The Three Adventurers

Included kinks:

Futa, fantasy, giantess, start of act II, plot chapter, sex chapter, worldbuilding, fmg focus, muscle growth, hyper sizes, threesome, excessive cum, growth, bbw, curves worship, hardcore, romantic, character focus

All characters are entirely fictional and all above the age of 18!

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There used to be a saying.

Give an Islander a pinch of salt, some moldy planks under their feet and a howling wind and they'll feel right at home.

Cozy, gentle Durstrom didn't fill Lyanne with a sense of homely nostalgia just yet. No river, even one this grand would do the storms and waves she was born into justice. Nor would any true Islander draw this comparison, even after a dozen pints.

Still, the Durstrom proved already too wild for some.

It's been five days, but Lyanne still hadn't gotten used to seeing Fel in such a pitiful state. At first, she was rather content to be spared from Fel's first attempts at whistling. But the constant rumbling of that big green stomach turning and twisting and non-stop puking quickly made Lyanne long for the orc's painful piping.

The naked greenskin's entire body shook violent convulsions. Surely, every last fish along the Durstrom got a taste of Fel's breakfast by now.

In a way it was an impressive feat. Undoubtedly, the worst case of sea sickness Lyanne had ever seen. But in hindsight was it that much of a surprise? Afterall, who would expect an exiled desert people who fought over every drop of water for millennia to make for good sailors?

Still, Lyanne underestimated how weak orcish stomachs could be.

"How's she holding up?" Lyanne asked, purposefully slowly steering the ship.

"Doing better, I hope," Syn said, her huge hand calmly resting on Fel's shoulder before she threw up again.

"Just... kill... me," Fel gasped weakly, cowering over the railing.

"Think of the bright side. Be glad Gunjon isn't here. He'd take the piss out of you. You would never hear the end of it," Lyanne grinned.

"I would... rip... hi-"

And the fish got another taste of orc.

"Easy, Fel. Talking makes it worse," the giant elf said caringly.

"It will get easier, Big Green. Trust me," Lyanne offered some comfort. "Also, you'll have to get used to it eventually. If you really want to see my home one day."

"I... would ... rather die... a hundre -"

Fel really couldn't catch a break today.

"Spirits...why me?" the orc coughed.

"I doubt that's the spirit's doing," Syn smirked and turned to Lyanne, while rubbing the distraught desert warrior. "Hold on, Fel. We're almost there. Isn't that right, captain?"

"We better are," Lyanne said watching the river stretching before her with concern. "The current's dying. We're barely making way."

"You think something is blocking the stream?" Syn asked.

"Could be. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Lyanne said and eyed the half-elves' bag with books. "Did the journal mention anything like that?"

Syn shook her head.

"No, Lord Dilaran's report didn't mention the river. They marched on foot. His account stops when his army reached the lands surrounding the forest," Syn explained.

"So, we don't know what awaits us?" Lyanne grimaces.

"Not quite."

The half-elf pulled out the Journal she had gone over a hundred times. Almost as much as Khoren's collection of stories he and his people gifted to her. Lyanne had never seen anyone draw this much joy and strength from just reading. Noone deserved it more than Syn, she always caught herself thinking.

"Lord Dilaran was cryptic in his prose. But he clearly talks of dangers. A hostile land and of wardens who protect it. And a toll that must be paid," Syn says.

"These 'wardens' must be sentient then. So, no monsters? Maybe the Nostarna themselves?"

"It doesn't say," Syn shrugged. "They're simply referred to as the 'Fyrethrim' - the children of Fyr. No further descriptions."

"Your stupid Lord finally got a name right..."

That was as far as she got before she threw up again.

"Any idea what they could be, Fel?" Lyanne asked, but the orc merely shook her head, before turning to Syn. "Is there something in the... uhm... Naahrnna..."

"Narn na Velde," Syn clarified before Lyanne would embarrass herself further.

"I'll probably just stick to 'the Triad book' for now," the islander grinned sheepihsly, making Syn playfully roll her eyes. "Anything in there?"

"Highly unlikely," Syn sighs, reaching for the ancient book and observing it closely. "This is more of an account of us. Not much about events thousands of years ago, let alone Lord Dilaran's last campaign."

Syn kept flicking through the ancient pages, almost like she wanted to prove herself wrong.

With an abrupt flinch she halted.

"What's wrong?" Lyanne asked upon seeing Syn's puzzled frown.

"Does that remind you of something?" Syn said and turned the book around. The page was drawn in the same style as the others, often very much sexual depictions - but it clearly showed Yarathrond. At night. Exactly how Lyanne remembered it.

"Was that always there?" the knight squinted.

"I can assure you it wasn't yesterday," Syn said and turned another page and shrieked, tossing the book on the freshly scrubbed deck.

"Are you seeing this too?!" the giant elf shot up, pointing with quivering fingers. Lyanne leaned over the steering wheel and saw the blank pages laying before her getting filled a stroke at a time. From an invisible brush, in the same wild, colourful manner as the other pages.

"What have you done?" Lyanne gasped and out of pure instinct reached for her sword.

"Nothing. I think."

"What are you two doin-"

Cumbersome Fel slowly crawled away from her trusted railing towards her comrades. Her face turned another shade of pale green, while her grey eyes began to sparkle.

"The... spirits... they are here."

Lyanne and Syn weren't nearly as enthralled and watched the book with terrified caution.

The drawing slowly took shape.

A massive river, most likely the Durstrom, snaked across the bottom of the frame first, followed by lavish woods and overgrown forests sprawling around it.

The trio then watched a huge tree emerge.

Too tall and wide to fully fit the page, it loomed above the countless strokes of varying green underneath. Its roots were so massive they spanned across the entire page like tentacles. Two, no... three giant, intertwined stems sprawled towards the sky, with many smaller ones blossoming beside them.

It almost reminded Lyanne of Yarathrond and its mighty defences, over which their ancient grove towered. Yet, this grove seemed to stand at least twice as tall. As quick as the invisible hand appeared did it vanish and left the page complete.

"What is this place?" Lyanne asked, stepping forward, just like her comrades. "Are we meant to go there?"

"Perhaps. It has to mean something so much is certain," Syn gasped and picked up the book reverently.

"Pfffff...something?" Fel puffed, still on all fours, miserable and weak, but her eyes burning with awe for the first time in days. "The spirits are showing us the way!"

"They could've been a bit more specific then," Lyanne groaned.

"I doubt we can be too picky when it comes to divine assistance," Syn nodded and cautiously caressed the newly drawn page with a growing grin. "It's... still brimming... with magic."

"Let me see!" Fel urged forward, just to stop dead in her tracks immediately.

Her eyes shot wide and her stomach grumbled again.

Everybody knew what that meant.

"NONONONO! TURN AROUND! I'M NOT SCRUBBING AGAIN!" Lyanne shouted, while Syn just shielded the book with her immense figure.

Fel managed to hold back her gagging until her head was once more hanging over the gentle stream she hated so much.

"I just wanted to see it," the orc whimpered in defeat.

"You will, Fel. That's the good thing about books. Once something is in there, it's going nowhere," Syn smirked and looked down at Lyanne who took it up to her to comfort Fel in her time of suffering.

Fel didn't get to offer a snarky reply before her bowels howled again. But the orc's bubbly reaction for once was justified.

Lyanne's eyes were just as curious as Fel's, but she would never allow herself to be this blunt about it.

Yet, Syn sensed her eagerness anyway.

The almost 14ft giantess bowed down and allowed Lyanne a good look. Even a feel.

"Careful," Syn said, holding those ancient pages with the same care others held their newborns.

"It's warm," she grinned girlishly with wide eyes, almost like back when she touched her first whale. "We must be on the right path then? We can't be too far off!"

"Only time will tell," Syn said calmly, adoring the islander's overflowing excitement. "But I'm convinced we are."

Lyanne wished that to be the case. Yearned almost, her heart told her. All the while her mind wasn't done trying to comprehend what she had just witnessed.

Only a few weeks ago Lyanne would've laughed at anyone telling her she'd get to see literal magic unfolding before her very own eyes. Probably even more hearty and accompanied with a small rainstorm of spit at the thought of her not being terrified by it.

Yet, here she was, giddy, her heart thumping, too euphoric to usher a single word. And then, almost like the spirit's heard Lyanne's thoughts, they decided they were not done trying to convert her.

Suddenly, the invisible hand, directly under Syn's eyes and Lyanne's fingers returned. Lyanne's first instinct was to shy away, but curiosity and wonder prevailed.

A single word was manifesting right before them. In elegant old Elvish letters, which were beyond the knight to translate.

This was just ... magical, but her people's natural scepticism was still deeply ingrained.

She reached out, making sure her eyes weren't tricking her somehow. Searching for anything that was beyond her senses. An invisible feather? Any trace of that supernatural warmth that came off the book like a cozy campfire. Anything extending beyond that bright ink magically manifesting underneath her shivering fingertips? Any reason to explain this moment with logic?

But she would find none.

Lyanne and Syn were merely allowed to watch the impossible take place. Nothing more. And without having to admit it out loud, going against her Islander heritage, Lyanne was for the first time at peace with accepting that.

Eventually, those elegant strokes, and gracefully drawn letters stood firm and alone. The invisible hand had left again, and so did the warmth that came off the ancient book.

"Still hesitant to believe?" Syn whispered contently, breaking the silence.

"Not so much anymore," Lyanne smirked eventually, while cautiously touching the page, now void of magic. "What does it say?"

Syn merely snickered as she observed her second in command, her huge curves jiggling as she did so.

"That the spirit's answered your question," Syn said, her learned gaze turning to the horizon. "For it says we shall arrive tomorrow."

---

"Arise... new child," a soft-spoken, voice called Lyanne from a distance.

"Huh?" the knight shifted on top of her straw pallet, unsure whose voice she just heard.

Her arms were still wrapped around her sheathed sword, but they didn't clutch it as tightly as usual.

Lyanne's eyes shot open without any reluctance and nor did her muscle feel sore after another night on deck.

Actually, she couldn't remember the last time she woke up for watch duty this refreshed. After only three hours of sleep at best.

She was never one to dream regularly, but tonight she would've loved to remember what made her feel this... reborn?

Even her angrily manhood stretching her dark robe throbbed with immense vigour. Lyanne got up and stretched, her joints cracking and muscles tensing in delight.

"Alright. I'm ready for my turn... Syn?"

She looked around, but the giant elf was nowhere to be seen. Which was a feat far from easy these days.

Curiously, there was no trace of Fel either.

Not on deck, not in the captain's buck, not on Fel's little refuge on land. Not even ancient gods could've convinced her to stay on board at night after all.

"Hey?! Come on guys. I get it ... but enough is enough," Lyanne shouted, but no one would answer her.

Her sigh was one of defeat.

Syn and Fel brought it to her attention that she was a 'violent snorer'. Fel had a few more colourful titles to bestow upon her.

Naturally, Lyanne felt offended. She slept with enough people to know if that would be the case.

On the other hand, mostly shit-faced sailors and a plethora of women utterly tuckered out after an intense night with her maybe weren't the best people to assess her sleeping habits.

That comment put doubts into Lyanne, but her comrade's reactions were way too dramatic.

They shoved anything they could into their ears. Hells, Fel literally tried candle wax at some point.

That was fun and all but deserting their anchored ship less than a dozen feet away from the riverbank? In the middle of the night? During watch duty? Now that seemed a bit extreme... and reckless.

Her snoring couldn't be THAT bad, couldn't it?

Lyanne sighed again. She wasn't so sure anymore.

Her gaze wondered across the pitch-black sky before turning to the distant clouds of flickering blue. There it was 'Eldervaald'. A place of legend to orcs and elves alike. To most humans though, it belonged to bedtime stories, or the occasional spooky story young lads shared around the campfire.

Nothing more than a fairytale. As it turned out there was also a droplet of truth hidden in the wildest stories. Even the ones about sights so breathtaking they needed to be made up. Lyanne could tell even from afar they weren't.

Eldervaald's natural Asterea groves illuminated the night sky in what looked like bright blue flames. Flames which have grown double in height since last night.

Were they really this much closer? Or were the lights just getting stronger? Anyway, no matter how much that distant spectacle drew her in, Lyanne couldn't stop herself from feeling ... tiny. Helpless almost. Maybe those bedtime stories finally hit the mark at last.

Only more reason to search for her companions.

The two couldn't be too far. They wouldn't leave Lyanne alone and vulnerable like that. Even Fel, who clearly scrammed for any reason to get off ship, to quote 'stop the torture' for a few hours.

Lyanne kept walking around with only the milky moon light and distant blue guiding her way. Strangely, she wasn't trailing aimlessly in these unknown lands. Somehow, she could tell exactly where she was heading. Almost like a faint song was calling her, commanding her across those nearby hills and bringing her closer to ... whatever she was supposed to find.

One hand remained on the heft of her sword though. Higher powers might be in play, but for now there was only one thing in the world deserving of her unconditional trust - her sword arm.

Suddenly she heard voices in the distance, which prompted her to sneak.

"Mmmmhhh.... Yessssss!"

"Shhhh!"

Lyanne still heard them loud and clear, for she got a mastman's hearing after all. Those weren't sounds of a nightly ambush or supernatural event... not in the slightest.

She peaked over the hilltop before finding a rather familiar sight. Turned out it wasn't her sword that needed grabbing.

Down the slope before her, surrounded by candles she could see Syn and Fel in what could only be described as an aggressive role reversal.

Syn had gone full orc berserker and railed Fel like she owed her money.

The gigantic half-elf made the also close to 10ft tall orc twitch and shiver like a common bathhouse wrench, completely frozen in ecstasy and at Syn's mercy.

Fel's feet were dangling off the ground, while she was literally impaled on that massive length. Even from a distance and among the weak flickers of candlelight did Lyanne see that fat outline pulse and throb, up and down Fel's jiggling stomach, in rhythm with those brutal thrusts.

Syn looked just as lost in bliss.

With her head thrown back, wide agape mouthing words of praise without making any sound. Both arms digging into Fel's huge tits, while some fingers were shoved down her throat, swallowing her muffled moans. Surprisingly, the orc seemed to rather enjoy her submissive role, for she sucked Syn's fingers with greedy lust. Lyanne couldn't stop watching.

Witnessing 14ft Syn making Big Green her personal fucktoy... for sure did something to her. As it was evident by the growing tightness in her pants.

The confusion of why Syn and Fel abandoned her on the ship, quickly made way for some deep, seething fury on why she wasn't invited to their rutting in the first place.

"Nah... not on my watch," Lyanne hissed to herself and got up, her rampant boner leading the way.

Fel's wide eyes caught the knight stomping towards them first. And they were filled with terror... until they noticed the furiously throbbing sausage furiously snacking down those pumped thighs.

"Mmmmhh..." Fel grunted, but Syn understood the orc's wriggling as further reason to fuck her even harder.

"I know you're ... loving this... but keep it down," Syn whispered with closed eyes and shoved her fingers deeper into Fel's mouth. "You wouldn't want to spoil the surprise?"

Lyanne stood mere feet away from them, with crossed, bulging arms and a grumpy grimace.

Syn continued to destroy Fel without a single care in the world, totally oblivious of their surroundings and fully caught up in her blissful heat. Fel tried to keep her focus on Lyanne at first, but after a few more orc-shattering throbs did her big grey eyes roll back and her own green mast started to trickle with a constant stream of pre-cum.

"Ahem," Lyanne coughed, once she was done being ignored.

A startled Syn opened her eyes and looked down, past the trembling greenskin bouncing on top of her massively swollen member and froze.

"Oh... hi... Lyanne," the giantess smiled in an attempt to hide her embarrassment and redness shooting into her cheeks. "What... brings you here?"

"I don't know. Maybe waking up for watch duty on a deserted ship?" Lyanne said sourly, staring up the intertwined mountain of orc and elf. "I don't get it. You two could've just asked me. I wouldn't mind a good shagging too, you know?"

Fel's muffled grunts didn't make Syn pull out her fingers, but the orc's eyes fired up in protest.

"I got this, Fel," Syn said in a soft tone - unlike the rest of her that remained firmly hilted inside Fel. "This... was supposed to be a surprise. I owed Big Green here a favour anyway and here we are. We wouldn't have left you out, Lyanne. Don't worry."

"Well, consider me surprised, alright," the knight sighed. "Why the secrecy though?"

Syn smirked when Fel wriggled again, but her huge hold on the greenskin remained tight. Seemingly even a learned woman like Syn could develop a taste for brutish dominance.

"Fel wanted to see your face when she wakes you up. Even bigger and more endowed than she already is," the elf grinned and rammed her enormous shaft all the way into Fel's wet depths with a satisfying slurp. "Personally, I believe it's the orcs' idea of romance to bring their lovers pleasure before a day's duty."

Syn stroke gently through Fel's ruffled up, sweaty mane as she stared down to Lyanne who only reached as far as her bosom.

"At least, the way she described it to me made it sound very sweet. And I'm convinced you'd have loved it too. Especially the growth afterwards. But it seems in our own bliss we've spoiled that surprise for you. I apologize for that."

Lyanne eased her arms and couldn't help but smirk back at the orc's expressive face. It wasn't hard to see what was going on behind those puppy eyes. There wasn't a glint of deception in them, just admiration.