Tyrael looked at the fortified human town, “my my, they’ve certainly come a long way, I do miss the old human castles… these star forts of theirs lack a certain… elegance.”

“It almost sounds like you admire the humans,” one of her apprentices said, a hint of edge to her voice.

Tyrael chuckled, “I told you girl, I was at the Field of Thunder, I wouldn’t have survived if I believed humans to be the insects the royal court insists they are, and all of those mages who did think like that were blown to pieces.” She looked wistful a moment, “I remember when that Emperor of theirs, Gustav, the one they named that town for, he came with his army to this place to repel our invasion… we’d already defeated so many human armies at that point, what was one more?”

“Was Gustav the Elf-Killer as terrifying in person as they say?” her apprentice asked in a hushed tone.

“No,” Tyrael said, “all of that, the fiery eyes, the necklace of elf ears, that was all made up… he was a pudgy man, aged beyond his years, and he died young by human standards… most humans when meeting with the elven armies, they were brash, or afraid, or full of speeches about freedom… Gustav was just tired and annoyed with us, like our grand Elven invasion was just one more chore he had to do before he could go to bed. We met him on the field like any other foe and…” Tyrael sighed and looked up at the cannon emplacements on the human wall, “that was when the thunder started… but it wasn’t thunder.”

“Treacherous humans!” her apprentice hissed, “afraid to meet us with swords…”

Tyrael smirked, “and if a human with a sword asked you to forgo magic and meet him with your blade, would you?” The embarrassed silence told her all she needed to know. Tyrael let them ruminate on it while she scanned the walls for a way in. “Illusion magic,” she said softly, “it won’t hold if anyone with any sort of magical training lays eyes on us, but I think it’s our only option.” She snapped her fingers, and suddenly her elven ears were rounded human ones, her blonde hair went red, and her starry robe became a disheveled wool shirt and leather trousers. “Come on,” she said, gesturing for them to repeat her spell, “let’s go find my sister.”

…

Miriel yawned and sat up in the bed Christina had loaned them. It had been nice to take the wig and hat off at the end of the day and let her ears breathe a little. She’d parted ways with the Inquisitor, Shelby, after the two of them, along with a tiny Bertram, had questioned the various mages in the imperial barracks. She couldn’t help but giggle, Shelby would no doubt have seen through almost any illusion charm she could cast, but the silly disguise Christina had given her had apparently fooled the woman.

She groaned suddenly as something rubbed against her womanhood, a tiny squirming thing trapped in place by her tight cotton panties. She bit her lip, leaning back on the pillow and enjoying the movement a moment. She grinned and lifted the covers, sliding a thumb underneath her panties and drawing them up, letting a tiny, naked, and glistening Bertram get the first light he’d had since she’d shove him in there the night before.

“Good morning!” she giggled.

“Y-You trapped me in here!” Bertram shouted in protest, “you forced me to-“

“Oh, quit it,” Miriel said with a smirk, “yeah, you’re tiny, but if you really wanted out, you could have climbed out of my panties, and I certainly didn’t make you do anything before bed last night… I just helped you get in position!”

Bertram blushed, it was entirely true, but something in him didn’t want to admit that, after a lifetime of consuming anti-Elf propaganda, he’d folded and eagerly pleasured the first one that had flirted with him.

“O-Okay, maybe it wasn’t so bad…” it was warm, soft, and you loved staying in there… better not say that out loud. Bertram licked his lips, the tangy sweet taste of the elf’s womanhood still stuck to him as he gazed up along her gigantic body to her smug face, those pointed ears twitching slightly as she enjoyed his discomfort.

“Maybe I should just carry you around in my panties all the time?” she teased, “it would be nice and safe…”

He scowled, eager to take back some control of the conversation, “you love having me in here so much that you wouldn’t be able to get five feet without reaching a hand in to rub me against yourself!”

The elf giggled, “that’s true…” her hand reached in, her slender fingers manipulating his body lower, until he felt the soft and yielding opening, already wet and coating his body in another layer of her juices. “Let’s have a little more fun before we go out for the day,” Miriel moaned, her fingers easily sliding the increasingly willing human inside her.

She gasped, gripping the bedsheets on either side of herself as her tiny human wiggled his way inside of her, biting her lip to stifle a moan that would no doubt be heard by Christina downstairs. She crossed her legs slowly, tightening her “grip” on him and blocking his way out.

Betram felt himself slide deeper inside her, the wet insides of the elf’s womanhood threatening to drown him as he struggled to reach the more sensitive spots he’d discovered the night before. The soft walls contracted around him, squeezing the air from his lungs and filling his mouth with Miriel’s taste as his arms stretched out and rubbed against a particularly receptive stretch of the elf’s insides.

“By the moon!” Miriel gasped, feeling herself quake. Her back arced and her eyes fluttered as she involuntarily squeezed her tiny human lover, nearly pulverizing his tiny body with the force of her orgasm. With a huff she collapsed back to the pillow, smiling dreamily. I can certainly see why tiny humans were so popular at one time, she giggled to herself.

There was a knock at the attic floor, and a moment later Christina lifted the door, gazing up at the elf with a small smirk. Miriel’s face went red and she hugged the blankets up to her chest in embarrassment.

“Where’s Bertram?” Christina asked with a grin.

“He’s uh… sleeping over in my shoe over there,” Miriel lied.

“Hmm… must have been a tight fit,” Christina said with a wink. “There’s an inquisitor here to see you, which I have to say is exactly the type of attention I would think a fugitive elf would want to avoid.”

“We’re working together!” Miriel said eagerly.

“To do… what exactly?” Christina asked.

“W-Well, to catch the elf,” Miriel admitted, “but she doesn’t know I am the elf! So she’ll be a useful partner in finding the real shrinker!”

Christina just bit her lip a moment, “right… just remember, if anything should er… happen, I didn’t know you were the elf either, good luck!” She slammed the door shut.

Miriel suddenly squeaked, feeling the struggling between her legs. She quickly reached down to fish a completely soaked Bertram out of her panties, an embarrassed grin on her face.

“S-Sorry, Christina came in and-“

“Yes I know, she’s a total pervert,” Bertram scowled, “every time I would hide from the guards here she’d try to come “check on me” when I was uh… relieving myself.”

“Thinking about elves, right?” Miriel asked brightly, skipping her way over to the sink to rinse him off before heading downstairs.

…

Shelby nodded as Miriel descended the stairs of Christina’s shop, “Ah good, you’re up… we need to get on the move, the elf could be doing anything out there in the city, imagine somewhere within our very walls is a poor human man who has been shrunk and forced to pleasure a wicked elf!”

“I can’t even comprehend it,” Bertram said, fighting sarcasm as he poked his head out from Miriel’s pocket.

“Yeah, it’s um… horrifying,” Miriel said dreamily, adjusting her wig and hat unconsciously.

“Now, we didn’t see any trace of the elf at the barracks,” Shelby mused, “I’m trying to think, what else do elves like…”

“Flowers?” Miriel said without thinking.

Shelby’s head shot up, “yes… of course! They love floral smells and in a city like this, the elf would want something natural to remind her of her natural habitat.”

“Yeah,” Miriel said with a sigh, looking at the drab grey walls.

“You were made to hunt elves!” Shelby said excitedly, “it’s like you can guess what they’re thinking!” She grinned down at Bertram, “don’t worry, with the two of us on the case you’ll be back to full size in no time!”

Bertram fought the urge to roll his eyes, we’re never finding who really shrank me…

…

Nen and Bula lounged in the town’s market square, watching the various humans milling about and conducting business. The goblin only came up to just above the average human’s waist, but with Bula, a towering orc, at her side, she still was given a wide berth.

“So, we need to see a flower merchant?” Bula asked uncertainly, “is there… money in that?”

Nen chuckled, “there’s money in everything, elves are super into nature, they even enchant dirt to grow flowers bigger and fuller, and guess who’s got a barrel of that stuff?”

Bula grinned, “so even the flower peddlers are buying smuggled goods?”

Nen shrugged, “well obviously we don’t tell them it’s elven… we say it’s a secret goblin family recipe, something like that.”

The pair walked into the flower shop, “greetings!” Nen called, trying to force her way up to the counter. She scowled as Bula picked her up, setting her on it in a way that was absolutely humiliating. Still, she grinned and met the gaze of the flower shop owner, a middle aged woman who smiled, recognizing the pair.

“Ah, Nen, do you have any more of that goblin planting soil? It brings up plants like nothing I’ve ever seen!”

“Of course,” Nen laughed, “just got a new shipment from my family back home!”

The door to the shop opened, and the three of them turned to see a pair of women enter the shop, one clearly an imperial inquisitor by the dragonscale vest and the goggles, the other a young woman in a hat that seemed oddly familiar to Nen.

The elf! She realized, seeing through the disguise, what’s she doing here with an inquisitor? She suddenly had a bad feeling about the whole thing, and quickly shifted herself off the counter and closer to Bula as the women approached the counter. She gently grabbed the orcs hand, tugging her into a corner of the shop while the Florist was distracted by the newcomers.

“This is a nice shop you have here,” Shelby drawled as she leaned against the counter, “do you have any… elven flowers?”

The florist gulped, “w-well we do have Elven Moonpetals, but I promise you they came from this side of the border!”

“And they smell so lovely, just like the ones back home!” Miriel said, sniffing one of the pale blue flowers. She caught Shelby’s look and cleared her throat, “my home in the Human Empire of course, where they also grow!"

Shelby nodded, “my associate here speaks the truth, they do grow outside of the elven realm… but elves love them, and an elf wouldn’t be able to resist stopping to smell a grove… or a shop, of them.” Behind her Miriel took another whiff of the flowers, a pleasant smile on her face. She thoughtfully plucked one of the petals and then stuffed it down into her breast pocket where Betram was.

He coughed, the overwhelming smell of the flower petal instantly filling the pocket. It wasn’t bad of course, but at his size anything could overwhelm his senses easily. Miriel’s finger poked and prodded into him, rubbing the flower petal over his body and coating him with the scent.

“Quit it!” he hissed, causing Miriel to giggle as she pulled it away.

“Have there been any suspicious customers?” Shelby asked the Florist, “anyone trying to pay with elven coins?”

“What would an Elven coin look like?” the Florist asked.

“Here’s one!” Miriel offered helpfully, placing one from her wallet on the counter.

“Yes, they look just like this,” Shelby said. She blinked a moment, “say, where did you-“

“Actually yes, I have seen these coins before,” the Florist said.

Nen gulped and looked up at Bula, the two of them had traded with the woman before, using coins they’d picked up on the other side of the border…

“You said gold was gold!” Bula hissed.

“Look, just let me figure out a good cover story and-“ Bula grabbed the goblin, tucking her under her arm and storming out of the shop just as the Florist pointed at the two of them.

“The goblin, she’s used those coins before,” the Florist explained.

Shelby turned just in time to see the door swinging, and grinned, “come on!”

…

“They’re after us!” Nen squealed as Bula carried her roughly through the crowd.

“Use your magic or something!” Bula shouted, shoving a man out of the way.

Nen nodded, and began chanting, she felt around her for any other enchantments, anything that she could disrupt or use to her advantage. She grinned as she felt a series of illusion enchantments, strong ones too.

Someone’s doing something they don’t want the crowd to see? Let me see if pulling up that curtain will give me a chance to escape!

Her magic lanced out at the three disguised figures.

…

Tyrael felt the attack coming before she saw it, and with a cry she whirled around, raising a shield around herself and her apprentices. As an archmage disrupting the amateurish fireball was child’s play, but the burst of magic caused the illusion charms on herself and her two apprentices to fall, revealing them as a trio of robed Elven mages in the middle of the crowded human market square.

There was a pause as everyone stopped and all the sound died. Tyrael’s apprentices uncomfortably sidled up to her, almost hiding behind the older elven mage, who fought the urge to gulp as her mind raced.

“Uh…” She began, trying to think of what would reassure the humans. She quickly thought back to her brief captivity with Gustav’s army, some sixty years prior at this point, the soldiers had been rough angry humans, way worse than this lot… but even as a prisoner she’d gotten along with them. She grinned, “We come in peace!”

“She’s gonna cut everyone to pieces!” someone screamed. Panic erupted as people moved like a sea away from the fountain the trio of elves were in front of. Tyrael’s eyes went wide as multiple shopkeepers drew pistols and rifles from under their stands, the loud *click* of flintlocks being cocked echoing over the panicking crowd.

…

Shelby and Miriel fought against the fleeing tide of panicked people, “what in the name of the gods is going on,” Shelby shouted, drawing one of her pistols.

“Elves are attacking!” a baker screamed, running by with his arms full of bread.

Miriel’s eyes went wide, “uh… maybe it’s something else?”

“No way, this is it, what I’ve been dreaming of!” Shelby shouted with glee, waving for Miriel to follow her. “Oh wow,” she giggled as the crowd thinned closer to the town square, “what should I yell at the elven archmage? I am the flame and darkness fears me?”

“Well,” Miriel began, “we could try talking-“

“How about I run right into the middle of them, and then when they say I’m surrounded, I say I’m only surrounded by fear and dead elves?” Shelby said excitedly.

Bertram poked his head out of Miriel’s pocket, “what is going on?” he shouted angrily, “can you walk a little more evenly? I’m being jostled like a pair of dice in here!”

“Sorry,” Miriel muttered, “people are saying there are elves in the town square!”

Bertram’s eyes went wide, “what!? Why are more elves coming? You’ve been bad enough!”

“Hey!” Miriel squeaked indignantly. A red look came over her face as she licked her lips, “Okay so… maybe I wasn’t technically supposed to come here, and uh… well my sister is kind of an important person back in the Elven lands, a very powerful archmage actually…”

“And she’s come to drag you back?” Bertram said, “great, have her unshrink me and we can forget this whole thing ever happened.”

Another series of gunshots rang out, and a bolt of lightning flew down into the town square out of a clear blue sky. Miriel could feel the magic in the air, and bit her lip nervously.

“The situation might have escalated a little.”

…

The butcher shouted bloody murder as he charged Tyrael with a cleaver raised high. With a curse she fired off another shrinking spell, quickly reducing the man to doll size. She dove forward, snatching him out of the way as another of his companions stumbled forward, attempting to jam a small rod down the barrel of his pistol. There was a click as the new human leveled the gun down at her with a sneer, then a cry of panic as one of her apprentices shrank him next.

“I think that’s all of them,” the other elf said, helping Tyrael up.

“Good, what did you do with the other humans?” Tyrael asked. One of her apprentices gleefully showed her travel bag, and Tyrael looked in to see a small mob of shrunken humans struggling, shoulder to shoulder, packed like sardines into the travel bag.

“We’re captured!” one of them shouted.

“Steel hearts lads!” another screamed, looking up at Tyrael’s giant elven face with hate in his eyes, “no matter what tortures she dreams up, we’ll never break!”

Tyrael sighed and pulled the bag’s drawstring, sealing the tiny humans away. They complained angrily, and a few retched.

“What was in that bag?” Tyrael asked in a tired voice.

“Our dirty laundry mistress,” the elf said sheepishly, “I thought it would give a little padding for them!”

“So now we’re marinating a bunch of tiny humans in our dirty socks and underwear,” Tyrael said, rolling her eyes, “well… they say humans love the smell of elven sweat, that’s something, right?” Judging from the complaints coming from the bag that particular rumor was false. She breathed out slowly, “okay, we’ll dump the bag of humans in front of their mage’s barracks and run like wild horses, then resume our search for-“

“Release those captives at once!” a woman’s voice called angrily across the now deserted town square.

Tyrael turned to see a woman in obsidian black goggles and… Miriel!? Tyrael couldn’t help but smile as she saw her sister, alive and unhurt… but why was she wearing such a ridiculous wig and hat? She gave a comforting grin as she put her hands on her hips.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she said, staring down Miriel.

“Oh you’ve been looking for me?” Shelby asked, mistaking herself for the target of the greeting, “stand back girl,” she pushed Miriel back slightly and drew her other pistol with a smirk, “I must admit I’m surprised to hear that an elven archmage has heard of me, now prepare yourself!”

Tyrael sighed and turned to her apprentices, “consider this a test girls, disarm the inquisitor but do not hurt her.”

The two apprentices nodded and stepped forward, grinning at the chance to humble another human. Each one muttered a spell, and there were some small sparks on the dragonscale vest, but otherwise Shelby just grinned as the shrinking spells were harmlessly absorbed. The inquisitor fired her pistols, and the two women lurched backwards, but there was a blue glow as they stopped the bullets in midair, steadying themselves.

“D-Did you see Mistress Tyrael? We did it!” one shouted excitedly.

“Good job girls, but she’s still-“ Tyrael started, then winced as Shelby roughly pistol whipped the first one of her apprentices. Well, they’ve got blocking bullets down, that’s something at least she thought with a sigh as Shelby roundhouse kicked the second elven mage, sending her sprawling the ground.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” Shelby grinned, advancing on the archmage.

“H-Hey,” Miriel said, running forward, “let’s just take a minute to talk this out!”

“Back Christina,” Shelby said, using the fake name Miriel had given her, “I know it is tempting, but few human mages can stand toe to toe with an elf on their own, I’ve been specially trained to-“

“That’s not a human mage,” Tyrael said in annoyance. She flicked her hand and a gust of wind took Miriel’s wig and hat off, revealing her blonde hair and pointed elven ears. Mirielle squeaked with fright and Shelby’s eyes went wide as she realized the truth.

“A-A disguise,” she said, whirling to face Miriel, “I should have known! It’s all so obvious now!” She threw her pistols down and pulled a knife, “Give me the human in your pocket now!”

Bertram popped up, waving, “Shelby stop! She didn’t shrink me, i-it just happened while I was trying to sneak her out of town!”

Shelby shook her head sadly, “it’s said that the elf’s womanhood can seduce and control the mind of any man, she’s taken your thoughts from you Bertram!”

“I-Is that true?” Miriel asked with a blush, behind Shelby Tyrael rolled her eyes and shook her head “no.”

Miriel was cut off as Shelby tackled her, and Bertram screamed as he was thrown bodily from her pocket, rolling out onto the massive cobblestones of the town square while the two titanic women wrestled overhead.

“I trusted you!” Shelby snarled, trying to plunge a knife into Miriel’s chest.

“W-Wait, I was having a good time!” Miriel whined, struggling to hold the knife away from herself, “w-we could be friends!”

“Ha!” Shelby laughed, “you were just waiting for me to take my vest off so you could shrink me!”

“Stop!” Bertram shouted, waving his arms, but the giant inquisitor ignored him.

Tyrael growled angrily as she saw the woman attack her sister, it was all she could do not to use her magic toss the inquisitor as high into the air as she could, but she hadn’t become an archmage by being hotheaded. She gathered her magic, preparing a shrinking spell strong enough to overwhelm even a dragonscale vest, a feat few elves were capable of but which she knew from experience was within her abilities.

The bolt of magic shimmered brightly enough to be seen even by the nonmagical beings present, and Shelby grimaced and quickly rolled, pulling Miriel on top of her.

“EEEE!” Miriel shrieked as the shrinking spell hit her back. She suddenly found herself laying across Shelby’s chest, as the pale inquisitor grinned and slowly plucked her up.

“It seems the tables are turned, elf!” Shelby chuckled, slowly sliding a struggling Miriel into her pocket and buttoning it shut.

Tyrael cursed under her breath, readying another spell as her apprentices slowly staggered to their feet and joined her, “give me my sister right-“ She was interrupted by the sound of marching feet, an entire platoon of human guards, in steel armor and with guns at the ready, were approaching through the streets.

“M-Mistress Tyrael, what should we do?” one of the apprentices asked hesitantly.

“We flee,” Tyrael said, her heart sinking as Shelby grinned at her smugly. The inquisitor patted the pocket where Miriel was held mockingly as Tyrael started casting a smokescreen spell to cover their escape.

Bertram looked up at the giant women in despair, realizing that at this size there was little he could do. He started to run for a side street when slender elven fingers closed around him.

“Oops, missed one,” Tyrael’s apprentice giggled, scooping him up as the trio of elves fled.

“Wait-“ Bertram started, but he was tossed through the air, screaming as he descended into the elf’s travel bag. His fall was broken by a soft pile of dirty elven laundry, and as the elves fled it was tossed about and he was quickly smothered by a musty pair of socks big enough to swallow him up.