The Arch of Spermaprehenderat

You made the mistake of glancing past the safety and life of the path into the FOREST. In the all-encompassing dark, your brain played tricks on you. The twisted long trucks of the trees and their gnarled branches hurt your brain to look at. Your eyes darted from place to place, looking for purchase. At the very edge of every part of your vision, you almost could make out hands or what might be a leg or a monster waiting to attack. When you resolved your eyes on it, it melded back into darkness. You focused your eyes ahead and set your jaw to the task ahead. Your mind was playing tricks on you. In front was the flickering multiple-colored lights of the city in the distance. You just had to focus on that. You tried your best to keep your eye focused on the pleasures ahead, not the unnatural trees around you and the darkness which could hold any kind of man-eating creature.

You smelt it before anything. A peculiar, pleasant smell. A clean, enticing smell. Somewhat earthy, musky, vaguely familiar. Your nose perked and you found yourself breathing it in deep. It settled deep in your core where it burned in you like the ember to a small fire. It was the smell of a woman. The smell of a woman dripping, needy and wanting. You could smell the dripping wetness of the inhabitants of Strexotica. The town was filled was so many horny elven sluts **** for cock you could smell it before you were even in the city! You felt your breeches stiffen and your pace increase. Your teammates felt the same.

After another hurried minutes walking in the dark, the lights grew in the distance slowly coalesced into the town and the fabled Arch of Spermaprehenderat. Interposed between the path and the city proper, the Arch marked the entrance to Strexotica. It is was large enough for the gods, the central point the height of 10 men, and topped with a triangular keystone. It is made of an unbroken piece of slick, black stone and covered in the embossed, slender symbols of the untranslated elven language. Weaving around the letters are detailed statues of thick, swollen, veiny snakes winding their way through beds of embosed roses in full bloom. At the highest point was a giant pink diamond the size of a man's head that shined a myriad colors in the firelight.

You had to pass through the portal of the arch to enter the city. The space within the arches span was constantly rained by a contained drizzle. It fell in a single sheet of iridescent rain before falling into a drain built down into the ground without even making the ground wet. The rumors of the elven witchcraft were not exaggerated.

Your travelers, glided forward, smiles on their faces and their pockets filled with coins. Passing under the curtain and into the city. You patted your money pouch hanging from your waist. You have been saving up for this trip.