Two Night Errants and a familiar travel East.
They are hunting a King of Beasts and being hunted by a Queen of Thorns.
They are not particularly nice.
-Expository fragment of the Malaveve prophecies
Sephora's view of the camp was obscured by darkness. Stygian trees that resembled a hag's twisting claws concealed a crescent moon. A fire pit residing in the center cast flickering rays too far and too dim to reach the outer rim where she and the other prisoners resided, along with the plundered goods, warg mounts, and Sylvyn-bitches.
Sephora wished she was a cat or at least had some cat's eyes, an easy enough mutation if she had the infernal energy available and the use of her hands and mouth. The orgren, recognizing that she wasn't like the other peasant girls who had been careful and made sure to put her in stocks.
By the light of the distant campfire, Sephora could see two piglike eyes and a hulking form made broader by shadows pass through the slave pens. The other prisoners whimpered as it ignored them.
A ladle rattled in a slop bucket. Some nearby wargs whined and lifted their heads. The sylvyn-bitches eagerly crawled over to the figure who began to haphazardly pour the contents of the bucket into bowls scattered on the ground.
In the distant, Sephora could hear the other orgrens braying and drinking around the fire. Occasionally, a high-pitched scream or a low moan would come from one of the village girls chosen to be lightly used previous to sale, or sylvyn pets the orgren had brought with them.
Once the orgren was finished with his chores, He reached down to grab a large stone ring linked to one of the camp sylvyns by a long braid. Using the ring, he dragged the whining girl over to a nearby stump. He clipped a leather band to her collar and attached it to a peg. Kicking aside some of the other bitches who followed begging, he sat in front of her and pulled out his cock. Her long bladed ear twitched in eagerness as fixated on his cock.
Sephora watched the sylvyn-bitch eagerly swallow orgren cock. The pilum-width cock looked like it might break the poor sylvyn's jaw as it pushed its way past and pummeled her throat. Sephora could tell from the whimpers of the other captives near her that they were watching as well. This was going to be their fate soon, impaled by orgren cock. Orgren cock could break the mind of most any sentient species; pointy-eared sylvyns, sexually weak, were usually the first to be mind broken, but humans and infernals would fall too.
Clearly struggling with the choke chain and stake pinning her down, The bitch was arching her neck to better get under the orgren's legs and suck his balls in her mouth. Her cheeks were stuffed like chipmunks as she sucked on his ballsack. Her eyes gleamed with the hunger you'd normally see in a starving animal unashamed to debase itself. At one time, she was a proud warrior with a vast cultural heritage at her disposal. Now she was an animal, mind blank and drooling for orgren cock. The orgren cock lay across her forehead, covering half her face. Pre-cum drooled down her leashed hair and pointy ears.
The orgren reached down to where her hair was tied into one thick braid entwined with a stone ring at the end and pulled her up on her haunches until the choke chain went taut. She whined, like a bitch in heat, trying to lap at a strand of saliva that hung from his cock and connected to her wet face. He readjusted then thrust himself down her throat. Her throat expanded to make room for his girth. The sylvyn-bitch compliantly dropped what she now thought of as her paws, hung there, and submitted to her throat fucking, her eyes floating to the back of her head.
The orgren held her head in his giant hands and violently used her throat while oblivious to her body shaking beneath him.
The captive girls looked on in terror. It was dark but Sephora could see their bright eyes in the darkness and hear the whimpers and moans; She understood. She was wet herself. Orgren were created by Bio-alchemists, bred as a slave race designed for the management of civil unrest, sold to mercenaries firms, and used to quell popular resistance. They were literally designed to rape and pillage, and then leave behind them a wake of bastard monster babies to remind the populace not to get too uppity next time with their Liege Lords. But like many other Products of Tinkering With Nature's Laws, some orgren, or orgren seed, escaped and began to breed wild, despite the insistence by Spyr-Monsando Channelers Guild Brochures that this was impossible.
Soon those very same Liege lords who were sicking orgren pacification troops on their peasants were now having to pay double to protect their holdings from orgren bandit raids. The Liege Lords were furious; the mage guilds (responsible only to their shareholders) shrugged their shoulders and continued to build a better world through magic.
Sephora knew these factoids because she used to be a familiar to a minor executive officer of a Wizarding Corporation, Caraxis Holdings. The officer had promised to pay a Knight and an Operative to take care of a problem of his making before it revealed itself at a corporate meeting and got the officer ousted from his tower. The problem involved some coin sneaking from one account to another. The officer had paid the two outsiders instead of using the security firm his legal counsel provided in order to keep that disappearance secret.
He was planning to eliminate the outsiders himself because he was greedy and spineless, but instead, he was suspected and murdered by the two he had hired. They had tortured him first, for long enough to get some of that secret coin out of that secret account, then--because one of them had taken a liking to her--had him sign over her lease with his remaining working hand before dispatching him.
Because of this Sephora knew much more than the other female prisoners. She could feel her owner's presence three clicks to the east of this orgren camp. Sephora's analytical brain surmised that this was a fifty-fifty shot of this being a good or a bad thing. Her owner Therian was no Hero either officially or unofficially since the death of the Patriarch thirteen years ago. He may have been three clicks away to rescue her (he did seem to have a fondness for her), or he may have been off on a more worthwhile mission involving coin, drink, or whores. She was one of his possessions now, and she had seen how easily Therian threw away his possessions in order to live the life of a wandering sword-for-hire.
Sephora's best bet for rescue was that Therian would become incensed that orgren bandits would dare steal anything from him, and consider it a mark on his reputation if he didn't murder them all. Sephora was doubtful.
That meant rescue was up to her. She tried to turn and get a better look at the other girls. In the center of the captive pen, the orgren had put her in stocks. Her neck and wrists were locked between two crude wooden boards bound with some iron nails. The stock was at waist level forcing Sephora to bend over. Finally, they had used a wooden bit to gag her. She was rendered both mute and disabled.
