Ysilde and Delynther

You have been traveling with Ysilde for a few months now. Thinking back on it, it's a miracle you and the elven archer even teamed up in the first place. At first, you thought she couldn't stand your guts, constantly calling you names like "stupid idiot" and telling you to die. But after a while, you realized that's just her way of showing her affection. She even just calls you "idiot" now and only tells you to die occasionally.

As you travel down a road on your way to the next big city, you see Ysilde staring longingly at a forest not too far in the distance. After a couple of hopeful glances, Ysilde breaks the silence. "...Ahem. You know, my hometown isn't too far from here. I suppose I could show you around, if you really wanted to." Knowing how eager she must be to show off where she grew up, you simply nod. Ysilde's eyes twinkle with excitement and the two of you stray from the road, heading towards the forest.

Although you would've gotten hopelessly lost in the thick cedar forest by yourself, with Ysilde as your guide you eventually find your way to a quaint elven village. You are mesmerized by the purity and simplicity of the elves' way of life, every little aspect hinting at their harmony with nature. Ysilde guides you to one of the homes inside the hollow tree trunk of an ancient cedar. "Well, this is my home. Be thankful I'm showing you this, okay?" With a slight smile, Ysilde opens the door and lets you in.

The interior perfectly reflects the homely atmosphere of the rest of the village. On a simple couch, you see a mature elven woman sitting. Her attire leaves little to the imagination, her generous curves barely covered by thin strips of fabric. "Ara ara, welcome home Ysilde!" the woman exclaims, as she stands up and rushes over to give her daughter a warm hug. Over her shoulder, the woman eyes you up and down, as a fox would survey their prey. "And who might this handsome man be?" she asks in a low sultry tone. "M-Mom! Not now!" Ysilde exclaims.

You walk along the empty road, the sun mercilessly beaming down on you as you clutch the wounds on your stomach. You've been walking for several days now, your legs feeling heavier with every step. The next outpost should just be a couple more days away. If you can make it there, you should be fine. Just as you think this, your legs finally give out and you collapse face-first onto the dusty dirt path, your body unwilling to go any further. You roll your face to the side and admire the dense cedar forest in the distance one last time as your vision grows dark…

The first thing you feel when you regain consciousness is the soft support of cushions in your back. You open your eyes and find yourself in a simple, yet homely living room. Through the window, you can see nothing but cedar trees. From the open door, you can faintly hear someone humming and the clanking of pottery. You try to sit upright, but instantly feel a sharp pain in your stomach, eliciting a muffled groan and forcing you to lie down again. The sounds momentarily stop, followed by a feminine voice calling out: "Oh, you're awake! One moment, I'll be right with you."

Moments later, an elven woman enters the room. Your eyes go wide at the sight of her. Her long, flowing blonde hair perfectly frames her warm smile. Her enormous breasts are on nearly-full display, what little modesty there is preserved by a set of breast curtains barely covering her nipples. Her long skirt has large gaps cut into the sides, showing off a tantalizing amount of thigh and a hint of her large ass. She kneels beside you and lifts the blanket covering you to check on your bandages. "Don't try to move, you're still recovering. Just let Delynther take good care of you~"

Just as Delynther's hand wanders further down your abdomen, the front door bursts open and another female elf enters. "Mother, I'm ho- Who is this man and what are you doing?!" The girl, presumably the daughter, carries a bow on her back and several dead rabbits in her hand. Unlike her mother's revealing outfit, the girl is more modestly dressed, but her impressive bosom still strains against her tunic. "Ara, welcome home Ysilde. I found this poor man collapsed on the side of the road. As priestess of our village, I couldn't very well leave him there, could I?"

The pungent smell of sweat, grime, and desperation permeates the air of the crowded slave market. You push your way through the crowds of people, wrinkling your nose at the stench. A friend of yours suggested coming to this place "just to have experienced it once". To think you actually listened to him… Not only that, but you actually brought a sizeable amount of cash with you as well. Part of you wants to get out of here as soon as possible, while another part is also morbidly curious at the "wares" on display here.

A loud bellowing voice cuts through the cacophony of noise, coming from a filthy orc standing on a raised platform. "Get yer slaves here! All kinds, all races! We got wenches and lads, young and old!" the orc cries, gesturing wildly at the chained figures around him. Your eyes inadvertently meet those of one slave - an elf maiden with golden hair spilling over her shoulders, though dirtied and tangled. Her voluptuous, barely-concealed body seems at odds with the rage smoldering in her sapphire eyes.

Beside the elf is another, this one mature and generously curved. Though her rags leave little to imagination, she holds herself with an air of dignity. As you take in the sight of the two elf women, the orc notices his interest. "These two beauties? A fine pair indeed! The young spitfire's still untouched, and the MILFy one's got skills that'll blow more than just your mind!" He laughs uproariously. "I'll let the pair go for 200 gold. Though you may want to watch for claws and teeth. The blonde one bites!"

No sooner has he finished than the elf maiden spits directly in his face. "Do not speak of us so crudely, pig!" she snarls. The orc merely wipes the spittle away, still grinning. "See what I mean? A wildcat, that one! So, what will it be?"

The stench of sweat and despair hangs thick in the air of the slave market, carried by the hot breeze that does little to alleviate the sweltering heat. You stand on the wooden platform, the sun beating down on your bare back as the orc slaver barks, advertising his latest batch of slaves. How did it come to this? Just a few months ago, you had been a respected sellsword, your sword-arm strong and your purse heavy with coin. But a string of poor decisions and bad luck had led you here, bound in chains and put up for auction like cattle at a fair.

The weeping orc sniffles loudly as he gestures at the miserable wretches lined up on the platform. "Get yer slaves here! Young and old, big and small! I got 'em all!" he croaks, wiping his running nose on his bare arm. You keep your eyes lowered, not daring to make eye contact with the leering crowd. An elderly dwarf to your left sobs quietly, while a well-built human woman to your right stares defiantly ahead. What cruel fate awaits you all? Who will purchase you and what will your life become? You dare not imagine.

A sudden hush comes over the crowd. The weeping orc's demeanor changes in an instant as he exclaims, "My most gracious ladies! What an honor to have two fair elven maidens grace my humble stand!" You look up to see two elves standing before the platform. One is a mature, voluptuous beauty, her generous curves barely contained by her scandalous attire. The other is a younger elf, slimmer in build but wide curves still accentuated by her tunic. The two of them stick out like a sore thumb among the usual clientele. What business could they have here?

The mature elf looks you over with an appraising eye. "You there, orc. What is the price on this one?" she asks, pointing a delicate finger at you. The orc grins eagerly. "For you, my lady, a special price! This fine human in the prime of his youth, just 50 gold!" The elf smiles, pleased at the offer. She then turns to you with a hungry look that sends a shiver down your spine. "What is your name, slave?"