Left

You are in a middle ground of the previous areas. No open canopy, but the trees are rather sparse, with sprinklings of light shining through in spots big enough to stand in. As you walk through the forest you are again reminded in small ways that you aren't in New York or even earth. Some trees stand out with an unnatural glint and shine that pulls them from the background. Earthy green leaves bright enough the seem misplaced on a tree that you would assume traces its roots to a mundane evergreen, but the colour of the leaves look better placed on a young cabbage. On the other end of the spectrum are leaves so cool in colour that their greens are almost blues and they exude dew even against the sun's high noon heat. You are reminded by the tempting dew and tender looking leaves that you know nothing about this place and touching or tasting the wrong thing will end you faster than the neighbourhood brigand with a sword and a dream for drinking on your dollar. As you walk you occasionally catch sight of birds, their shadows flying between breaks in the floor where the forest canopy opens to the sun. The further you walk the bigger the birds get. And then there are no birds at all. But there is some squawking going on.

You grit your teeth as you feel something is off. You grew up during the stop and frisk, you were only a boy, but that didn't stop the questions, the harassment. You KNOW when you're being watched. You breathe deep to steel yourself, whatever is coming, it won't help if you're shaking like a stripper at her estranged father's house. However as you try to calm yourself you realise that Baroqua has been speaking to you.

"What, what are you whispering," Duin asks the voice by his side.

Baroqua, "I'm telling you those are not fucking birds."

"Wha?"

"Duck!"

You don't catch a glimpse, but your body moves well to warning. Your side is merely clipped as you roll to the left.

Leaned up against a tree you go to reach for your sword, but further instructions await you instead.

"Keep moving, she's not alone!" Baroqua shouts.

She? You think to yourself as you bring knees to chest and run deeper into the forest. You don't know who or how many, but you aren't going to stop an ask. After feeling the environment has sufficiently changed enough you pause and turn, blade in hand.

"What the fuck was or is it?"

"Harpies, thought they weren't interested when they didn't pluck you from the opening. Guess I was wrong." Baroqua answers.

"Harpies? You mean the buzzards were bird bitches and you didn't tell me all this time?"

Baroqua kisses her teeth, "If I had to guess they didn't go for you in the opening because if you had any experience they'd be easy to cut. It was you looking around the place like a lost lamb that made them change their mind."

"Pardon me for enjoying nature," you say with a nervous smile, "How do we do this?"

"Look who has some pretend nerve, alright kid we got closer to the denser forest so they won't have eyes on you from above." Baroqua starts her lesson, "It'll be riskier to come for you so they'll go for the one shot. A quick fly in, falcon punch and then cut and strip you while you're dazed."

"Okay, what do I do to stop that," you ask, tightening your grip.

"Well for one, save **** me till after we get you out of here. For two, harpies are fragile. Position yourself right and focus on your timing. If you can get them to hit a tree or land a solid hit, they'll be down for the count."

"Glass cannon fight, this is some mid game shit."

You don't have time for another quip as you hear the sound of wind whistling. You see a flutter of tan come towards you, you can't swing fast enough so you dive to the side. It's not even a second later that you feel a rush of wind beside you. Wings compacted in and a featherless foot extended in the direction you just stood. While you cant do much apart from wait to land and change your footing after, mid air this harpy is able to turn her head and look at you as she passes by.

No sooner do you touch the ground and turn, she's gone.

"Fuck," the only thing you can mutter. You do not have the speed for this. So trees it is. You use the limited moment you have to leg it further into the forest. The more trees you can get between you and your feathered enemies the better.

Then you hear the whistling again. You stop on the spot and as you think where to dive to you see a darker coat of feather cross your vision in front of you. Fuck. You can't assume they'll attack you from behind and they have a vested interest in keeping you from going deeper. You realize the **** point between the tighter canopy and where you are now might be when they're most **** and by extension most dangerous. You place your sword to your back, hold it high as you slowly move in circles, going from tree to tree.

"I thought you were heading for cover," Baroqua asks.

"I'm not fast enough, this is plan B," you respond.

"Ballroom dancing," comes her sarcastic response, "Listen, I'm no rapier, but you could at least take me somewhere with music."

You don't retort as you wait for it. And then a pained screech behind you signals for you to duck.

As you do the lighter coloured harpy comes crashing into the tree in front of you.

You hold your sword in front of you as you momentarily inspect your would be assailant. The sandy feathers cover her arms, and shoulders, meeting between the shoulder blades, her face and chest and human, clear, tanned skin, covered by a taut stretch of silken cloth. The same cloth is tied to a narrow waist that leads down to tanned thighs and bird like feet. The facial features are soft, if pained in the moment and the hair is short, but fine, having the same colour as the feathers.

You realize you've been given far too much time to take this all in so you look to your right, the only direction that doesn't have a tree in it's immediate path. It's small, but you can see her coming, this time before the whistle. You place stock in her being more angry than sensible and extend your sword, point facing the harpy, then as soon as you hear the whistle you drop your sword.

"Wha-"

You hope Baroqua isn't the only one you've confused as you dive towards the harpy.

The sound of metal clanging against dirt of the forest floor is followed by the sound of bodies. You expected to be pushed back from ****, suffer a few broken ribs, but you find that you actually pushed your quarry back and that she fell to the ground first, held in your embrace. Even now as the adrenaline fades and your nerves relax it takes you several seconds until the sounds of the harpy in your grip struggling and Baroqua's words reach your ears.

"Good job, but could you please not be one of those 'throw my weapon for every moment' type of adventurer," Baroqua grumbles.

You look at the harpy in your hands, her earthen feathers are a cooler and darker brown, holding her in a bear hug, her angry brown eyes stare at you with indignation, her chest against your you can already feel that she's more endowed than her friend and she covers her modesty with similar silk cloths. Her voice is screeching, "I will claw your eyes out and feed them to the crows you- h-hey!"

You interrupt her stream of **** with a gentle squeeze as you run things over in your head. You tried your hand of blinding one of the harpies with your sword. Thanks to sword polishing sessions that Baroqua made you agree to, that worked out well enough that the harpy that hit the tree is still out for the count. At least you hope she is. Her friend came swooping in to save her and you used the obvious path she took to tackle her. Still, you were expecting to land on your back, but even with her velocity, you managed to push her back at the point of impact. Even now as you stand up, keeping a hold on the harpy it feels like your holding nothing at all.

"Baroqua, how much does a harpy weigh?"

The dark feathered harpy puffs up, "Oy, fucking rude!"

Baraoqua chuckles, "Soaking wet? Maybe seventy pounds. Hollow bones, air bladders and a touch of magic keep them airborne."

You playfully squeeze the harpy now and notice the small panic in her eyes every time you do, "I take it very fragile too, right?"

"Right."

You then look to the passed out harpy by the tree.... "Is she?"

"Probably not, they're not that fragile. I remember one time the party I was with came across a harpy who had been caught by a minotaur and he was-"

"Let me go to her, you bastard!"

You look at the irate harpy, "Rude, you attacked first."

She again puffs up her feathers, "The forest showed us prey, who are we to say no?"

Just as she says that some vines fall from a nearby tree.

You raise an eyebrow and then smile, "Don't think the forest is on your side as much as you think."

A few minutes later and you have a tied up and angry harpy.

"So what exactly was your plan, miss..."

"I don't have to tell you a damn thing!"

You smirk and take a seat on the forest floor, "True, but does that help your friend?"

You point over to the still **** harpy.

Seeing her friend you see the anger give way to worry quicker than you expected.

"Okay, okay. My name is Kestre and her name is Veri, now please let me see her, she's hurt."

You lift her in your arms and walk over to the injured Veri, "Duin. Glad we can be civil."

Kestre pouts, but you place her down next to her friend.

As her face shows concern for her friend she scowls at you, "Well untie me, how am I suppose to help her like this?"

You crouch in front of Veri, "Tell me what I should be looking for."

Kestre looks at you incredulously, "Why would I trust you?"

Why should she? You think about that yourself.

"Chaos."

Kestre blinks in confusion, "What?"

"Let's just say I do what feels right," you answer, "I'll start things off myself. I've helped my fair share of injured pigeons."

Kestre's eye twitches, "We are NOT pigeons!"

You run your hands over Veri, no bruising or discoloration that is apparent on her featherless sections. Her breathing is somewhat laboured as she's **** and there is sweat on her forehead. You feel both legs and don't feel anything out of place although you admit the legs remind you more of secretary bird than pigeon and Animal Planet taught you that you do not want to get a direct kick from one of those. It's only when you touch along the left wing that she jerks and her breathing intensifies.

You look towards Kestre, "How bad is a broken wing for a harpy?"

Kestre looks a little pale, "I have to treat it fast, it can be fixed if it's fresh. If she ends up stuck on the ground for weeks she'll be an easy target!"

You look between the **** Veri and the panicked Kestre, "Okay. Tell me what to do."

Kestre looks at you, seething quietly, "I-I can do it myself just-"

"Not untying you yet. So let's just skip to the end. Whatever you need to do is time sensitive. How much of that time are you willing to waste arguing?"

Kestre silent seething turns to rage behind her eyes, but her face starts to go pink, "Why d-don't you just-"

"Any minotaur nearby?"

The next few moments of awkward silence are broken when a much more amenable Kestre looks off to the side and almost whispers, "U-under my cloth, there is some medicine for these things."

You reach under, feeling between the soft flesh of her chest and a met with a flummoxed chirp, "Other one! Other cloth!"

"Damn, my bad, shawty."

You go lower and finding the warmth of netherlips and a touch of feminine nectar you use two fingers to gently navigate her folds.

The chirp gets more high pitched as Kestre squeaks out.

Your fingers rub and massage her entrance as you take your time, trying not to make this needed intrusion unpleasant.

Kestre stifles her noises as she tries to speak, "N-not, ahh! No, not, ah iihh! N-not there! Pocket! Pocket!"

You stop your fingers, "Okay, my fault. Should have asked your safe word. So, yours is pocket, mine is pineapple."

As Kestre tries to bring herself under control to speak clearly she looks at you half in annoyance and half in something else, "No, you idiot. There's a pocket on the inside of the skirt, the medicine is there."

...

You flip the fabric over and sure enough find a small flap. You reach in and pull out some small green balls.

"Put it in her mouth, make sure she swallows." Kestre tells you.

"I always do."

You place the green ball in your mouth and take hold of Veri's chin.

Kestre's eyes widen as you lock lips with her injured friend. Using your own tongue you push it deep. You weakly feel her tongue brush yours and she swallows the pill.

You pull back as she gasps and groans, but your job isn't done yet.

"Massage her wing, massage her wing!" Kestre shouts from the side lines.

You do exactly that and under your touch you can feel the sweeling going down slightly as things pop into place like Danish plastic blocks, the bane of feet everywhere.

When everything feels right and her sweating dissipates you lean her up in a more relaxed position under the tree and head back over to the noisy parrot.

"Your friend should be fine now, right?" you inquire as you pick Baroqua off the ground and clean her off.

Kestre looks at you, she doesn't have the same air of wanting to rip your throat out and views you with annoyance, "Sure. Fine. I mean we lost to some noob adventurer and didn't get to rob him of his shinies, but a bruised ego is the least."

You give a nod, if she can complain then you're sure she isn't injured.

You turn your back to her as you walk away, "Well, hopefully by the time she wakes up and you get loose I'll be long gone."

"Wait!"

You turn around with a raised eyebrow to the harpy's chirp, "Do you need a bill? I don't even know if medical insurance is a thing here."

Kestre seems taken aback, "What? Insur-no you idiot! The rules! You can't just leave like that?"

You tilt your head as you look at the bound harpy, "Por que?"

Kestre stares you down for far longer than you'd expect she'd want to lock eyes with you, "Y-you have to take something... it's dishonourable if you don't."

Just as you are about to ask for clarification, Baroqua interjects, "You know the rules kid, either pilfer something off her person or pilfer her person. She fought and she lost and you won. You could walk away, but that just sends the message that you think she has NOTHING of value and that has a way of causing chaos to send you something much more valuable and much more dangerous."

Right, chaos. So basically if you ignore this harpy that tried to pull a smash and grab on you, you are opening yourself up to something much more dangerous coming for you. You sigh. That is definitely a late game feature to exploit to get rare loot, but here in the first dungeon?

You smartly walk back to the tied up harpy and look her over. You appraise Kestre, you don't know if the strips of clothing are a minimal attempt at modesty, cultural garb or personal style, but they leave little to the imagination as you look over her. Brown feathers with spots of black peppered wings aside, she looks very much human. Taut, lightly tanned legs and a small waist; Kestre's star feature is definitely the sized of her chest on what is a very ballerina-esque frame. You'd think that would make her a poor flyer and maybe she is, but that's not your concern right now. You fee a familiar swelling in your crotch. You weren't planning this, but when you were searching for the medicine earlier you already felt what around what little clothing Kestre had on her. You know she doesn't have anything you could take unless you pluck a few feathers and hope they have value. So the question is do you go for a few feathers or the whole bird?

"In for a penny, in for a pound," you grunt as you start to loosen your pants.

Kestre has a strong blush growing as she berates you in a voice that is more anticipating whisper than veiled disgust, "Not even entertaining the idea that I might have had a shiny you want, eh?"

Your further quips are cut short as she gasps at your growing length, "W-Wow, okay so the noob put all his stats into 'charisma', where the hell were you last breeding season?"

Standing in front of the gawking bird woman, your dick inches from her face, you lift her one handed as you internally muse about the lightness of harpies, "Probably Queensbridge."

"Wher-"

Before she gets another word out you turn her over, holding her upside down and letting gravity do the work of unwrapping your quarry. as the side of her clothing fall and you hold her legs open you can see her flower clearly, it seems she's gotten even wetter than when you were searching her for medicine.

Kestre clearly wasn't expecting to be held upside down and exposed and as soon as the initial shock wears away she's prepared to complain, "Hey, this isn't how you treat a lady, you-hhmm."

Her words die in her throat as she stares at your throbbing member again staring her in the face, menacingly.

For your part you silently observe the meal in front of you. It seems harpies err more on the side of woman than bird. Instead of a cloaca she has a very human looking pussy with brown lips, matching her feathers and tight asshole.

If chaos demands you indulge, who are you to say no. Kestre, still lost in the trance of your organ, stiffens and lets out a warm cooing sound as she feels your tongue lap across her netherlips, "Ooooh, no warning? You animal!"

You would respond to the harpy that tried to ambush you asking for a warning, but your mouth is busy. You start out with long, slightly playful licks. Flicking your tongue on the tail end of every stroke as you lap at her flavour. You aren't weak, but the harpy's lightness allows you to easily hold her aloft as your tongue slides along her folds. You could do this for hours. Maybe your new stamina might make that a possibility? You tuck the thought away for later as you savour the harpy, licking and lusting for her nectar. Your tongue slips past her lips and you lap from her tight slit as Kestre moans against your thigh, your shaft slapping against her cheek as she quivers. As fun as it is to feel like your holding nothing at all, being exposed to the open air is making your cock painfully aware of how lonely its feeling. You grab the shaft and rub it along Kestre face as you search.

You poke the side of her cheek and move towards her mouth. For as disagreeable as Kestre's been all this time, this is apparently one area she is more than willing to give as she open her mouth and leans her head towards you take in the head of your cock. Her mouth is warm and her tongue slick as it polishes the head of your cock. Kestre adjust to face your cock head on instead of just poking the inside of her cheek and you revisit licking and tasting her as you continue holding her. Kestre's moans no less excited even though her mouth is now occupied, Kestre is clearly enjoying this standing 69 position. As she bobs her head forward and back, fallating you with excitement as your cock head pops in and out of her mouth, you trace v's along her lips before circling her clit with the tip of your tongue, pushing her pleasure button repeatedly and firmly lapping at it. The high pitched moans escaping and sending vibrations through your cock tells you how much she's enjoying it and you redouble your actions. It isn't long before the screaming and vibration intensifies, but the motion of her mouth stops as you feel a warm gush spray your face as Kestre cums. Her tongue is pressed firmly against the tip of your cock as she rides out her orgasm, grinding her hips against your face and wriggling intensely in your hold. Fun as this is to view up close, your cock while warm feels under stimulated. This was supposed to be your prize for the taking right? Coming down from her orgasm Kestre makes a confused moan as your hand reaches down to the back of her head. Her eyes go wide as you thrust forward, poking the back of her throat as you feed her more of your shaft. Any complaints or discomfort she could voice seem less relevant as her initial apprehension disappear and she adjusts her neck to accommodate more of your girth. You reward her by dipping your tongue into her soaked sexpot and licking her again as you firmly push more and more of your cock into her eager mouth. The occasional spray from her pussy let's you know how much she's enjoy this and it isn't long before you feel a tingle and throb in your loins. Kestre feels it to and she rocks her head from side to side trying to pull you down her throat. You oblige and slam your hips forward.

"Glk, Grgglk!"

Kestre struggles, but doesn't pull away as you use her face, your balls slapping her forehead, and you continue to pound her until you feel the heat traveling up the centre of your shaft and your hot load spurts forward into her throat. Kestre's moans send vibrations through your shaft as you spray hot cum down her throat in repeated blasts and you gently rock your hips to rub every drop out. As soon as you find yourself spent you pull out of her with a wet pop and turn her right side up. You are met with a harpy who's face is marred with spit and cum and tears and a very happy and dazes expression. You smirk and sit her back down next to her still sleeping friend.

As you put your cock away and begin turning to the forest you decide to ask, "So when's breeding season?"

Kestre mumbles as she starts to sway, falling into her friend's lap, "Couple months from now, I'll send you an invite."

You make a note of that and continue on your journey.