Quinn in Haven

The spellform floats gently in the air, twisting around like a Rubik’s cube made from arcane symbols and energy. It looks messy, but as it shifts around a strange pattern emerges in its movements.

You are Scarlet Lily, a.k.a. Quinn, and you’re nervously fidgeting like a virgin about to see their first pair of tits.

You’re not the only one. This is the nineteenth attempt at making what would essentially be the magic internet. Star is teething her mana instruments, her teeth easily denting and scratching the mithril. Klein is checking and rechecking his notes, hoping that the spellform won’t collapse again.

Only Cirrus seems at ease, but that’s only because she’s got the manic energy of a mad scientist about to flood their creation with twenty fuckzillion volts. She giddily flips the switch, cackling madly as the spellform rotates faster and faster, arcane bolts shooting crashing against the shield Star put up.

Right when you think it’s about to collapse, it snaps into place and hums.

You check your mirror and trace the words.

‘HELLO WORLD’

“Hello world?” Star frowns into her own mirror. “Isn’t that a bit mundane?”

You take a picture of your face using the mirror and send it.

“Well, the imaging is working.” Star hums.

“It’s working?” Klein asks.

“IT’S ALIIIIIIIVE!” Cirrus cries out, jumping into her boyfriend’s arms.

They laugh giddily as Klein twirls around, only stopping when you clear your throat. Klein awkwardly puts his girlfriend down and she readjusts her glasses. Poor Star is trying to contain her blush by concentrating on her mirror. These two keep getting more obvious in their affections, without even considering how awkward they’re making it for you—

For her. Star. Yes.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.” Star has the cute little frown and finger tic that means she’s doing some complicated mental math. “The communication and data storage arrays are working, but we haven’t checked the distance limitations.”

Cirrus and Klein take a prototype and hurry off to test the limitations and you stay with Star. You sit close to her and share the other prototype so you can track Cirrus and Klein progress. You hope to enjoy scooching closer to her until your thighs touch…Maybe eventually lean your head on her shoulder.

Except Star calculates the connection’s degradation rate after less than fifteen minutes.

Damn it.

She sends them a message and they come back with miserable expressions. You were all so close. Turns out there’s an issue with light diffusion, even with Cirrus’s atmospheric regulation spells. You’re putting your heads together when you think of something.

“What about spatial magic? Teleporting big things takes a lot of energy, but if we only teleported signals, it should be a lot more efficient.”

“You’re acting like spatial magic is easy to use.” Klein rubs his head. “It’s complicated enough for a single person to use, but for something as small and as fast as a magical wave form? We’d need some high-level books, something from the forbidden—”

Star claps her hands and a pile of books flashes into existence next to him.

“There we go.”

“Those aren’t…” Klein picks up a book and his eyes bulge out of his skull. “How are these here? They’re supposed to be in the forbidden section of the main library, behind dozens of layers of complicated wards!”

“Oh those?” Star waves her hand. “Breaking wards is one of the first things I learned. There’s no way I’d limit myself to reading the few books in this tower.”

You’ve seen her room. There’s not a wall that’s not lined with books.

“In fact, I helped Dean Sher’khan organize the magical librarian system…though there was something that happened a few months ago and the security system improved slightly. I figured the Dean was increasing the difficulty for me.”

Klein quietly turns around and lays on the nearby couch before curling into a ball.

“Kleiny? Are you okay?” Star cocks her head.

“That’s messed up, Star.” Cirrus shakes her head. “Klein was super proud about overseeing the main library. You pretty much told him his position was useless.”

“I was a glorified card checker…” Klein’s voice cracks. “I may as well have been a bellhop with a stamp.”

“I, uh, no Kleiny!” Star quickly backpedals in a panic, her eyes darting in every direction. “I mean, I can move the books around because I designed the library system, that’s all! The wards definitely slowed me down! It’s not like I could have teleported into the library directly, I’m not allowed to leave the tower anyways—”

Wow, poor Klein. You put your hand on her shoulder to get her to stop before Klein collapses into a black hole of self-pity. Honestly, you feel a bit guilty for hypnotizing him and stealing some of the books now.

You let Cirrus rub his shoulders and whisper comforting words to him, instead focusing on the books Star teleported. Her mentioning designing the librarian spell system gave you an idea, one that’s been rolling around in the back of your head since you started this project.

You organize the books, taking care to put the two most important ones to the side. The weird time-space book that called out to you and Aevum’s thesis work. The first, you’ve been figuring out on your own time, and has some oddly specific insights that might be helpful.

The second, you still have no fucking clue how to understand.

Every chapter starts simply enough, but it quickly devolves into highly technical language and explores concepts that you can barely wrap your head around. You don’t just hate Aevum for being a class-A jerk, you also hate him for making his books so damn complicated.

He’s really putting in a lot of effort to be an asshole in every facet of his existence. Even making a copy of his stupid book gave you a headache.

“You know,” You open one of the easier books on spatial magic, “if Star could easily infiltrate the library because she helped make it, we could do something similar with what we’re building.”

“The system will need to have a library of knowledge…” Star perks up. “Easy access to important information could prove helpful in critical situations.”

“I think Scarlet meant we could put in secret bits that most people wouldn’t be able to access.” Cirrus keeps rubbing Klein’s shoulders. “Oh, like a discrete messaging system between specific people.”

“There’s already going to be a messaging system, though?”

“Yeah…but this one will be secret.”

“I’ll put in a version of the bible that only appears when people start praying.” You chime in, pushing the best innocent nun aura you can.

“See, that’s clever!” Cirrus snaps her fingers. “Scarlet can be devious if she wanted to.”

What’s less clever is stealing Cirrus’ idea and actually making a secret messaging system that activates whenever someone uses DESIRE on one of the mirrors. A literal dark web, connecting all the lust-aligned demons together.

You’ll install it into the system as you transcribe the bible in there. It’ll be painful, and a bitch to go through, but it’s the perfect cover. Once you release the mirrors to the public, you’ll be able to communicate with your spawn without being detected, wherever they are in Prillia.

Hmm. You can’t keep calling these mirrors and systems. If you’re going to advertise it for the public, it needs a name.

“Hey, what are we supposed to call these things, anyways?” You hold up one of the prototypes. “iMirrors? Reflecto-pads?”

“Your naming sense is awful.” Cirrus scoffs.

Excuse you? You have over a hundred kids, all with unique names. You have a wonderful naming sense. Sure, you’ve named the first hundred or so after plants, and you’ve recently started naming the newest ones after mushrooms…but you’re a fan of good thematic consistency!

“How about Thaumanaturgic-Spatially-Connected-Reflective-Communication-Devices?” Star offers.

“That’s a mouthful.” You note. “T.S.C.R.C.D. for short? Tsrcrcd?”

“No? Just Thaumanaturgic-Spatially-Connected-Reflective-Communication-Devices.”

“I stand corrected. Star has the worst naming sense.” Cirrus groans.

“Thaumirrors.” Klein grumbles from the couch. “Operating on the Folded Space Network, FSN.”

“That’s a bit boring.” You say like you didn’t call your invention fogholes. “Think we can stick with the Thaumanaturgic-Spatially-Connected-Reflective-Communication-Devices?”

“No, no, Kleiny’s is better. Snappier.” Star rubs her chin. “Let’s go with Thaumirrors. Kleiny, come on and read up on this, it might interest you. Spatial magic is how I, uh…never mind, come read this one about…A goblin in a library? W-what is this?”

Klein groans some more.

---

You are galloping. Galloping is what centaurs do. As Paragon Yellow, you have to be the best centaur, the best at galloping, the best at fighting. You are a part of history, now.

Even if all you wanted to do was study it.

You are Prairie Tenderhoof, acting Paragon Yellow. Ranked dead last in the popularity polls and overall power.

You channel the powers of the Grail through the artifact that lends you its powers, manifesting a glowing yellow road beneath your hooves as you gallop into the air and unleash a volley of arrows onto your foes. Demons pierced by your arrows explode in halos of golden light, tearing a hole in the evil army’s lines. You land on all fours, charging power from your relic into your massive bow armament. Demons of all kinds rush towards you in an unstoppable tide of cruelty.

Since the Paragons caught up to them, this horde has charged inexorably eastward. East, towards the homeland of the centaurs. Your ancestral home. The lives of tens of thousands of centaurs rests on your withers.

You don’t falter. You pull the bowstring back…and loose.

A single arrow, buzzing with holy energies, blasts through the wave to kills hundreds of demons at once. Many remain, choosing to attack you from the sides now that you’ve defenseless. Only, you’re not alone.

A massive red hammer slams the horde on your right to paste just as an orange axe cleaves through the ones on the left, two of your partners joining you at your sides. Paragon Red is an huge woman, to the point you suspect that she’s descended from the Great Knight Kay. Under the thick orange armor is the dwarf, Paragon Orange, a stoic woman who is rare to give out compliments.

“Ach, yer in top form these days, lass.” Paragon Orange claps her oversized gauntlets together, making her battleaxe shrink to a more manageable size. “Ya’ve more than made up for ta necromancer fiasco a few years back.”

“Wahaha! Yeah!” Paragon Red flexes her massive biceps. “You really showed those demons! Tell me, did you end up getting fit without me? Whatever, when we get back, we’re celebrating!”

You almost want to dance on the tips of your horseshoes. Out of the Paragons, you’ve struggled the most to keep up. There’s nothing wrong with your artifact, only you. Until recently, your mind tended to wander in battle. Worse, sometimes your instincts flared up and you’d try to run away.

That usually ended up with you getting captured and being used against the others…

This time, though? You were in the zone. You’ve got an idea why.

“Thanks. You guys really pulled through for me at the end there.” You want to mention Scarlet Lily’s help, but Dean Sher’khan emphasized that the scope of her holy talents should be kept secret.

“Ya think it’s because yer defendin’ yer home turf?”

“Possibly?” You shrug and purse your lips.

The Paragon of Sincerity stares at you. She could sense your dishonesty. Your eyes dart in every direction and you try to deflect her suspicions.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that the demons retreated all the way to the Centaur Plains? Or that they retreated at all?”

“They likely thought they could go for the unfortified centaur encampments.” Paragon Violet crests the hill, his cape dramatically flapping behind him. “They would have been easy pickings for this demon horde, had we not been here to save them.”

You bite your tongue. The centaur population may have reduced the most in the past century, but they're still a formidable force on the open plains. The only reason the demons got so close to their territory was the 'need' to have the paparazzi follow the Paragons around. You glare at the airship hanging back, the flash of their cameras visible from here. The airship isn’t a military vessel, so it’s a lot slower than the relic-empowered Paragons at their top speeds. The flashes increase in frequency when Paragons Green and Blue join you, looking a little worse for wear.

“I took down five named demons. Tough ones.” Paragon Blue wipes black blood from her pauldron. “Green took down four, but that’s only because she aided me in a tough situation.”

"I wasn't willing to risk Swiftwing." The wood elf in green grumbles, her bonded beast hovering high above. "Losing Bloodbeak was enough."

“I only got five.” Red sighs. “You should have seen Yellow, though. She kicked serious butt! Wahaha!”

“Really?” Violet cocks his head dismissively. “Surely, you must be exaggerating.”

“Oi counted twelve named demons. At least.” Orange stares unflinchingly at Violet. “And that’s not includin’ the vast tracks of minions she plowed through. Oi got three named demons. How ‘bout you, dear leader?”

Everyone shifts uncomfortably at Orange’s sarcasm. Violet himself either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He holds up a large horned head, turning his body enough so the photographers on the nearby airship can see it.

“The leader called itself ‘Prazik the Unkillable’. No matter how many pieces I cut it in, it would regenerate in seconds. I must have killed it dozens of times. If I hadn’t been there to keep it in check, it would have wreaked havoc. When you finished dealing with its army, it stopped coming back. I suppose I should thank you all for your assistance.”

The head’s forked tongue sticks out of its maw like a child playing dead.

“Another victory for the Paragons!” Red cheers.

This seemed…too easy. Like finding a neatly packaged present in the middle of the road.

“Something’s not right.” You mumble.

“Yes; you didn’t trip, get captured, or otherwise mess up at all.” Paragon Green comments and pets one of her two pet gryphons.

Green is snarkier than usual. Maybe she’s worried that the next issue of Ultra Paragon Adventures will have her as the butt of the jokes this time with her coterie of monsters flailing against the hordes of demons. Her empowered beasts did well facing small groups of enemies, but the hordes of demons are proving too much for even the Paragon of Loyalty.

Hold on, did the head just twitch?

“Yellow is right.” Paragon Blue points in the distance. “Look.”

A Holy Knight airship flying emergency colors speeds towards you. Not just any airship: a behemoth of an airship, with eighteen mana cannons, an inch of plated mithrilite alloy, and a levitation ring that boasts a top speed of 250 miles per hour.

The Excalibur.

Not the original. King Arthur’s sword is still in the Great Knights Museum.

The airship based on the sword is still a manatechnological marvel.

While most airships keep the same vague seaship shape, the Excalibur is in the shape of its namesake, gliding through the sky without a shudder like a blade cleaving through water.

Paragon Violet doesn’t hesitate; he dramatically turns around and points theatrically at it.

“Our work is not yet done. We must answer the—Ow, son of a bitch!” The head bit him!

He lets it go and it rolls down the hill, laughing. Insect legs pop from the neck and it scuttles off, yelling in its nails-on-chalkboard voice.

“Let it be known that today is the day you almost defeated Prazik the Unkillable, Grixum Bloodbather’s right hand demon and eventual demon king! Bwahahaha!”

“Bastard!” Paragon Violet swings his blade violently, arcs of magic slashing at the demon.

He huffily straightens his cape, ignoring everyone’s stares. Did he finish him off this time? Hopefully, the demon detecting enchantments on the approaching airship can help find him.

Once the airship descends, the six of you get on and are welcomed by a contingent of saluting Holy Knights. A Blade personally leads you to the upper deck and into the meeting room. The Excalibur was specifically designed to transport the Paragons, and the relic that powers them if need be.

The Blades leave the room, the windows of the room shutter closed and lock, and the doors slide shut.

It’s just you and the other Paragons now. No Knights, no cameras. Only the enchanted quill, taking note of your words. The tension in your chest dissipates and you remove your helmets.

A golden projection plays, showing a map of Prillia with the last contacted forces and hot zones of demonic signatures. It still baffles you that there’s an enchanter on call just to make presentations for you guys. Aside from that, the situation isn’t looking good. Red zones denoting demonic energy are scattered across the map. The heat map spreads throughout the southern half of Prillia, in ranges far wider than is acceptable.

You frown; no chance of finding Prazik in that mess.

Paragon Blue takes of her helmet and fluffs up her hair. At this point, wearing your helmets outside is a formality. The public already knows your faces. Miss Effluvia Primrose leverages her fame as Paragon Blue to design clothes. She’s got quite the following.

“It seems we’re in for a rough one.”

As you thought, you were being led away. The hottest zones are spread throughout southwestern Prillia, encompassing most of the elven and blooddrinker territories, and a good deal of the southern goblin coast. The main objective of the demons is still unknown, though there were several reports from outposts that the main focus somehow involves Weeping Mountain.

That was one of the last messages that went through when all Niflheim broke loose. Roving bands of demons sprang up to attack knight outposts and cities, spreading your forces thin. You worry the unprotected towns Sher’khan warned about were only a small part of those lost in this incursion. You go through the documents quickly, half-listening to the others.

Paragon Green, a wood elf on the shorter side, chews her nails nervously. Jessica keeps much of her life to herself, but you know she’s got family at a large orchard in the hot zone. Even if she’s catty most of the time, you do feel bad for her.

“Any word over radio?” Paragon Red takes off her helmet to reveal…another mask.

Reds tend to be eccentric. This one is a famous masked wrestler known as Hippolyta. She hasn’t slowed down at all since you first became Paragons, in both the matches and as a Paragon. You were a bit scared of her at first, but your curiosity in her got you interested in wrestling.

She waves a hand to show the projection of the reports. Quite a few outposts report that the demons used magic to attack the radio towers. Some repelled the attack, but others were cut off from communication. And the order in which they were attacked...

You prance nervously.

Poke.

You spare a glance at Paragon Orange, Amber Mithrilforge. Since her identity was revealed, she’s become a powerful member of the dwarven mercantile union, praised for her dutifulness and honest trade deals. Unfortunately, she’s got a curious streak wider than the Dwarven range.

“There are several reports that it originates from Weeping Mountain. We should head there as soon as possible.” You suggest.

“Rein yourself in, Yellow.” Jesper says curtly. “We need to aid the besieged Holy Knight outposts first, get an accurate read of the situation.”

Jesper seems like an affable man. He’s well-liked by the cameras at least. Despite seeming pleasant, Jesper is almost tyrannical to his inferiors. His vicious temper and desperate need for glory are among the reasons why none of you have undergone the Search for the next Paragons yet.

While the Holy Knights are bound by their oaths to aid the Paragons, since Jesper is the only Paragon formerly from the Holy Knights, he’s the one they tend to follow. Which has made him the ‘leader’ of the Paragons in the eyes of the public.

Despite his lackluster tactics.

You're still thinking about the timeline of the involved reports.

First, the Silver Fist Knights report in from a town south of Weeping Mountain that they're hunting a minor demon incursion. These things happen every so often, a few wild imps causing mischief and mayhem. A few weeks later, Camelot University sends an all-hands warning about a worrying demon raids in towns close to major cities. Assorted knight orders scatter and send varied reports of destroyed villages in numerous places south of the Feldspar River.

There's no clue until the Lunar Knight report involving a joint operation against several demon incursions. This was soon followed by major demon incursion warnings, which prompted the six of you to join the effort. It was during this time that the Lunar Knights, the Silver Fist, the Solar Knights, and a small ancillary order fought at the battle for Glowshroom, after which the Solar Knights sent a detailed account of a grand strategy involving Weeping Mountain.

After that, this report gets circulated as the demon incursions intensify.

“I’m sorry, but no.” The others look at you in surprise. “The first clear message we got about the demon incursion was from a joint operation between the Knights of the Principality and a few smaller Orders. They were heading towards the northern edge of the elven territories, near Weeping Mountain.”

“A report made by a known vampire.” Jesper spits out. “How reliable.”

“A report made by a man so loyal and devoted to Solaria, he bathes in her light despite his vampirism.” You shoot back. “Furthermore, one of the Holy Knight’s own Blades, Ena Valorum, reported that the attacks started in that region and she was heading towards Weeping Mountain before the attacks ramped up.”

“Paragon Yellow!” Jesper slams his hand on the table. “As the Paragon of Humility, I would think you’re not one to overstep your bounds.”

“And Oi would think that the Paragon of Temperance would nae get angry.” Amber shrugs. “But here we are.”

“Enough.” Jesper growls. “We’ll call back the Holy Knight ships to help us sweep through the outposts.”

These are clearly distractions! Letting demons run wild is bad, but letting them plan something is a recipe for disaster. Jesper discusses the logistics of the sweeps with the others when Amber pokes your withers.

“Ya really stood up for yerself, eh?” She whispers. “Are ya now yer hittin' yer stride, or nae?”

She won’t let up, will she? You sigh and shift uncomfortably. You don’t have to tell the whole truth.

“Someone gave me a holy cleanse. It’s made things a lot easier.” You let out a tense breath as Paragon Orange nods.

“A holy cleanse? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Despite jumping out of his discussion with Green and Blue, Jesper acts nonchalantly. “I’ve never known you to get close to those with holy powers…Unless this has anything to do with the nun in the Dhampir’s Tower?”

The Paragons look to you for answers. Your blood runs cold.

Jesper knows about Scarlet Lily, and you may have just put her in his sights. You kick yourself. Paragon Violet is supposed to be the model of temperance, and Jesper takes advantage of the position by supposedly training his underlings to resist temptation through borderline torturous methods. He’s turned the bright young Star into a shrinking recluse.

And now, he’s aware that Scarlet Lily is not a simple tower caretaker, but a potential Saintess Candidate.

How is the kind nun going to survive Jesper’s attentions?

---

A few days ago, the Purity Front tried attacking Haven. Keyword, tried.

You are Quinn, and you’re still dealing with the consequences.

Thanks to Silverbrood, you were pretty much able to play them from both sides. If they weren’t so blindly devoted to hierarchy, they wouldn’t have listened to Silverbrood’s false information and attacked during the day.

There could have been casualties! Crazy assholes.

The crazy assholes are having their assholes widened, so all’s well that ends well. But you can’t always be there to defend Haven.

Not that the Purity Front knows that. You dropped the hammer on them, poached their most skilled casters, fighters, and assassins and charged them for their crimes. You made sure to show them off to whatever passed for leadership.

Seeing their best and brightest reduced to lust-drunk sex slaves was quite a blow. Enough for those that didn't commit any crimes to stay on their best behavior and pass along the message to Bright Glory.

The Purity Front, knowing they’d lost, tried to recoup losses by extracting as much profit from Haven as they could. Buying unique Haven products, selling spots to visit Haven for the more criminally connected citizens of Hacksonville…You kick them while they’re down and sell them more damaging drugs for cheaper than they could find at Nancy’s Tavern.

June and July are skilled enough to make detoxes quick and easy, though they won’t make them cheap for non-citizens.

As a result, Haven’s population nearly doubled overnight. You gave a choice to all but the cruelest attackers: Get up to ten red token’s worth of debt and find a way to work it off within the year, or sell themselves into slavery to work it off quicker. With the deep dicking they'd gone through, many are eager.

Anyways, that’s why you’ve got around a hundred elves in the pens. You’re feminizing a lot of the snootier men, too. Good thing you’ve improved the soulshield you developed for Unlucky, or Miss Fortune as she calls herself now. Mindbroken elves are only good for one thing, and they have skills you’d like to use to benefit Haven. Nurses, managerial staff, imp relief, agriculture...

As for the really messed up ones? The serial killers, the torturers, all the irredeemable ones have their souls plucked from their bodies and put into the blender. Their bodies are now being loaned to your demons.

A few of your spawn have taken to exploring Hacksonville and mingling with mortals using these thrall bodies. Sometimes not even to seduce!

The demonic plane quadrupled in size, though you made sure the only thing within the city that grew to match is the park and your palace floating above it. The city itself is dense enough so that another ten thousand people could live comfortably, let alone a hundred. Instead, the farmlands, suburbs, and wild areas expanded. There's loads more products being grown now! Not to mention the prime real estate, though there's not a big market for it just yet.

There are far more unaffiliated mortals casually visiting west Haven, their pink glasses masking all the demonic stuff around them. They’re sold on the idea that this place is a sort of underground black market, completely ignorant of all the perverted stuff happening around them.

“—and that’s why they can’t see you cranking your hog.” You finish explaining to Phillippa Twistroot.

Phillippa, blushing and sweating, is jacking off through her skirt on the bench next to you. She’s one of the merchants affiliated with the Purity Front and was caught by one of the new BIMBOS officers as she was trying to smuggle a spatial pouch full of silvered weapons through Haven in the Purity Front's initial movements.

You found that she’s one of the best candidates to lead the elven gated community. There’s only about twenty other elves from the Purity Front with a low enough debt to be wandering free around Haven. Twistroot is just as bitchy as the others, yet her soul tells a different story.

Yes, she’s still a bitch. But she also likes genealogical mapping (not surprising), is slightly less discriminating (actually surprising), and has a tendency to submit easily to a higher authority while acting like a utter bitch to those beneath her.

Okay, you’re not exactly painting a good picture of her. It’s the last bit that’s important.

She doesn’t hear much of your explanation for why she can just flip up her skirt and masturbate the cock you gave her openly. She’s too busy staring at the collared elf across the street getting gangbanged in front of the bar. Occasionally, a mortal wearing pink glasses will stop by to take a look and nod, impressed, then mention something about how skilled the group is at breakdancing.

“If you want,” you whisper in her ear, “you can go join them.”

“As if!” She turns her nose up. “I’m simply thinking about how that poor woman is making elves look bad. Rutting in the streets like an animal!”

She keeps jacking off.

“Woman? That’s a feminized man.” You laugh out loud when Phillippa shoots cum through her skirt.

Though it’s fun to tease the smug elf racists, you still have a problem. Eventually, many of the Purity Front will pay off their debts. And sure, you could pick out all the nastiness in their souls, but that’d take up a lot of time and effort. You still have to go through the new citizens on the waitlist that you need to have kids with!

Plus, though these elves are super hot, they're are all a bunch of pillow princesses. Even the men! When they’re not gagging on cock, they’re so damn rude. Unless they’re really desperate for sex, they lay there and have their partners do all the work. You hoped that by feminizing more of the males, they’d be willing to learn to fuck better and maybe consider looking for non-elven men to fuck, but nope.

After a while, dumb pride stops being cute.

What they need is a cultural shift. Which you intend to do inside the gated community.

You lead Phillippa to a large plot of land in the northwest quadrant, near the edge of the fog border. She gapes as you will the stone wall to open for her, staring in awe at the preserve you designed.

You grew a massive oak tree in the middle of the property, easily five hundred feet tall, and had art deco style houses spiral around it. The closer the house is to a tree, the bigger and more extravagant it is. Several bridges extend from the roots to a large manor built between the branches of the massive oak. Most importantly, there are plenty of reflective surfaces hewn into the decorations.

(That’s a surprise tool that’ll help you later.)

There’s space for at least a thousand elves on the surface. There’s more underground, with tunnels that lead directly to several key places in the city itself. Like the hospital, the BIMBOS station, and the pens.

The city is built with that sense of hierarchy the elves of the Purity Front love, with a whole lot of lewd secrets hidden throughout it. By building it in the image of luxury, the elves will be too content to ask questions.

You bring the starstruck Phillippa up to the manor and give her the key.

“…I thought I was a prisoner?”

“Oh, you are.” You wrap her in a hug and give her plump ass a squeeze. You grin as she blushes and looks away, pretending her cock isn’t begging to plunge into your pussy. “You’re also a warden. Would you ever want to leave here, if all the other elves that live here are your subordinates?”

“My…subordinates?” She pauses when you twist your hips so her cockhead is pushing between your legs.

Why bother trying to rule over them, if you can appoint someone to manage them for you?

“Yes, your subordinates. Wouldn’t it be nice to have all the horny women living here begging for your virile member? A lot of men are already shrimp-dicked femme cocksluts. You need to organize them, lead them so your lines remain pure, right?”

Her member throbs against your pants, pressing a splotch of pre against the fabric protecting your pussy.

“Imagine…instead of the dumb mistakes made by the leaders who sent you here, you’d be in charge. Determining the proper matches to ensure the purity of high elves you are so desperate for. All those breedable women and cock-starved femboys at your beck and call. You’re no longer limited by gender, after all.”

Phillippa breathes heavily, her hips thrusting her cock between your thick thighs. Her heart hammers in her chest, begging for her to say yes.

“They’ll be your elves. All you need to do is keep them here and occasionally let me borrow them when we need them.”

Nothing too bad. June and July deserve a reward, and they’ve mentioned several times that imps are too horny to use as nurses and that their mortal doctors deserve more time off. If you need more BIMBOS, the elves will be available. And the House of Temptation could do with some fresh blood, what with the limitations the Pirate Lords placed on Nancy's Tavern's demon population.

“You’ll only need to answer to me, and the demon I’ll send for your protection. You won’t be able to manage everyone by yourself, after all.” You lean closer and give her a dazzling smile, squeezing your legs to push her cock deeper against your pussy. Her nipples dig through your bra to poke into your tits and she finally nods.

“Yes. Yes, Lord Quinn.”

You kiss her on the forehead and let the clothes dissipate off you. You’ll need to reward this horny elf.

After she fucks you against the doors of her new manor, you fly to your palace and start cooking up a plan. You promised Twistroot that you’d send her a demon to protect her, though you’d like her to go a bit mad with power first. The first elves will be assigned to live in their gated community soon, with Twistroot as the undisputed HOA president. There's no way it won't go badly.

Nothing like coming in to save the day with a demon from a brand-new species. The only question that remained was what sort of creature do you want to make?

You remember your first original creature and shudder. Everyone hates their first OCs, that’s normal. It’s hard to get over when every time you go into the underground tunnels, you spot some demons playing soccer or tennis with the suck-you-balls.

No need to go crazy with the design. Keep it simple, close to elves so there’s not much than needs to change. The creature also needs to be stronger and faster than normal, the recent attack by the Purity Front proved you can’t fuck your way out of every situation.

So, something like elves, but different. Stronger, faster, and if possible, sexier.

Hmmmm…elves are already pretty hot. Maybe you should make these alternative elves hot in a different way?

You’ve fucked enough elves to recognize a few subraces. Wood elves tend to have light brown skin tones and nature-themed hair colors. They’re also shorter than the other elves, but not by much. High elves have lighter skin tones, reaching almost porcelain white, and hair colors that range from white to golden. Regular elves are sort of on a gradient between the two, with far more varied hair colors.

Your elves need another feature to set them apart from the other elves. Taller, stronger, more muscles, darker skin…Dark elves, right! Instead of the lighter skin tones most elves have, you can go for a darker brown to black. With hair that comes in white, silver, black, or red. They need to be bigger and stronger than the elves to constantly dominate and humble them.

What about a unique feature that really sets them apart, like how high elves have the longest ears of all elves. Hmmm…Pointy noses? Okay, now you’re thinking of Gerudo. Yeah, that could work. Who wouldn’t want a bunch of amazonian dommy mommies in their elf enclosure?

Now that you’re going with a specific theme, you’ve bursting with ideas! If you want to guarantee that the first dark elf comes out the way you want, you’ll need some help from two very specific succubi. You squeal and kick your legs as you fly faster to your palace.

This is going to be so much fun!