is quite apt with ice magic, and given her white hair, and the fur of her ears and tail, I’m inclined to believe her. I’m sure she will be helpful, but her mischievous attitude keeps me on edge.
The combination of all of it, probably. But there is no turning back now. It is a daunting task, but one I’m confident in achieving. And whether I like it or not, I’ll have all my doubts and suspicions revealed eventually.
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Second entry.
We are alive. Maker above, we are alive.
Almighty maker above, I cannot put into words how thankful I am at this moment. I have no way of knowing how long it has been since we started our way, but we cannot go back. Any time we try to find the way we came, we are only met with walls of stone. Walls that were not there before. No wonder none has ever come back, and I dread we might have glimpsed at the remains of previous souls that braved the dungeon. We might have joined them, had we not found this room. It clearly is not like the caves and caverns we have been wandering around. No monster dares to enter its smooth stonework, and the water of the fountain is clear and drinkable.
It is clearly your holy doing that we have managed to find someplace safe at all.
I don’t think we could perform worse even if we tried. The magician is a powerful fighter, but a terrifying one. Her dark magic spells are able to cause great damage, but each one she casts turns her to stone, little by little. I do not dare to imagine what her most powerful spells do. The idea is already horrible enough, putting herself constantly on the edge, but her face when her body hardens… that’s the most terrifying thing. She is delighted at the idea, revelling in it. The more she transforms, she grows more and more aroused. The look on her face, and the moans she makes are… I would say obscene, but I don’t think that makes it justice.
And not like she is the only one! Reading back, I was right. I knew the witch-doctor was just too good. She is incredibly skilled, yes, able to heal us from any wounds. It doesn’t matter if it is a bleeding bite or cut, ailments of any kind or even petrification. I cannot fathom how far she can go. I can hardly think of anything wrong of her. She is sweet, polite and kind-hearted… but she is just as mad as her fellow magician. When petrification affects her, she starts to pleasure herself. All while remaining fully capable of casting her spells. I know what I saw, but still cannot fully believe it. Even as I write it down.
The kitsune is no different. She makes for a formidable fighter, able to freeze monsters or blast them with ice shards. If only her magic didn’t turn her into ice… or the rest of us, for that matter. I know she means well, that she can restore our mana, but it is too risky. Leaving the four of us frozen in battle as ice statues… we are lucky we are solid enough when transformed to barely receive damage. If any. And yet, her expression of ecstasy when transformed has not gone unnoticed. Cross eyed, trying to put her pleasure into moans when not smirking.
We have lost many supplies, most of them. Water is plentiful in these safe rooms, so that will not be a problem. Kitsune has suggested taking what meat we can gather from the monsters we have slain. The witch doctor has told us that it is safe to consume… in theory. The thought disgusts me, but our situation will only get more dire as we carry on. I can feel my resolve faltering. And yet they seem relaxed. Cheerful even! It makes me… it makes me furious, as much as I try to deny it. I aim for a noble goal, one to end this place that has brought so much pain and loss. And I find myself with a thrill-seeker, a fetishist and the most docile healer I could ever think of! Why?!
Is this a test, Maker above? A way to prove my resolve and resilience?
Physical wounds, no matter their nature, are the least of our concerns. It is the ailments the monsters inflict that worry me. From the stone curse to the mind control. They last in particular makes one more of a burden than anything else, a mindless and an indolent being, vulnerable and oblivious to the threat next to us. I need to figure out something, or else I won’t make it.
The only way left is ahead, deeper into the dungeon.
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Third entry.
We are still alive.
We advance slowly, deeper and deeper into the caverns, and the monsters we fight are brutal and merciless. All monsters are powerful and should not be taken lightly, even the smallest ones, needing plenty of blows or several powerful spells to go down. I am not surprised, given where we are, but if only it was the bites and scratches, or even the mind control… We have come across some slimes. Gelatinous and hard to deal with due to their resistant nature, but there is a different kind. Pink, and with one large eye, able to cloud our minds and make us more of a burden than anything else. A gasping and moaning mess, far more focused on pleasure and indulging in it than the immediate threat. It brings me great shame to admit, but I have been in that situation once or twice…
However, it is not all gloom. Through trial and error, we have been slowly hashing a feasible strategy. The kitsune can deal a lot of damage, and more importantly, hinder our enemies, but at the cost of being exposed and turned to ice. She doesn’t seem to mind, if I am to judge the expression on her face each time she freezes… This gives us an edge, allowing me and the dark magician to conjure our most powerful spells. With a flap of my wings I take flight and hurl divine javelins or conjure gusts of wind that weaken our enemies. I am prepared to endure any and all punishment, and I do, but I feel as if I am filling someone else’s place. As for her, she channels her knowledge as dark miasma and lightning. Each spell petrifies her a little more, a consequence of such magic, but the witch doctor is able to heal physical wounds and the stone curse with ease. We do try to hold the mana potions on reserve for her, since any other choices would leave us exposed.
It has been a slow and difficult march, but we keep going forward. Although, I would be lying if moments of rest like this weren’t welcome. A respite that allows me to ponder and to reflect. I think of my fellow Valkyries, wondering where their paths might have taken them, what they might come across and what grand feats they might achieve.
Are they in similar situations to mine? Of course not. Wherever they are, they probably do not have to subsist on monster food. And likely are in much, much more dignified company.
My wings envelop and shield me from their antics, but I still hear them as I write these words. The cracking as their magic slowly transforms them into stone. Their gasps and purrs at their touch, the moans that echo in the room and beyond… The only discharge I have is when silence sets in, the three transformed into ice statues. And meanwhile, their voices echo in my mind. My heart beats like a drum in my chest. It is a dangerous game they are playing. What if they miscalculate? If they petrify permanently? I have no way to absorb all of their horrid magic if that happens…
The silence breaks shortly, the moment they unfreeze. Their voices ooze lust and pleasure. And I can hear them calling me, inviting me to join. I pretend not to hear. To be in a trance or fast asleep, but I don’t think they believe it.
I do wonder, when turned to ice, can the tongue get stuck to the body?
Maker above. What have I just-
My wings twitch. I have their attention on me again. They call for me, the intent clear in their voice. Teasing and playful. Haughty and challenging. Warm and welcoming. They purr and they moan. They giggle at my wings twitching.
They insist, time and again. And meanwhile they keep pleasuring each other, their moans muffled when they get their mouths busy. I can only imagine their lips locked around a hardening breast, or busy tasting the smooth and firm surface of the stone bodies. As much as I hate to admit, when part of us hardens, it looks… alluring. Impossibly smooth and firm. Unnatural even. I am sure some master artisan could, with a great deal of time and effort, achieve such results. But knowing that these women, with their magic, can do that for leisure and for pleasure…
I have entertained the idea, I admit it. But the thought of being lost to carelessness, to getting too carried away… I would like nothing else than to be able to conquer this dungeon on my own. I know pride begets fall, but these thoughts often cross my mind. I need them, for their abilities and power. Can I strike a balance? Indulge them every now and then, and try to rein them in?
Surely, there can be no harm in trying. Right?
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Fourth entry.
The strategy works. I have been having trouble accepting it, but it works.
The kitsune’s ice magic makes monsters sluggish and vulnerable, and should any be particularly dangerous, she is able to freeze them on the spot. She spends a lot of time as an ice statue, but she doesn't mind. This allows me and the dark magician to cast our own spells. A hailstorm of celestial spears, accompanied by the cracking dark lightning.
Should our mana run low, or the punishment be too much, the witch-doctor will mend and restore us with little trouble. I do have noticed that she is much more reserved when having to cure one of us from mind control or raging lust though… But it is something I can overlook. She provides much and excellent support in battle.
And when her mana runs low, having the kitsune turn the four of us into ice statues is not so bad. We are resilient and solid, barely being able to be chipped. But we still remain vulnerable, so we use it as a last resort.
It could be that the monsters of this place don’t handle the ice magic well, having been accustomed to endure the lava and molten rock that illuminates these caverns. Canine fiends with multiple heads and cockatrices, snakes and small critters. It does not matter, in the end, we have cut all of them down. As a curiosity, we have noticed that slimes and lust slimes are largely absent. The heat, most likely.
Monster food is becoming more palatable too, being able to (if handled with care) cook it among the embers and heat. We have not been able to find the good timing, and it has been charred more than once, but this way it is different from how we previously consumed it. Given the circumstances, it is not too bad.
Looking back on the previous entry, I have to admit I might have been oversuspicious. Even when fully immersed in the pleasure, they manage to retain control. They might moan and gasp as their bodies harden into flawless and smooth stone, but they remain very much aware of happenings. I can attest to it. Eventually, their insistence bested my patience, or maybe it was my curiosity that opened a crack. Regardless of why or how, it changes nothing. I have joined them. Their reactions to it were as expected. Playful teasing, happy eagerness and an arrogant satisfaction, as if she had known all along I would eventually fold.
Nothing could have prepared me for it. Watching from a distance, even small peeks or stray gazes in battle is one thing, but being in the very midst of it is- I cannot think of words that make it justice. As my body hardened, turning into smooth gray stone, I could feel everything; from the ground beneath my feet almost having a certain familiarity to it, to their soft and supple skin on my hardening body. The touch, warm as the stone cools, is like a gentle blanket, even if it lasts little. And where the body petrifies, I have felt- maker, what haven’t I felt? Their touch and warmth, the dust in the room, the currents of air that escape into the danger outside, the humidity of the fountains… And the first time the kitsune set a lone water drop on my hardened body. I can’t properly explain.
I felt it slide down my back. Slowly, almost teasingly. It rolled gently, down my thin waist and on to my rear. And all the while I gasped, trying to remain composed. Never have I cared less about it. They held my arms as it moved downwards, circling around the rear and into the petrified leg. It was all a blur, a quick descent down my right leg, before hitting the floor beneath my stone sole. And I was left panting and sweating, almost pleading for more.
And the ice transformation was no different. In a blink, the kitsune froze me, turning me into an icy statue where I stood. My expression of surprise, sculpted in thick ice. I still hear the giggles, but when the witch doctor gently embraced me from behind the warmth that filled me was… peaceful. Calling it a loving embrace does not make it justice. It has been something deeper. Her warmth permeated through me, comforting and ensuring that all of my worries and dreads left my mind for a moment. I know she cares, they- we all do, each in her way. I have taken notice she and the dark magician are close, and the kitsune has too. Best not to anger her.
Mortified as the thought of this self makes me, I cannot go back to how I was before. And, in a way, it has been a liberation. It is something we all share, and that has deepened the bond that has been forging since the moment we set foot here. A far cry from what we started as then, even if I have no means to tell how long it has been.
But their presence comforts me. And we carry on, deeper into the dungeon, but closer to its heart.
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Fifth entry
I do not know how long it has been, but time has passed since the previous entry.
We are close. The caverns before us no longer look natural or wild, but rather similar to these safe rooms. Carefully cut stonework that, even when weathered by time, monsters and elements, looks man-made. I have no answers for it. None of the others do.
Our strategy is flawless, and our teamwork absolute. The kitsune freezes herself to give us an edge or an easy frozen target, even if she has to spend more time as an ice statue than anything else. Lucky her. The dark magician and I unleash our spells right after, bringing pain and ruin to any that cross our path. And should any sustain any wounds or ailments, the witch doctor is always ready to heal us. The petrifying curse that the dark magician’s spells, or the vile strikes of the monsters inflict is trivial.
It is hectic, and draining on our mana, but that gives the kitsune an excuse to turn all of us into ice statues. Sturdy and beautiful, it has become somewhat of a break in combat, and sometimes we even try to strike some poses. Heroic, teasing or erotic, no matter as the result will be delightful to look at.
Although it is something minor, there has been a setback. Due to excessive use of the ice magic, our armour and clothes had grown brittle, and eventually shattered under attack. It will take me a little longer to fully accustom myself to waltzing around naked. It is not the case for my peers, who have been nothing but encouraging. Strangely enough, the monster attacks seem to grow only weaker, ailments and the stone curse being more hindering than physical blows.
All the better for us, since it makes each fight, each battle a routine. To boot, we try to ensure we have more than enough monster meat to consume. And so far we have managed to keep a good amount with us, but we should not take things for granted. The monsters that patrol this area seem to be mostly slimes and constructs. Having left the lava caverns behind slimes abound; regular, elemental and lusty ones. But it is the latter kind of monsters that are most intriguing. Ghostly figures clad in armour and wielding swords and shields, and floating petite female stone idols. What would need monsters like these? Fiends that resemble a fallen army?
I have to talk to them about making sure we remain careful and rationing the monster meat. We cannot be sure the circumstances will remain as favourable constantly.
Since the last entry we have grown closer. The kitsune has taken a particular interest in me. For all her trickster persona, she is wise and calculating, making sure she always has the upper hand in and out of battle. She is also far more tempered than the dark magician and the witch doctor, who often engage in pleasure and their petrifying tricks. Not that it takes much to sweep the rest of us along. Regardless, I like sharing insights and thoughts with her. It is interesting to hear how she perceives the world, and what she thinks of it.
They call for me to join them, so I will keep this short. We are in good spirits, and tonight we share a feast and pleasure. A celebration of the road walked, and the bonds forged.
No matter what we shall come across, we will triumph!
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The journal in your hand is rigid and with a slight yellowish hue, the edges of the pages slightly crumpled. Otherwise, it is very well conserved. Skimming over that last line again, you lower it and look at the display before you. Four stone statues standing on the otherwise empty cave. Their bodies, smooth and flawlessly sculpted, remain entangled with each other.
With soft and quiet steps, you walk around them, not paying them too much attention and far more focused on the surroundings. The cave is far, far different from the ones you have left behind. More man-made than natural. A road of cobblestone leads the way, clearly visible even if time has taken its toll on it, and to the sides of it are small lamp like roadmarks, lava flowing within and keeping the place surprisingly well lit. But it is the large door at the end that draws the attention. A set of wide and ample stairs lead up to two massive blades of marble and gold, polished to perfection and pristine. They loom over the entire room, feeling less like a goal to reach, and more like the shut lips of a giant maw.
Step after step, you climb the stairs and stand before the door. It does not budge, not when you touch it with your hand, not when you try to shove it open. It is not surprising, but you had the faint hope, the wishful thinking, that maybe it could work. You have come across some caves that were empty before after all. A creeping dread settles in your gut as you turn around. The cave- the chamber is empty, not a monster or fiend in sight. No basilisks or canine monsters, no ghostly silhouettes in armour or floating stone idols. There is nothing besides the shut door, yourself… and the four statues. You swallow, mouth and throat parched as you undo the steps taken.
Coming closer, your sight examines the four statues. Two couples locked in an intimate moment. Or one couple and two maniacs going at it, rather. The kitsune and the valkyrie are immediately recognizable; the wings of one flaring wide while the vulpine ears of the other come out of her long hair and her tail curls around her leg. They are locked in a surprisingly tender kiss, one hand holding the other’s cheek while the valkyrie has the other arm around her lover. The hand of the kitsune seems frozen in an odd pose. Index and little finger stretched, heart and middle going down and rubbing against the thumb. Was she trying to cast a spell?
The other two… you wouldn’t have been able to tell who was who if not for the journal. Both with similar bodies, and both with long hair, locks framing their faces and going down to their busts. But their faces allow you to tell them apart… although not that much. One has her lips pursed, her body twisted in delight as she buries one hand on her crotch and the other signals victory with two fingers. The other is pleasuring herself wildly, one hand in her nether lips, the other groping one of her breasts as she moans without sound. Her face, oozing pleasure, has the mouth wide open, tongue out like mad.
And as you come closer, it closes, curling into a twisted smile.
Your heartbeat stops for a moment, a faint thought going back to the journals. She was wrong about it being safe. But no time to think about that, as you jump back and draw steel. Light armour won’t offer much protection, but allows you to wield your sword, long and slightly curved, quickly and skillfully. Regardless, one against four.
A cracking fills the chamber as the statues come to life, each with an eerie smile on her face. Blank eyes remain fixed on you. And you can feel their gazes, watching, sizing you up and trying to guess your strike as they come closer. Moving one leg to the side, you take your sword to the same side, ready to strike. The question remains, which first? Their stiffness fades as they become worryingly nimble, and you know how terrible their abilities were before. Best not to find it now.
Inhale.
Exhale.
And strike!
You lunge forth as the sword makes an ample arch, leaving a faint hum behind. The stone magicians ready their spells, and the petrified valkyrie races your speed. The kitsune is right before you, her hand still on that gesture, and her face smiling. The blade should cut her neck clea-
CLANG!
You stumble backward, as the metallic ringing echoes through the chamber. It fills your ears, the vibration of the clash crawling up your arms. Two massive stone wings envelop the kitsune, opening shortly to reveal your target and her protector. Even with her wings slightly cracked, the valkyrie has the same immutable smile, while the kitsune sticks her tongue out. Her other hand opens, your heart dropping as a frozen projectile hurls towards you. You twist your body, trying to use the momentum to dodge.
A clear sound fills the chamber and your ears, a freezing cold gripping your very soul. No muscle answers, no matter how hard you try to muster your strength. With chilly dread, you watch as the two spell casters release their magics.
You cannot move.
You cannot dodge.
You can only watch.
A dark miasma envelops you, while a pink aura dances around your body. Purple and pink blend and dance around you, darkening your sight and clinging to your body. It is… pretty. Calming. Both hues blend, growing thicker and thicker, turning into something physical. They stick to your body, making the cold fade. You can feel it, clinging to your form. To your curves, your breasts and limbs. It slides up and down slowly, almost as if making sure it is chasing the cold away. You shiver at the touch of the miasma, at the touch of the chamber air on your skin, and it makes your skin tingle.
The miasma concentrates, becoming smaller, but clinging to your body with passion. To your breasts. To your neck. To your crotch, and to your rear. Iit starts to move, to massage; And as it does, you feel a fire ignite. Each time it contracts and expands is like a loving caress on your skin. The tender pecking of a lover on your neck. A gentle pinching on your hardening nipples. A teasing touch on your crotch and rear. Each time, the fire grows stronger, and your limbs weaker.
The stone kitsune and the stone valkyrie pay no attention to you, having gone back to each other. Kissing and caressing, their arms moving smoothly and knowingly over each other’s body. They know exactly where to touch, and how to do so. They let out no noise, other than the clacking of their bodies when they collide, but their faces say it all. Pleasure and delight. Blissful smiles that match their advances. Every part of them reeks beauty and allure, an enthralling sight you cannot help but gasp at. Not in horror or despair, but in envy. One hand moves to your breasts, big and round, while the other weakly tries to reach your crotch. The two give you a smile, before massive stone wings envelop them, keeping them out of your sight, but not of your mind.
Having chased the cold away, the miasma fades away, letting your head start to clear. Your legs give away, slumping to the ground. It feels rough and cold against your bare skin. You moan weakly, trying to cover your bust and crotch. And two figures approach you. The dark magician and the witch doctor. Or former ones. One gropes and pleasures herself, almost mockingly, while the other looks down at you with a heavenly smile on her face. You glare back in defiance. Her expression does not change in the slightest, but her hand opens. A blend of pink and purple swirls in her palm, spinning towards the centre like a whirlpool.Your mind races, matching the beating of your heart. It all piles up. Frustration. Shame. Arousal.
None of it matters. In a moment all those thoughts melt away, replaced yet again by the pleasurable warmth. You moan, as it grows stronger than ever before. It surges through your body, filling you with a blissful energy. With renewed vigour, you stand up tall as you are, crossing one leg behind the other. One hand moves on your breast, massaging and grasping, but managing to keep both nipples covered with the arm. The other finally slides into your crotch. Slowly, discreetly.
Your body feels heavy and sluggish, your movements slowing to a crawl. Your mind feels dazed, thoughts hard to come by. But the pleasure remains. And it only grows stronger. More and more. You grasp and push, as hard and deep as you can, managing to exhale in pleasure. The pose does not make the pleasure justice. It is a ravenous hunger that demands more and more. The pleasure that emanates from your best effort is not enough. Your fingers, pushed deep within your womanhood. Your hand, clawing away at your breast. The pleasure spreads, radiating from there and rampaging through your form. It builds up on your chest and blooms on your head. Your mind is dazed, but you want more. It is not enough. And you try.
Try to arouse yourself, thinking what you have told none before. Try to imagine someone else giving you pleasure, able to help you over the edge. Try to focus on the new sensations of your body. The ground beneath your feet. The air against your stone body. The warm glow of the lamps, filled with molten rock.
But it is not enough.
The spell begins to fade, clearing your mind and moaning at the situation.
They have left you to the side, having gone back to themselves. To each other. And you can’t help but watch, aware and alone. The air of the chamber sends pleasant chills down your form. The ground beneath keeps you steady from toppling. The lamps keep you a bit warm. And your hands, your own hands, keep you pleasured. But it is not enough.
Your belongings lay scattered on the floor. Among them is the journal you found on your way here. It belongs to the dungeon now, as much as you do. But unlike others you remain, and have plenty of time to think about it. About their journey. About how wrong she was about the monster meat. About the dungeon. About yourself. Who are were you? What have did you come looking for?
You chuckle at the thought. Rather obvious answer, isn’t it? You are a stone statue. A beautiful statue. A part of this place now. Just like them. And, maybe, some time, you might have someone at your side too.