“I always Like licking you, Shayla. And if there's cum involved, that's even better!"

Before he could even utter his obvious assent, Uli was moaning and panting as he enjoyed the feel of the wizardess's warm wet mouth slowly inhaling his chubby, obscenely wide tool into the depths of her slick, constricting oral cavity. Within moments of swallowing his entire broad pole balls-deep inside her experienced gullet, Shayla started bobbing her beautiful flushed face on the warrior's mouth-cramming cock, humming contentedly as she treated him to one of her trademark sloppy, deep- throating blowjobs.

Uli's grunts grew in intensity and volume as the busty wizardess's skilled lips glided smoothly up and down along his robust boner in a fluid, hungry fellating rhythm. Still, as much as he loved watching his stiff dickmeat disappear inside Shayla's pouty cocksucking mouth over and over again, the dwarf was pleasantly distracted by the lewd wet sounds that Laentharyel was making as she lapped and slurped up the rivulets of cum overflowing the wizardess's twitching, slowly shrinking butt-ring.

A big smile was hidden beneath Uli's scruffy mustache while his flinty gray eyes took in the spectacle of Laeny's graceful, delicately sculpted face pressed between Shayla's sumptuous round asscheeks. The dwarf was entranced by the sight of the huntress's wiggling tongue working avidly on the wizardess's distended sperm-coated sphincter, determinedly trying to catch all the dribbles of cum escaping her well-fucked anus.

The elf's naughty sexual willingness combined and somewhat contrasting with her elegant spellbinding beauty represented such an arousing mixture for Uli that he couldn't help but voice his thoughts about Laeny.

“Where in the Thousand Hells have ye been all these centuries, ye sexy pointy-eared bitch..." Uli muttered, as fondly as could be expect by a dwarf warrior talking about an elf huntress.

His long sigh of longing soon morphed into a lustful growl though, as an intense slurping suction on his cock made Uli's gaze turn to Shayla's incredible mouth wrapped firmly around his wide shaft.

“Aahh aye, that's it, lass... Suck me like that!" the warrior grunted in pleasure, reaching down to part Shayla's juicy plump buttcheeks, thus giving Laeny better access to the wizardess's seed-oozing asshole.

The bright yet impish smile that the elf flashed him to silently thank him before she continued her devouring rimjob sent a thrill down Uli's spine, making his fat boner buck with joy deep inside Shayla‘'s dick- gobbling throat,

“Aaachh, ayeee... That's just grrrreat!"

Understandably, the following day Aldarius was in no mood to discuss religion with Jadrik, but the warlock didn't mind.

His head was full of happy memories revolving around cackling imps and floppy troll penises and stupid paladins screaming like frightened Little girls. Grinning from ear to ear all day long, Jadrik felt no need to molest poor sulking Al any further. For the time being, at least only in the late afternoon did the warlock snap out of his personal bubble of dark twisted joy, when, after cresting yet another wooded hill, they sighted the craggy vale that led to the Chapel of Red Spires, the ultimate goal of their quest. Looking like an incongruous, misplaced scar made of orange stone in the middle of the otherwise lush and verdant woods, the barren canyon-like valley that the companions were bound to travel stood right before their eyes, signifying the approximation of their journey's end.

“Uh, fancy that," Jadrik mused, scanning the bare rock-strewn valley from within the shadows of his hood, “we're almost there..

Understandably, the following day Aldarius was in no mood to discuss religion with Jadrik, but the warlock didn't mind.

His head was full of happy memories revolving around cackling imps and floppy troll penises and stupid paladins screaming like frightened little girls. Grinning from ear to ear all day long, evilly yet truly happy, Jadrik felt no need to molest poor sulking Al any further. For the time being, at least.

Only in the late afternoon did the warlock snap out of his personal bubble of dark twisted joy, when, after cresting yet another wooded hill, they sighted the craggy vale that led to the Chapel of Red Spires, the ultimate goal of their quest. Looking like an incongruous, misplaced scar made of orange stone in the middle of the otherwise lush and verdant woods, the barren canyon-like valley that the companions were bound to travel stood right before their eyes, signifying the approximation of their journey's end.

“uh, fancy that," Jadrik mused, scanning the bare rock-strewn valley from within the shadows of his hood, “we're almost there...

Overruling Aldarius's fanatical suggestion to rush ahead there and then, the companions chose to head back into the woods and set up camp for the night instead, preferring to rest and then scout the terrain the following morning after some planning and preparation.

Once the rabbits that Laeny had caught earlier that afternoon were cooked into a fine stew, and after Jadrik spiked Aldarius's portion with a generous dose of knockout serum, the companions gathered around the campfire to chat and relax. Feeling in the mood for some quality beer and fine storytelling, Uli produced his treasured self-refilling drinking horn from his backpack and began telling one of his favorite tales: the legend of Zipfnir, the Alefather,

Addressing Laeny yet staring dreamily into the crackling fire, stroking the long twin braids of his red beard with one hand while taking large swigs from the horn he held in the other ham-sized fist, Uli began speaking.

"Ye see, lassie, the Alefather that I always call upon is Zipfnir, the dwarven God of Inebriation, He is the mythical ancestor that gave my people beer and ale, and infused us with a strong and serious passion for alcohol. As ye can imagine, we venerate him any time we can by partaking of his gifts

To stress his point, the dwarf raised his drinking horn in a silent toast and then guzzled down a few avid gulps, drenching his beard in frothy foam. Smiling under his beer-soaked mustache as he appreciatively smacked his lips, Uli took a moment to lovingly admire the horn.

Despite its plain and ordinary appearance, what the warrior held in his beefy hand was the fabled Horn of Karkaduss, an ancient relic hallowed among dwarfdom. According to legend, it had been crafted from the very horn of the Alefather's own riding ram, Beside its major religious and cultural significance, the horn was especially coveted by dwarves because of its unique magical ability to refill itself automatically at the imbiber's will with a beer of his or her choosing.

Uli had found the Horn of Karkaduss by mere chance inside a nondescript coffer full of ancient and mostly worthless trinkets while he was raiding yet another undead-infested dungeon with Jadrik, hunting for necromantic books. Such an unexpected and impossibly lucky find caused Uli unspeakable joy at first, soon followed by a deep and stubborn paranoia revolving around the possibility of being deprived of that priceless treasure.