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.
The other captives were dressed in simple shifts and camisoles; whereas Sephora, as property, was practically naked in twine sandals with tied leather bands that ran up to her knees, and a corded belt that ran along her waist. Her hair was black and shiny like raven feathers and parted where two curling polished goat horns poked through. Her eyelashes were smokey, her lips plump but curved into a sneer.
Her skin was dark red with faint black ink lines, a purchase history of sorts; a serpent that wound around her arm marking her as belonging to a now defunct wizard, a red rose blooming above her hairless mons marking her as previously belonging to Rose and Thorn Slave and Familiar Sales (3-21 on her right shoulder meaning third batch-twenty first in line), A broken skull to show that she was taken during the battle of Golgotha hill, with the number 18 graffitied into the eye marking the age of her capture, a black star on her lower back to mark that she was broken and trained by the Adelphi sisters, and a stone sphinx along her outer thigh marking her as purchased wholesale by Caraxis holdings.
The most recent ink was a snarling bear on the inner thigh, Therian's mark. Also, it was noted that Sephora was an experienced slave and fucktoy by the series of brass rings that pierced her; one in her nose, both nipples, horns, and her clitoral hood. Her breasts and ass were magically enhanced, but the rest of her body was somewhat lithe and athletic, a traveler's build down to her sinewy goat legs.
The peasant girls around her were kneeling huddled together in the darkness. The orgren had only bound their hands behind them with a cord. All in all, they had put in a lot more effort making sure Sephora was incapacitated. It made sense. She was Helborn, infernal blood ran through her veins meaning she was genetically predisposed to sorcery. The Orgren might not have known what she could do, but they were smart to be wary of her.
Sephora whipped around her goat tail until it thwacked against one of the peasant girls. The girl looked up and Sephora tried to catch her attention through the corner of her eye. The girl, a dark-haired brunette from the inn whose name Sephora remembered as Becca, looked back. Sephora turned her hand and pointed at her gag.
Becca looked over at the orgren. He now had the sylvyn-bitch with her vapid drooling face in the dirt and was fucking her ass. His large weapon looked like it could split the tiny pointy-ear creature in half. The sylvyn-bitch was squealing in joy. In the center of the camp, the other orgrens were moving around the fire, drinking and laughing. Most of the danger was oblivious to her which lent Becca courage. She crawled in front of Sephora and slowly slid up the makeshift stockade until her hands brushed against Sephora's face, then she blindly ran her bound hands across Sephora's lips until she was able to hook her fingers behind the bit and pull it out of her mouth.
"Finally," groaned Sephora. She opened her mouth wide to stretch her jaw muscles and ignored the wet drool that was soaking her chin. "Your name is Becca isn't."
"You came into our town with those two mercenaries. One of them had you on a leash." The girl whispered. Sephora noted the country-girl innocence in her voice.
Sephora stretched out her jaw in a yawn. "Yes, that would be Therian, my master, and his friend Sohrab. You were standing behind a man who was the mayor of the town. He made a deal with them to rat out a gob nest."
Becca nodded, "My father Klaus. He likes to bring me to his negotiations. He always expected me to take over as mayor someday."
"Well," Sephora said as she watched the orgren pound the squealing sylvyn-bitch into the dirt. "We have some hope then. If your father will pay a few silver to kill gobs, I'm sure he would raid the town treasury for his little princess."
