Brandon Twice
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Choose Your Own Adventure (Part 1)
🕑 Added 2019-11-09 01:00:02 +0000 UTCYou pull your rune-covered cloak around you as you stand in the shadow of Duskhollow Keep. The clouds above seems tinged with deep purples and shadowy blues as if the evil of the castle pervades nature itself. Inside, the most vile wizard the land has ever seen sits on his throne: Solstice, the Twilight Mage. You imagine he’s got Princess Elfina in a rickety cage, swinging from a nearby hook. Perhaps he’s transformed her into a two-headed snake or a pile of writhing maggots. Maybe he’s sent her to a hellish dimension where she only knows eternal torment. You shudder to imagine the possibilities when mystical talent at such an aweinspiring level combines with one the most sadistic human minds in history.
“There it is,” proudly states Sir Markwyn. His red cape flows from his broad, armor-clad shoulders as he pulls up his helmet to get a good look. “Up in that tower is my fair maiden, Princess Elfina.”
“Unless he’s done something to her,” you add. Sir Markyn shoots you an icy glare.
“How dare you,” he says as he strides, ever gallant, toward the tower. “Those of us who know courage deny despair at all costs. Hope is the final blade against the wicked. Did they teach you to give up so easily at that wizarding school you spent so many years at?”
You don’t have an adequate response, but Markwyn’s barbs wound you. He runs a strong hand along his lantern jawline and shakes his head. You get nearly woozy from his beautiful face, his deep dimples, his powerful body. His strong, confident aura is more powerful than any charm spell you know. You wish you could be Princess Elfina, if just for a night. Perhaps if you don’t end up rescuing her, you could work on a simply glamer spell that Markwyn wouldn’t see through until it’s too late.
Behind you stand your two companions, U’rrg, the half-orc, and Keaxe, the barbarian. Both of them were rescued as infants by his highness, King Tuston XI, and raised as if they were his own children. U’rrg has the height, brawn and little tusks of his people. Standing just under 7 feet, his skin is so slightly green that many often mistake it for a trick of the light. He rubs a huge clawed hand over his bald head and swings his big club threateningly. With his other hand he adjusts his loincloth, under which you imagine an orc-sized cock to match all of the other bulging orc-sized muscles on his body.
Keaxe is nowhere near as tall as U’rrg, just over 6 feet, but his body is just as powerfully muscles. You appreciate that, as most of his brethren do, he wears only a small animal skin around his waist to cover his private areas. The rest of his tanned, hairless physique is always paraded around in its bronzed, veiny glory. Every part of him is hard an sinewy. He looks like a man who grew up wrestling with the Earth. If his huge biceps aren’t enough to handle anything you come along, he has a massive axe made of mammoth bone strapped to his back.
You’re the fourth member of this party. You run through the spells you memorized at camp earlier that day, hoping you can just use your intellect to avoid any trouble on your way to the keep. And with any luck, the massive half-orc’s club, the sturdy barbarian’s axe and Markwyn’s glinting blade will be enough to handle the evils inside the keep.
If you ever make it there.
Before you are three pathways to the keep. One road, winding slightly West, heads through a gnarled and overgrown garden whose twisted plants extend above your heads. To the Northwest the path ends at a bubbling, mist-covered bog. To the North is a path that heads on a muddy path that seems to lead behind the keep.
TO ENTER THE GARDEN, TURN TO PAGE 51
TO VENTURE INTO THE BOG, TURN TO PAGE 22
TO FOLLOW THE MUDDY PATH, TURN TO PAGE 37
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Page 51
Markwyn’s cape keeps getting caught on the thorny briars that hand down along your path. The garden seems like an unkempt, overgrown hedge maze. Vines hang down over the path on all sides as well as thorny briars and twisted flowers of deep red, dark violet and black.
“The purpose of a garden,” Markwyn states after he yanks his coat off yet another patch of thorns, “is to cultivate beauty. This is like a monument to perversity.” He unsheaths his glimmering blade and starts hacking at the overgrown path to clear their way. Keaxe does the same. U’rrg uses his claws to pull vines apart. You ready a fireball spell, not sure if you should use it yet.
“You, wizard,” Markwyn barks coldly. “This was your idea to go down this path. Are you sure it even leads to the keep?”
“I would imagine all of the paths before us led to the keep, but… each one of them probably has some sort of unique obstacle to prevent us from getting there.”
“Weak wizard,” Keaxe grunts. You try not to take offense. “If he had any real power he would face all challengers head on.”
“Bad plants,” U’rrg growls. “Hate plants. Hate flowers.”
“This is more of an annoyance than anything else,” Markwyn says. Just as he finishes, you notice a large purple bud, as big as Markwyn’s rather large head, turns on its stalk to face him. The petals suddenly burst open.
“Singe Ignios!” you cry and a fireball blasts past Markwyn’s head. The flower burns instantly and falls to the ground, reduced to ashes.
“Good lord!” Markwyn cries. “You nearly took my head off! Watch what you’re doing with those spells, wizard, before I…” He pauses. He inhales loudly. “Do you… do you smell that?”
U’rrg hunches down as he detects the smell with his enhanced, animalistic senses. “U’rrg smells something… something…”
“It’s the sweetest perfume I’ve ever smelled!” Markwyn yells. He takes off down the path at a near sprint, hacking wildly with his sword. He’s clearly furious these plants would slow his approach. U’rrg follows, pawing at the ground as he approaches.
“It’s like… warm, creamy butter from the milk of the plains beasts,” Keaxe says, sweeping his silky black hair out of his face. “Goodness, it’s so strong!” He runs after the other two.
TO TURN BACK AND LEAVE THEM TO THEIR FATE, TURN TO PAGE 5
TO FOLLOW THEM, TURN TO PAGE 99
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Page 5
Sure that your companions are headed into an obvious trap, you call after them a few times but decide against charging in after them. You head to the edge of the garden and wait for their return. When they don’t show up, you cast a bright glowing light into the air. It attracts moths but not much else.
Satisfied that your companions are dead, you head home. King Tuston brands you a coward and holds you responsible for the death of his men and his daughter. You’re thrown into a cold prison where you spend the rest of your days jerking off to a crudely scrawled image of Markwyn you scraped into your prison wall.
THE END
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Page 99
When you finally catch up with your companions, you find they’re in a large clearing. A huge flowering rosebush rises up in the center. Several dozen buds protrude from the bush, of maroon, silver and emerald varieties. The smell is clearly coming from this spot. The path continues past, but your companions are kneeling before the rose bush, sniffing furiously.
“It’s… exquisite…” Markwyn moans. U’rrg just grunts, You see Keaxe is actually drooling at the smell of a particularly small green bud, barely open, that he has to kneel to get close to. “Oh, goodness. Look at that beautiful flower right above you, wizard!”
Markwyn points above your head. You turn around, ready to fire another spell, but before you can move you find yourself staring into the open petals of a glimmering flower. You’re overcome by a sickeningly sweet smell.
You turn around, stunned and getting dizzy, in time to see some of the flowers on the bush suddenly bursting open into a wide yawn, breathing out some sort of shadowy mist. Markwyn, U’rrg and Keaxe are too caught up in the intoxicating smells to do anything to defend themselves.
Suddenly you feel yourself falling. Everything around you is a purple blur. When it’s over, you realize what you’re staring at is a rune on your own cloak. While it should be only about six inches across, it’s the size of your own body!
You crawl timidly out from the mountainous pile your cloak has become, ashamed of your sudden nakedness and feeling very exposed.
Outside the cloak, the garden remains unchanged--just much bigger than it seemed moments ago. You see U’rrg’s fallen club and loincloth, Keaxe’s fur and axe, and Markwyn’s shiny armor in small piles where each of them were standing. You call out for them but your voice is too small to be heard.
With a quick glance around--are there birds? Wolves? Even a hungry vole could be a danger at this size--you jog across the massive field this garden path has become. Keaxe and U’rrg climb out of their now-huge clothes. You try not to gawk at their nakedness, although it strikes you that despite their huge muscles and big swinging dicks, each of the ferocious men amongst this gigantic tableau seems almost adorable.
“Wizard!” shouts a high-pitched voice from above you. You see Markwyn, nude and tiny like the rest of you, clumsily freeing himself from his own chain mail armor. I demand you undo this at once!
He sounds like an elf sprite, although you’re loathe to admit it to him while he’s red-faced and raving. You can’t help but notice that of all of your companions, Markwyn is the most heavily endowed; his manhood hangs long and thick between his legs above two very juicy looking gonads. Now it makes sense why he’s so brash and confident.
“I don’t know any spells to help!” You try a simple disenchantment spell on yourself but nothing happens. The power of these flowers is obviously beyond what you can disrupt with your magic.
“What good are you?” Markwyn shouts. “The whole reason we brought you here was to…”
Suddenly you hear a loud rustling on all sides. You watch as little leafy vines emerge from the rose bush, crawling along the ground toward you. The open rosebuds move as well, hovering overhead. A few descend near Markwyn, their petals reaching toward him like hungry mouths. Another cluster appear above U’rrg and Keaxe. You turn to run but find a single vine has wrapped itself around your legs, hoisting you from the ground.
“It still smells so… so wonderful!” Markwyn says as he stares up at one vibrant red bud. It opens its petals wide, then lunges down for Markwyn. It snatches him up suddenly, the petals wrapped tightly around his upper body leaving his strong legs swinging wildly. The bud rises up and away now, taking Markwyn with it.
Two more buds dip down, each one of them pointed at one of your companions. Keaxe gets slurped up first by a hungry blue bud. A mossy colored flower wraps around U’rrg and lifts him up and away.
You hang there uselessly for a bit, swinging back and forth, waiting for your “death by flower” but it never comes. As the light of day fades, you cast an Incandescence spell to light the area. Despite your precarious situation, you’re not ready to tangle with these horrors in the dark.
With your magical light glimmering, you can see where your companions have gone off to. Above you are three plump buds, each clearly stuffed full of shrunken man. Occasionally they wriggle, but less and less as time goes on. Then it all stops and it’s silent in the garden.
The vines around your feet are now wrapping around each of your toes individually, tickling them and spreading them apart. You giggle and squirm until you feel them start to burrow into your feet, but it isn’t painful. More like the feeling of scratching an itch. You can feel the vines running through your insides. Your body gets cold, your skin turns a shade of green. By the time you realize what’s happening, you’re strangely calm about it. “Must be the flower subduing me as it changes me,” you think. By the end of the day you forget you came with others who were devoured by carnivorous plants. You forget you were ever a tall man, or that there was once a Princess in need of your aid.
It’s a whole week before your head, now a brilliant indigo color, bursts open to reveal big glittery petals. You exhale your sweet nectar into the air, hoping someone will venture nearby for you to shrink and swallow whole.
THE END
