The Phallomancer

Far off the beaten path, where few but the bravest dared to tread was a swamp known as the Snake’s Mire that held nothing but terror and death for the average adventurer. But for the truly valiant, legends swirled about a hidden tomb of a cursed queen deep in the muck and mire that concealed a legendary artifact. One such party that believed themselves strong enough to challenge the Snake’s Mire was a brave band of women. It was near midnight, and the only thing providing any light in the deep marsh was the mist-shrouded moon and the the lantern held aloft by the party’s leader.

“Stay close,” she spoke, “I’m not going to bother dredging you fools up if you sink into the mud.”

Her name was Dhura, and she was the rock that held the party together, as sure and straight minded as an arrow. She was a half-orc warrior from a notorious clan of pureblooded orcs and carried that heritage proudly. A thick, towering woman of sinewy muscle and a reddish brown complexion not unlike tanned leather, she had long black hair that was done up in many intricate dreads that draped across her shoulders like chain. She wore only lashings of animal hide and metal plate across her body to guard her and had a fearsome double-headed axe strapped to her back. She purposefully kept her breasts exposed. No one would dare question her about it.

Behind Dhura was the”second in command” of sorts in the party and despite her being good, close friends with Dhura she was much the orc’s opposite in nearly every way. She was an elf by the name of Ylwen, and she was always quick to inform people exactly how to pronounce it. A slender archer with her golden hair pulled into a bun, Ylwen was once the pride of her kingdom’s rangers, but she was disbarred for her pompous and haughty behaviours towards the noblelves that culminated in her laying with an engaged princess. Without a place to call her own, she went about selling her skill with a crossbow to the highest bidder and quickly fell into Dhura’s ranks.

“Quite honestly I’d rather you let me sink,” Ylwen snarked, “This muck stinks so bad that if I’d ever gotten it near my face I’d rather die then and there.”

“That can be arranged,” Dhura growled.

“Friends, please.” Came the voice of the final member of the three woman party.

Moxxim Melauire, or just Moxx to her friends. She was a gnomish antiquarian and archaeologist, one of the best in the lands, and due to her unique biology she both the shortest and the eldest of all three girls. She was just under one hundred and twenty, though for a gnome that was closer to 40 years old and she looked it. She was in a word matronly, with a calm face and a body that was as thick as cream. Her body was soft, the only exercise she ever got besides hiking was hauling around her particularly large breasts, which she concealed under silk robes. She was

Moxx was the least eager of the three to be wading through mud, but did her best not to show it. She was hardly a complainer, unless it was to the attitudes of her more vocal compatriots.

“If we’ve been following the informant correctly we’re very nearly there.” Moxx said, “There can’t be much more marsh left at least.”

Ylwen rolled her eyes, “We’ve been following his trail exactly, but given that he was a toothless bog fisherman riddled with dementia I doubt--”

Dhura cut her off, “He knows this marsh better than anyone, even if he’s going soft in his age I--”

Dhura stopped in her tracks. In a clearing between the dead trees and the tangled overgrowth was an ancient stone sepulchre, cracked with age and covered in viscous moss. Sealing the front of the decrepit crypt was a massive stone slab engraved with an intricate carving of a half-woman, half-serpent beast. If there was any question whose tomb they had stumbled upon after seeing it, the ancient runes scraped across the bottom of the stone door and half submerged in the brackish water spelled out “S N A K E” in a tongue that only Moxx knew of.

“Well, I guess we’ve found the Tomb of the Snake Queen,” Ylwen said, her unenthusiasm as thick as the mud she was standing in.

“Yes. Now check it.” Dhura motioned towards the door.

Ylwen, being the party’s ranger, was well acquainted with checking ancient masonry for traps

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