The Three Hunters (PrometheanXPenin)

[Promethean]

The Gilded Coast was a beautiful side of Western Cithros the town of Parappa sat right on the coast, it's harbor bringing in trade, fishing, and transportation between provinces, most travelers would find themselves docked here at least for a time. Just outside the city, the autumnal leaves were falling, a crunchy golden brown below your feet as you walk through the forests. Beyond the walls of parapa lies ancient Elven ruins, Minotaur tribes, and your occasional bandit camp.

Stampeding footsteps echo through the hillside as a single file line of charging Orcs crunch along the fall hued path, the ground looking like it was glazed in honey from the fallen leaves.

Hours have passed under the hot sun, they now come up on their second night in flight, and their burden grows heavy, and energy levels low. 8 fully armed Orcs, 3 of which carrying a bound prisoner upon their back. 2 more carry sacks of merchandise and money. Another bearing food, another bearing camping supplies, the leader marching at the front, and a smaller, much thinner and dirtier orc trailing behind, stopping to listen to the ground, sniff the air as the breeze bears scents of those in pursuit. The band marches on.

As the sun levels with the world, and the amber hue shone over the coast, the Orcs come to a halt. "Shagrok" the one in the back calls. "Shagrok, slow it down. They aint been on our trail since last night, there's no need to keep up this speed, we cant go another day" he calls out. Turning to face the one in the back, Shagrok yells back "Ugruk, if you dont quiet your tongue I'll cut it out"

Other voices murmer and pitch in while staying in formation. "Im starving" another adding "we've been running since last night, we need a breather". Shagrok grunts, looking over his withering men. "We aint had nothing to eat since Noon yesterday, lets have some meat" a voice yells. Shagrok growls again before staking his sword into the ground. "We set up camp, but at dawn we run. The Master is not a patient man. One more day ahead of us, then we will have rest..and reward" Shagrok barks before finding a stump to sit on while his men set up camp and light a fire. Hitching the prisoners to trees, guarding them uncomfortably closely.


As the stars filled the sky, and the sweaty armor clad orcs finally undressed and set their weapons aside, meat and bread was passed around. Yet still there was unrest, each one taking their time staring and taunting the prisoners. Each beautiful, each appetizing to the hungry Orcs. Especially the two elven sisters. "How did we end up as errand boys, what happened to Orc Pride, look at us, boys" Grikgash says standing up.

"Would you like to go back to the pits? Would you like to go back to the mines? Do you remember the lashes, the burning iron, do you remember the screams? I do. I was there, we all were. We were at the bitter-most end of mankind, and the Master saved us. Gave us purpose again, the Master gave us names that we had forgotten belonged to us in a time where we belonged to Man" Shagrok recalls gazing into the campfire, silencing Grikgash.

"Why dont we just go somewhere else, get away from all this. Return home.." Ugruk says

"We cannot return home, you know this. You all know this" The red-hued, black haired Shagrok says. "There is no where that we can run where we'll be safe. Where we'll be welcome. The Master has plans for us, for our people" Shagrok continues

"The Master is one of THEM, he cannot be trusted. I say we kill him. They did this to us. His kind. They stripped us from our homes, from our families, they took our lives, now we take theirs" Grikgash says

"The Master has the ship that will carry us home, but we cannot get to it without a ship, and no city will permit us entry, if we hijack we wont make it to shore. The Master is the only one who understands us, who helps us" Shagrok defends

"Its been 6 month, this is the second raid in Parapa alone. Before that we spent 2 months in Ravenfell, that damn desert. And the month in jungles to the south. How long must we search? What are we even looking for? Each prisoner so far has gotten us farther from home" Grikgash replies

"Then lets be hasty about turning this batch in, and see if this time we found her" Shagrok finishes before finding a slab of meat for himself.


Several Orcs began making their rounds near the women, their slimy paws reaching out to clasp the slender cheeks, brushing their silky hair, such barbaric creatures have not know civility in decades, nor the touch of a woman. They touched, they harrassed, but as Shagrok approached they dispersed. The head of the tribe always gets first pick at the plunder. He walks slowly up and down, shirtless, letting his long black hair rest on his muscular chest. The red-hued, yellow-eyed Orc Clan Leader marches towards the girls. Eyeing each down slowly. "Names. Now" he orders

 

[Penin]

Peninwe and her elder sister Illaria had spent the whole day previous to the attack preparing for the summer fruits festival, a day that was supposed to be full of fun and game, dancing and music, to pray for a calm summer and a bountiful harvest at the end of it, but the only thing that they could remember of it at this point, what was seared into their minds was the screams of the village people and the wet gurgle of blood being spilled from their friends and families bodies.

Illaria’s cheeks were swollen and stained with her tears, her green eyes almost bloodshot, having completey lost that elven sparkle that made her a most coveted ellibgible bride in the small village town she called home. Her long wavy blonde hair was tangled, strands hanging in her face. The look of defeat on her face as she was poked and prodded by the orc beasts that jittered around her.

Peninwe was tied up beside her. She had been furiously attempting to free herself, already causing some rope burns on her soft pale skin, writhing her pin straight locks had grown greasy from the travels, her cheeks too were stained with tears and dirt. Speckles of blood created a constellation of freckles that made her naive youthful face look somewhat sinister, her eyes still glowing with determination to save her and her sister. She would bite and snarl at any of the orca that would get too close, sometimes leaving her with a rough smack to the face, or a tug of her pretty hair.

“It’s no use…we are doomed”
Illaria mumbled as Penin tried over and over to wriggle her wrists free.
“We are going to see mother and father soon anyways, the sooner the better.”
She said, turning her head to look at her sister.
“Don’t talk like that sister…we will get out of this somehow…and we will run and run and run until we reach the edge of the earth.”
Hope in her voice.

The girls felt the earth beneath them start to tremor, the lesser orcs leaving them, both looking up at the tall monster of a man that stood before them, peering down on their puny bodies. Illaria looked up at the beast, letting out a little whimper as her body lost all control and she fell weak against the tree trunk.
“Penin and my sister Illaria”
Penin growled back, hoping to distract him from her weakling of a sibling, maybe it would make her seem like more of a candidate and give her a chance to free them
“And you? Foul beast, what is the name that they will write about in ballads when I rip your eyeballs out with my teeth.”

 

[Promethean]

He walked slowly past each, making sure to gaze deeply as he made his selection. Stopping at Penin before kneeling in front of her. "Fear. I can smell it on you. Not very long ago, we were not much different from man. We were people too. Shagrok is my name, girl" he says reaching out and letting his finger tips trace along her cheekbones, down to her chin before retracting his hand.

"We had homes, families, arts, music, we had lives like the rest of the kingdoms. But the elves, they came, using the Empire they waged a war on us our refuge in was sacked, clans scattered and slaughtered. No communication, no unity, no hope. We lost everything. And after Man turned on the Elves, sending them back to their island, we remained hunted. Without reason to pursue, Man chose to hunt us even without the Elves hatred of our kind. Orcs are not entirely different, so why should we be hunted?" Shagrok asks before extending his palm to rub the girl's shoulder.

"Pretty dress. Very pretty" he says eyeing it over again

"We are the fighting Orc, we fought through the pit, we fought through the lashes and burning coals, and now we fight to go home. We do not want to fight you, you mean nothing to us, The Master has other plans for all of you. As for us, our plans for you are right here, right now" Shagrok says grinning while the other orcs line up behind him

"Take this off, it will be easier if you cooperate, i wouldnt want to transport you across these woods in naught but your skin after tearing your dress off of you. Take it off, now" he says to the snarls and excited howls of his men.

The softness of her shoulders as he slid his palms over them, gently cupping before his fingers wrap around her bicep and pull her closer. Keeping her head against his chest for but a moment before throwing her over her shoulder and returning to the other side of the fire. There her wrists are bound with about 4 ft slack between her and the mighty tree she was bound to. His hands guided her to the ground, kneeling over her he smiles as his hands grasped her breasts. While not as big as Orc women, they were incredibly perky and that was a rare treat for his people.

His palms clamp around both breast, thumb and index finger pinching and lightly tugging on each pointed nipple in a rhythmic motion before roughly turning her over, pulling her body over his knee and taking one hand to both her ass cheeks. His other hand grips the back of her neck as his other strikes her repeatedly, each cheek turning a shade of red. While not as big as orc women's butts, hers were incredibly shapely and proportionate.

The other orcs gathered around, howling, snarling, as Shagrok parted her buns slowly before diving his face between them and inhaling her scent. Pulling away, he drops her on the ground again before standing over her and removing his own clothing, letting a 10 inch piece of thick red meat bounce freely above her. A slick rope of precum already swinging in excitement. He leans down and grabs her by her throat, guiding her head to his shaft before pressing himself in without warning.

Inch by inch he forces himself deeper and deeper until her saliva catches up and lubricates his length. Holding her head still by her hair, he thrusts himself in and out slowly, making sure each inch presses against her throat as he fucks her pretty face harder, and harder, until her gagging turns her a pretty shade of blue.

Releasing her, he kneels down, grabbing onto her hips he flattens her on her back, letting her slender legs hand freely as his swollen tip grazes the entrance of her tight hole. With another growl he forces himself in. Not slowly, not gently, full force..in and out, tearing his way inside of her as his massive cock stretches her surprisingly moist pussy.

His entrance, his conquest, sends a roar of excitement through the other orcs before they rush off. Each putting their hands on the other prisoners. Clothes flying off, chains rattling. Both of the girls being fucked by 2-4 orcs at a time, yet none screamed, none let the horror take them over. Its as if they had submitted, as if they had accepted their fate. Some even found pleasure being ravaged, like a fantasy unlocked.

Shagrok fucked harder, his apple-sized ball sack slapping against the poor girl with enough force to leave them bruised. His veiny fuck stick glistening in her sweet pussy juice as he rams in and out, the sight of all but his tip leaving her body and Sinking back in only making harder. An hour passed and his ravaging hadn't stopped. Only now she was on her shaking knees, feeling the knots in her stomach get fucked loose as he plunges himself into her

 

[Penin]

Penin moved her face as she felt the orcs thick digit slide down her cheek. Her bottom lip trembling a little as he spoke down to her. The bass in his voice reverberating through her rib cage.

“But do we look like those people who wronged you? Us simple folk just trying to survive through the winters”
She tried to keep her anger and upset contained, but it was making her voice waver.
“Did my grandpapa look like a rich diplomat pointing the finger at your lands on the map of war?”
She sobbed.

By the time he had finished his speech she was sniffling, embarrassed to release her emotions like this infront of her foe. She wriggled in her confines as his rough hand dragged along her tan skin. Yelping as he quickly cut her free from the ropes that bound her to the tree and throw her over his shoulder, she kicked and squirme, but his grasp was iron around her, his fingers digging into her ribs harder with each weak kick and punch she gave at the air until she was winded.

Tied back up she was knelt before him,
“Please don’t do this to us…we are just girls…”
She flinched as his hand cupped her large breast.
“just let us leave and try rebuild what we can..”
His fingers toying with her nipples she closed her eyes tightly as jolts of electrical pleasure rippled through her body. Her words seemed to have little effect on the brute, she cried out as he threw her over his leg and spanked her perfectly round cheeks.

Her sister’s eyes shut tightly, shaking her head to try not focus on the sound of her sisters assault.

Peninwe grasped at his hands as he lifted her up. Choked of air she squealed and cried he guiding her face towards his huge throbbing cock, looking at the swollen mushroom tip she whimpered as he slid it between her lips, prying her mouth open his cock hit the back of her throat over and over again, sliding down her neck, tears streaming from her eyes as her saliva drooled out from her lips. After this initial onslaught she was quickly mounted by the orc. Her hands shaking as she pressed them against his stomach, looking up at him in terror as he rubbed himself on her clit before ramming all the way inside of her.
“Gods please! No more!”
She cried out, his veiny shaft stretching her out wide. Her mind going numb, body slack with lack of will to live.

 

[Promethean]

Arrows whirled, striking down multiple targets. Blades whoosh in the night, felling unaware foes. By the time all swords were unsheathed, the battle was already won. From the tree above, arrows rain down upon a caravan. Below rushes in a black skinned warrior, clad in dwarven plating, wielding curved swords heavy and sharp. His blades reflect moonlight as they whoosh in the dark, striking down the guards scrambling to draw their swords before they're cut down.

By the time alarms were raised and the caravan was armed and ready to fight, Vasaati the archer had already dropped 6, and the warrior another 8. As the remaining guards formed a line ahead of the warrior their focus is taken by the battle cry of an axe wielding northerner behind them, and beside him an Burned man licking his lips.

With their focus split, and moral shaken, the guards were unaware of another blade dash right through the line from the side. An ancient longsword cutting through the guards like a hot knife through butter, their blood staining the grass as their corpses feed the maggots and buzzards. Both sides rush in and the defensive line was no more. The tents in the camp were torn open, and the unarmed folk within were corralled towards the central bonfire.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this...is a robbery" a voice calls out, heavy footsteps approaching as the heavy armored Northerner approaches, setting his blood soaked axe into the dirt below before removing his horned helmet, revealing the face of an older chap with a thick black mustache, and salt n pepper shaded beard braided only so slightly.

"Now we don't want to hurt any of you, but we will" he says wiping his boots on one of the corpses. "What do we have here...artists huh. Either that or thieves. These are some nice paintings" he says looting through a wagon. "Im not much of an art connoisseur myself. I prefer literature to these expensive pictures"

Looking over the gathered crowd, admiring the fear in their eyes, he chuckles.

"Vasaati, dear. Fetch food and drink, im sure they have some fine wine around here. Dharmuul, unload the crap from one of those wagons and get it loaded with some practical supplies. Regos, empty their pockets. I want gold, silver, copper, whatever they got. Boy, get the horses ready for that wagon" he dishes orders to his crew.

"Good, good, keep it coming, people. Dont hold out on me, that makes me angry. I dont like having to get all unpolite. Dont you go worrying about your friends here, burying them aint worth the effort. We saw some Minotaur tracks less than a mile out, a tribe of em. Im sure they'll catch the scent and come hungry. You best pack up and leave by dawn. Now im not sure how long the road has been for you, and im not sure how long the road is yet. But for right now, get yourselves warm and get some sleep. Lets ride, now, come on. Good luck to you, fine people" he calls out putting his helmet back on and grabbing his axe.

The road wasnt much farther for them until they heard screams and snarling coming from the treeline. Hiding the wagon, they leave Regos, the burned man to defend their loot while the rest gear up and hunt

From the tree line, Vasaati uses her Elven vision to gaze more clearly over the scene unfolding...

The whirling began, arrows raining down striking multiple orcs before Dharmuul, the warrior, rushes in, dismembering more, Jorannus, the northerner, and his axe cleave another. Lastly the youngest of the crew rushes in with his black sword, white runes glowing as blood soaks his blade. Swiftly striking down the last two orcs. What had killed the chieftain was unclear. It may have been the two arrows through his heart. Or the sword that had slit his throat, or even the loss of both his legs from a sharp axe. Whatever had killed him, made sure to shower the girls beside him in blood. And not a second before the elf girls received loads of hot and fertile orc cum painting their insides in his nasty spunk.

The outlaws gather the girls around, letting them warm themselves by the fire. Kneeling down and removing his helmet, Jorannus offers a towel to the girls before looking them in their eyes.

"Hello, ladies. Quite the predicament you found yourselves in. Not to worry, you're safe now. What are your names?"

 

[Penin]

The assault seemed to be as quick to end as it started. Peninwe and Illaria were too stunned to really register what was happening, their naked bodies huddling together, shivering in the cold, adrenaline being the only thing that was keeping their hearts beating, the warm red spray of blood splashing on their glossy moonlight pale skin left Illaria staring wide eyed at the dead orc chief who had been defiling them only moments previously. The two girls looked almost feral, their feet muddy black, thighs covered in fresh bruises and cuts from over eager orc hands.
"Are we alive?"
The elder sister said weakly, sitting up on her knees she held onto her sister face, smearing the crimsom blood across her plump young cheeks.
"I..I think we're alive"
She reassured herself. Both of the elf girls looking up at the man as he walked towards them, tall and rather forboding, Illaria caught the towel, covering herself as best she could. Penin couldnt contain her emotions, her eyes streaming tears as she sobbed loudly, scrambling towards the larger man she hugged her body close to him, her hands though small she gripped onto him with a vice tight hold, her naked body shuddering with her heaved cries. Snot and drool streaming down her pretty face.

 

[Promethean]

Dharmuul and Neithan gathered the bodies and threw them into the fire, knowing Minotaurs would be nearby and they did not care to attract such predator with the scent of blood. Vasaati helped clean off the women while Jorannus spoke.

"Our camp is another hour away. But the nearest town is nearly a day's ride. You're welcome to come with us, we have food and shelter. And in a few days we'll gladly ride you back into town, lovelies. I'm Jorannus, and my friends and I are mere travelers. We've come down from the North, and are having a leisure period here in the Gilded Coast before we make our way down to lowlands, we heard of some work down that way" standing up, he extends a hand to the ladies, helping them up

"Come, we have a wagon just beyond those trees. There are a few blankets in there to cover yourselves up with" as the party makes their way through the treeline, they find Regos awaiting at the wagon, keeping the hitched horses calm as the smell of burning orc makes them uneasy.

As they approach, Regos gives Penin a blanket whilist licking his lips with his slithering tongue. Jorannus turns again to speak. "Now. Our wagon is decently stocked, so you'll have to excuse the poor accommodations. Ladies, you go ahead in there. Meet Dharmuul, our strongest arm, Please, make yourselves at home inside the wagon" he says giving directions before the company departs

Leading the party is the wagon, being steered by Regos who keeps his tongue to himself as the boss sits beside him. Jorannus contemplates their next move, this certainly complicates things, but also provides opportunities. Beside him rides Vasaati, his second in command trotting along on her all white horse. Often, in times of concern, Jorannus will consult Vasaati on their next move. Regos steers the wagon, Jorannus thinks, Vasatti rides alongside the wagon offering input and validation.

Behind them, taking up the rear is Neithan. As usual, he rides in the back. Being the newest member, and the youngest, he gets the short end of the stick. Inside the wagon, most of their plunder is secured in crates, pushed to the back to balance out the weight as Dharmuul sits in the center seat on the other side of the thin wall separating him from Regos and Jorannus riding atop. Being the chief warrior of the party, Dharmuul, former gladiator, his skin bearing many marks and scars from his triumphs, often gets the biggest reward. And his reward this time...sat beside him.

"What are your names? I've not seen such beauty in a few weeks. Well met, my lady. Especially ones so beautiful. Are you betrothed? Once I was, now I am not. Now I fight, victory is all I know now" his speech is broken, short, wasting no words, but providing no detail. His voice is deep, and his gaze is intense

"A pleasure to meet you, ladies. You are all stars in my eyes, perhaps we can...better acquaint ourselves" he says undoing his chest plate. Casting it aside, the candle light shining dim light on his dark skin. Muscles rippling, scars telling many stories.

"I just don't understand, we're theives, not..not this. We dont save people, ransom maybe, but we're not knights in shining armor" whispers a displeased Vasaati as she rides alongside the wagon. Jorannus hearing her out.

"I know, but we couldn't just leave them there. They have some value to us yet" he begins to formulate his thought.

"We're not welcome in town, so how do you expect to deliver them, or sell them for that matter?" She asks

"Not here, but if we can get to another coast, perhaps we can find a ship to take us to some lowly city, I've some connections in Gideon. Might be able to sell them there, but at least they'll keep the big guy happy on the road" jorannus speaks quietly to Vasaati.

" We're professionals" she notes sternly.

"Old professionals, i get older by the day, yet age has not touched you a day since we met. For many years you've lived in the world of men" he recalls

"Age has not touched me in 200 years, yet that doesnt mean i do not feel it so" she says looking at her friend of several decades. Knowing she will likely outlive him, just as she has most of her friends and family.

 

[Penin]

Penin hugged onto the man tightly as he stood up, holding out his hand to her sister, Illaria was not so quick to trust the stranger. Her little sister's naivity was showing, but he did just save them and they really had nothing left. She reached up to take the mans hand, follwing him to the caravan she looked around at all of the strangers, feeling uncomfortable about the situation at hand, she couldnt put a finger on it however. Penin hopped out of Joran's arms. Taking the towel she also wiped her body as best she could muck and grime. The orc blood had dried a littke, leaving ber splotchy red. Smiling sweetly up at the tall man.
"Thank you sir."
she said as she wrapped her petite body up with the towel, her sister doing the same, Illaria noticed the look of hunger in the mans eyes and she shifted her balance, looking back over her shoulder, her eyes met with Neithan's, he seemed like an outlier within the group, maybe his actions could paint a clearer picture for her, but he quickly looked away from the beautiful elf woman.
"Penin... Sit close to me please."
she said, it was only a day journey, if they didnt provoke this brigand maybe they could sneak away in the night if anything awful was to happen.
Illaria took her younger sister by the shoulder, overprotective of her as a front for how utterly pathetic she was when the orcs attacked. How coukd she give up like that, not only for herself but she gave up on her family also.

They climbed into the cart, a tight squeeze either side of the huge brute of a man. Illaria sat quiet, trying to seperate herself from touching him at all times. Penin was much too relaxed, the blanket she wrapped herself with was loose and teasing, smiling up at her saviour.

"I'm Peninwe, this is my sister Illaria."
the small elf said, blushing a little at the mans smooth words. she looked down at feet, crossing her grubby little toes as she held her hands togther in her lap, her golden hair tangled and hung flat around her pretty face.
"What's yours?"
she said, looking up at him again before she noticed his hands pulling at his chest plate until he was topless. Illaria looked at the mans rippling chest, covered in a soft blanket of hair and deep scars that made him look almost un human.
"I...I dont think we are in any sort of shape or form to..to do this right now."
Illaria said quickly, praying to the gods and all that was holy or unholy that they didnt end up in the same story as before.

 

[Promethean]

Branches crack beneath them as they press into the brush, the thickets of trees proving difficult for the carriage as the passengers jostle. Vasaati and Jorannus dismount ahead of the slowing wagon before pulling aside a makeshift fence comprised of twigs, moss, and sharp branches. Behind was a clear path leading a few feet down into what was more or less a ditch. About 4 feet deep their camp was dug in. On the ground level above the campsite was layered grasses knee-height which concealed many spiked branches, a defensive perimeter set up by Regos. While not entirely secure, this gave them a mild base protection against wanderers in the dark, more likely to trip and impale themselves than rob the party. The dirt road the had smoothed leading in and out of their camp was just wide enough for their own wagons, as they pull inside. Finally, coming to a rest.

"Everyone, everyone. We're safe now. Get yourselves warm, get yourselves rested. We're safe" Jorannus announces to everyone.

"Dharmuul, get a fire going. Regos, check your nets for food, some warm boar would do us all good. Vasaati, show these ladies to a warm bath. Boy, get a shelter up for these ladies and some clothing. Vasaati, I'll see you in my tent once we're settled and cleaned up" Jorannus addresses as cheerfully as a battle hardened northman mildly tainted in blood can.

Beside the fire were a series of stumps for sitting. In the back was a large tent the size of some sheds. All white, no tears, or stains. This was Jorannus's tent. Where he spends much time contemplating their next move. Positioned to the left of his was Vasaati's tent which was little more than a teepee, filled with mostly arrows and extra clothes. She spent most of her nights in Jorannus' tent. To the right of Jorannus was Dharmuul's tent, a red cloth exterior leading to a dark interior hiding a bedroll on the floor besides his trunk of belongings. From the very center you could walk 4 feet either forwards, backwards, left, or right before touching the wall in this circular tent. To the right of his were two Wagons parked side by side. The wagon on the left had a cloth sheet attached to two branches as poles which held the cloth over a bed of grassy dirt, providing some cover over the bedroll where Neithan sleeps beside his chest of belongings. No tent, just a cloth hoisted 4 feet above the ground just long enough to cover most of his body. To the right of him, Regos sleeps inside their emptied tent-carrying wagon. To the left of Vasaati and across from Regos is where they lined up a hitching post for their horses. A few buckets of water positioned beside them for drinking.

Dharmuul strikes his flint, embers flying as the muscular dark-skinned warrior aparks a fire. Neithan struggles with a hammer and a few nails, some of which were crooked, as he stakes a 7ft plank of wood into the ground and nails a few 2ft long branches into the top before throwing a large cloth over it. On the back end of the cloth, he ties carefully a steak into the ground to support the fabric, and another on the left side, and another on the right. The tent isnt very big, nor much of a tent at all. But it was shelter, and it was more shelter than Jorannus allotted Neithan himself. The tent was 7ft tall with just enough slack to allow for 5 or 6 bodies to huddle under. Neithan searches through Regos' wagon for extra camping supplies. But finds nothing of use except for 2 rugs rolled up, they provide no more comfort than dirt when it comes to sleeping, but they're warmer than laying on the ground. Laying them around the center plank, Neithan lights a single candle for light, hopefully warming the tent while they bathe.

Nearly 5 mins behind the camp was a small pond, if one had the energy to move the fence and traverse the condensed brush surrounding camp leading to the pond. There, thanks to the craftiness of Regos, a porcelain tub about 5ft long, 2ft wide, 3 feet deep was placed carefully over two semi level stones with just enough space between them for dry wood. Once lit, the small fire would warm the porcelain tub, allowing one a rather refreshing bath. If they dared the risk of eyes in the dark looking in on such a private moment. There, stands Vasaati. The elven warrior who strikes a small flint under the tub, allowing the water to warm as she begins pouring in a few buckets. "One at a time, this isnt iron, very fragile. Be careful not to tip, nor keep the fire lit for too long, the basin might crack. Im going to go back to camp and gather clothes for you all, we've plenty of...souvenirs" the elf snickers with a Cheshire grin before leaving the two other elf women alone to bathe in some mild degree of comfort.

In what might have been half an hour later, a slab of Boar sizzled over the fire, fatty grease making the flames reach higher as Regos flips the hunk of ham before dressing the other side with his home-blended seasoning. Beside him sits Vasaati, returning from the pond. Leaving the newcomers there to bathe amongst themselves. Neithan taking a seat beside her, warming his hands over the fire. Dharmuul stands across from them, carefully watching Regos techniques. When Jorannus finally emerges and gathers with the rest, he's changed into an all black outfit with thick fabric, similar to a monk's robes. He greets the party before taking his usual seat. "Now, where are our guests?" Jorannus asks inquisitively already having a clue to the answer. "Cleaning themselves, as you requested" the Elf speaks up.

"Boy, go and make sure the ladies havent drowned. Dinner will be ready soon and im ready to pop open this wine" Jorannus says running his hand through his salt n pepper colored beard. "As you wish" Neithan says before standing and unequipping his armor, unclothing down to his black pants and a long sleeved red shirt. He leaves his weapons, save for his enchanted sword sheathed in his hands. Dipping a torch into the fire, he makes his way out and around camp, careful not to step on anything as he approaches the pond. He can hear their voices, he can hear their laughter. At least they're finding some comfort already amongst themselves. As he gets closer, he stops, his own curiosity telling him to quiet down and peer through the bushes, but...he cannot. "Mi Lady, excuse me" He calls out. "Ladies, excuse me. I've come to announce that dinner is ready, if you would like to join us. P-please, follow me" He says before standing semi visibly allowing them time to dry, and cover themselves with two fresh blankets, until they can acquire their new clothes from their tent.

Just as the Boar is sliced and divided, the torch light approaches as Neithan leads the ladies back to camp before recovering up the entrance of their camp and finding his seat taken by Regos.

"Ladies, please, sit. Get warm, get some food in you. Our lad here has prepared a tent for you all, there should be some clothes in there too. We'll eat, relax, and have a good nice long rest. Tomorrow, we'll figure things out" Jorannus greets warmly with his deep, but charming voice. "Regos, get these girls some dinner. Vasaati, darlin. Poor these ladies some of this, take the edge off..." He says with a chuckle.

"Peninwe is a beautiful name, what does it mean?" Neithan asks inquisitively

"Good question, boy. And from where do you ladies hail? Which elven realm do you have to call home?" Jorannus takes over the conversation.