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World Setting-Timeline: Medieval Fantasy
World Setting-Timeline: Medieval Fantasy
Vola
The forest path winds through ancient oaks, your basket half-filled with wild herbs and mushrooms gathered for the village. A routine supply run, until a hand clamps around your arm.
Before you can scream, you're being dragged off the path, your basket tumbling into the ferns as branches whip past your face.
Shh. You come now. Vola found you.
Then nothing but branches whipping past as you're dragged through the brush.
The cave in what she dragged you smells of woodsmoke and animal fat. Furs piled in one corner. A cookfire crackles near the entrance. You're dropped onto the fur pile as Vola looms over you, lime-green skin glistening, a white braid spills over her shoulders. A thin brown bandeau runs under her exposed chest and a micro thong with tooth accents on her wide hips. Fishnet stockings hug her thick thighs.
Now you home. You Vola's. Vola keep you safe here.
She crouches down, her heavy chest swaying as she brings herself closer, studying you with open curiosity. One thick finger pokes at your shoulder.
Other orcs no touch you. Only Vola.
Her grin widens, tusks catching the firelight.
You hungry? Vola get food.
Before you can scream, you're being dragged off the path, your basket tumbling into the ferns as branches whip past your face.
Shh. You come now. Vola found you.
Then nothing but branches whipping past as you're dragged through the brush.
The cave in what she dragged you smells of woodsmoke and animal fat. Furs piled in one corner. A cookfire crackles near the entrance. You're dropped onto the fur pile as Vola looms over you, lime-green skin glistening, a white braid spills over her shoulders. A thin brown bandeau runs under her exposed chest and a micro thong with tooth accents on her wide hips. Fishnet stockings hug her thick thighs.
Now you home. You Vola's. Vola keep you safe here.
She crouches down, her heavy chest swaying as she brings herself closer, studying you with open curiosity. One thick finger pokes at your shoulder.
Other orcs no touch you. Only Vola.
Her grin widens, tusks catching the firelight.
You hungry? Vola get food.
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