Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)It is a tradition of her people, to have a servant to escort the dead one on his way to the after life; another way to say a slave would be burned with the master during the cremation. Of course they would ask for a volunteer and would choose one if no one come up. Normally they would have to choose, but this time she volunteers herself.
She was officially a maid of the village chief's family, and unofficially she was the whore of the whole village. She sleeps with many men to get what she wants: money, and power. Even though she's just a maid, others would avoid to mess up with her except for those who want to get in her pants. She slept with the chief, no doubt. But she's secretly in love with his third son. He is one of those rare people treat her like a human, even though she knows very well he would never fall for his father's slut . His dream girl must be pure as snow and innocent as a lamb.
If a servant is to die with the master, the master's close relative such as children and wife would come and embrace the poor servant to thank them. And that is the only reason she volunteers: to be in the arms of the man she loves, even just for a short moment.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately that man, the third son of the chief is against those out-dated customs. Killing a person just for another person's funeral makes no sense in his opinion. He frees her and hides her in the near by forest, waiting for nightfall to help her escape. When the time comes, they discover an army of the enemy village. They try to warn their people but it's too late, and as the enemy is searching for the chief's family, he has to run too.
That's the basic idea, other details would be discussed. But I'm searching for a world before the Roman empire, I think it's the Celtic civilization, a setting that is familiar with the one in the Red Riding Hood (2011 film). And mainly, I'm looking to play a complicated girl. She has her reason to open her legs for every body, and not proud of it like the way she acts.
She was officially a maid of the village chief's family, and unofficially she was the whore of the whole village. She sleeps with many men to get what she wants: money, and power. Even though she's just a maid, others would avoid to mess up with her except for those who want to get in her pants. She slept with the chief, no doubt. But she's secretly in love with his third son. He is one of those rare people treat her like a human, even though she knows very well he would never fall for his father's slut . His dream girl must be pure as snow and innocent as a lamb.
If a servant is to die with the master, the master's close relative such as children and wife would come and embrace the poor servant to thank them. And that is the only reason she volunteers: to be in the arms of the man she loves, even just for a short moment.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately that man, the third son of the chief is against those out-dated customs. Killing a person just for another person's funeral makes no sense in his opinion. He frees her and hides her in the near by forest, waiting for nightfall to help her escape. When the time comes, they discover an army of the enemy village. They try to warn their people but it's too late, and as the enemy is searching for the chief's family, he has to run too.
That's the basic idea, other details would be discussed. But I'm searching for a world before the Roman empire, I think it's the Celtic civilization, a setting that is familiar with the one in the Red Riding Hood (2011 film). And mainly, I'm looking to play a complicated girl. She has her reason to open her legs for every body, and not proud of it like the way she acts.
From a very young age the children of the town were taught to
never ventured to the upstream of the river, it was the place for
the death.. It was within this very spot, somewhere deep into
the heart of it, laid a small but steady house. The simple
townsfolk called it 'the waiting room', it was the place for the
sacrificed, an unfortunate person would soon travel to the after
world with his or her master.
It had become almost tradition that with every rich or powerful
person's death, they would gather offerings, a virgin poor
servant to send along. No one remembered who had built up
the rule about a sacrificed, that the servant would serve their
master for eternity, they just simply followed it. A servant, was
simply just a slave with freedom. The only thing distinguish
them from slaves was that they were allowed to leave if they
want to. But no one ever had. They all needed a shelter and
food. Earlier this month, the village chief had died after a years
suffering with pain and sickness. Some said he had reached
his time, some said he had worn himself out with all the young
women he shared his bed with.
She was one of his women. And he in fact was also just one of
her men. People either looked at her with disgust or licked
their lips hungrily staring at her boobs. It was not a secret that
she sold her body for anyone who can paid her price. Ellyn the
Whore, that was what they called her. It was a pity, though,
since the young girl possessed a unique beauty.
The first thing a stranger would notice probably was her
unusual long ginger hair. She would be a real life Rapunzel
only if the hair were blonde. Her eyes were blue, topaz blue,
made great contract with the color of her hair and would catch
one's attention when looking at her. And now those eyes were
staring at the ground, as she was waiting for her destiny. Her
wrists and ankles tied together, preventing her escape. As if
she would run! She had volunteered herself, been willingly to
die with the chief. Not that she loved him, of course she didn't.
How could she love that hairy man with a huge belly that nearly
obscured his cock? She had often fought to breathe as she
labored beneath the crude, smelly old man. But, he thought he
was the lord's gift.
To speak ill about the death would send her to hell, but wasn't
she in hell already? People looked down on her like she was a
piece of shit on the streets that they would avoid to step on. If
they didn't spit in front of her face, they would grab her breast
or squeeze her ass. She was the whore, wasn't she? The one
that women would be glad to throw rocks at her as she steal
their husband. The one that young girls would giggle and
whisper every time she passed by as she slept with the men
they disgusted. And the one that would never be able to win his
heart.
He was the third son of the chief, one of those decent
gentlemen that wouldn't come near a prostitute. But never had
he made her feel cheap and unwanted. Ellyn felt her eyes well
up with tears. Despite his warming smile, despite all the
kindness he had showed her, despite this painful feeling she
had been hiding, she knew he would soon marry a young
educated woman from a wealthy family. She would never be
an option if he searched for a wife. She had heard somewhere,
that there were only two kind of love: the love of joy and the
love of agony. Hers must belong to the second type for every
time she saw him, her heart clenched. Why on earth that she
loved him? Why on earth that she loved anyone? Perhaps it
was one of the reasons she wanted to die, to get away from
this world.
And the other reason was to have his arms around her, in the
mourning hug each member of the chief's family would give to
her at the funeral. She leaned back against the wall, imagine
how his warm and scent would surround her, enclosing her,
before the heat of the fire took her away.
She sat there in silence, eyes closed, head bowed, body
relaxed. It was in those moments when she finally accepted
her fate.
never ventured to the upstream of the river, it was the place for
the death.. It was within this very spot, somewhere deep into
the heart of it, laid a small but steady house. The simple
townsfolk called it 'the waiting room', it was the place for the
sacrificed, an unfortunate person would soon travel to the after
world with his or her master.
It had become almost tradition that with every rich or powerful
person's death, they would gather offerings, a virgin poor
servant to send along. No one remembered who had built up
the rule about a sacrificed, that the servant would serve their
master for eternity, they just simply followed it. A servant, was
simply just a slave with freedom. The only thing distinguish
them from slaves was that they were allowed to leave if they
want to. But no one ever had. They all needed a shelter and
food. Earlier this month, the village chief had died after a years
suffering with pain and sickness. Some said he had reached
his time, some said he had worn himself out with all the young
women he shared his bed with.
She was one of his women. And he in fact was also just one of
her men. People either looked at her with disgust or licked
their lips hungrily staring at her boobs. It was not a secret that
she sold her body for anyone who can paid her price. Ellyn the
Whore, that was what they called her. It was a pity, though,
since the young girl possessed a unique beauty.
The first thing a stranger would notice probably was her
unusual long ginger hair. She would be a real life Rapunzel
only if the hair were blonde. Her eyes were blue, topaz blue,
made great contract with the color of her hair and would catch
one's attention when looking at her. And now those eyes were
staring at the ground, as she was waiting for her destiny. Her
wrists and ankles tied together, preventing her escape. As if
she would run! She had volunteered herself, been willingly to
die with the chief. Not that she loved him, of course she didn't.
How could she love that hairy man with a huge belly that nearly
obscured his cock? She had often fought to breathe as she
labored beneath the crude, smelly old man. But, he thought he
was the lord's gift.
To speak ill about the death would send her to hell, but wasn't
she in hell already? People looked down on her like she was a
piece of shit on the streets that they would avoid to step on. If
they didn't spit in front of her face, they would grab her breast
or squeeze her ass. She was the whore, wasn't she? The one
that women would be glad to throw rocks at her as she steal
their husband. The one that young girls would giggle and
whisper every time she passed by as she slept with the men
they disgusted. And the one that would never be able to win his
heart.
He was the third son of the chief, one of those decent
gentlemen that wouldn't come near a prostitute. But never had
he made her feel cheap and unwanted. Ellyn felt her eyes well
up with tears. Despite his warming smile, despite all the
kindness he had showed her, despite this painful feeling she
had been hiding, she knew he would soon marry a young
educated woman from a wealthy family. She would never be
an option if he searched for a wife. She had heard somewhere,
that there were only two kind of love: the love of joy and the
love of agony. Hers must belong to the second type for every
time she saw him, her heart clenched. Why on earth that she
loved him? Why on earth that she loved anyone? Perhaps it
was one of the reasons she wanted to die, to get away from
this world.
And the other reason was to have his arms around her, in the
mourning hug each member of the chief's family would give to
her at the funeral. She leaned back against the wall, imagine
how his warm and scent would surround her, enclosing her,
before the heat of the fire took her away.
She sat there in silence, eyes closed, head bowed, body
relaxed. It was in those moments when she finally accepted
her fate.