A dock.

The room beyond the cramped passageway was large, and filled with the sound of running water from the underground river that flowed through its centre. The river was clearly navigable, because docked at its bank was a barge.

The barge was laden high with crates and huge cages. And working at the barge were… humans, mercenaries by the look of them, armed and armoured. The men (and they were all male) were unloading crates that appeared to contain food.

As the Cave Toads and their women exited the passageway, one of them men moved to meet them. He appeared to be the groups leader. He was handsome, with blond hair and a lean, muscular grace that was almost predatory. He wore black leather armour, and carried a sword and a whip at his side.

He met the Cave Toads in the middle of the room, and greeted the Elder Toad in a crude approximation of the creature’s own croaking tongue. It smiled, and replied. The man snapped his fingers, and one of the men brought forwards a chest. It was small, but clearly very heavy. And when he flipped open the lid, the adventurers could see that it was filled with gold.

Myria gasped, avarice overwhelming her for a moment. But then she realised what was going on. “Slavers!” she hissed to the others.

“Of course,” Dew whispered, dredging up from the depths of her memory a chapter from a bestiary she once read. “Only about half of all females are fertile with the Cave Toads. The rest, they must just… um, have fun with until their board with them. Of course, by that time consistent doses of the venom would have made them… nymphomaniacs.”

“The perfect slaves,” Myria commented. “Fuck them until their tired and sell them on, huh? Neat little money-maker.”

“It’s an abomination!” Cecilia snapped back in an urgent whisper. “Slavery, and consorting with these depraved monsters… it’s a crime against the gods!”

“Yeah, but what do we do about it?” Myria replied. “There are half a dozen warriors down there, as well as the Toads. I don’t fancy ending up on the auctioneer’s block myself…”

In front of them, the Painted Elder Toad pushed forward a woman. She was stunningly beautiful, a slender, willowy teenager with dark hair that flowed down to her arse. Her eyes were glazed over like the others, but a slight hesitancy in her movements showed that she was still resisting.

Although the group couldn’t understand his words, the Toad’s gesture was clear – an invitation to sample the goods.