A Drop in the Pond. [M]

[Draconian]

For @DaGlobster

Shivering was becoming a regular everyday thing for her.

Grace tucked her hands under her armpits and curled into herself, an attempt to keep warm when everything was so cold. Though, it wasn't actually cold at all and Grace was always just too warm. A downside of her magic. Her body temperature was through the roof and moderate temperatures were just too cold for her. The fact she had been dressed in a sheer gauzy fabric to accent her features - show her off naked without her actually being naked - didn't help her at all.

She had gotten her wish.

Braving the forests, Grace had gotten from of Connlaoth and the mage camps.

The price was high though and she cast a glance at the green skinned individual who'd put the paint on her.

Grace was to be a gift.

Her hair had been brushed out and taken from it's tie. The long white-gold coloured strands reaching her waist in thick waves. Another shiver ran through her body, though it wasn't from the cold this time. It was from fear.

Could it be called kidnapped if there's no one to know you were taken?

The orcs... Goblins? Grace didn't know. They'd found her. Snatched her from her sleeping spot under a tree. Stripped her down and tied her up. A humiliating act was done to her to test her purity but, other than that she wasn't touched. Wasn't manhandled. Not a bruise or a marking on her aside from the colours of the people she was to be given to.

A peach offering, they'd tried to explain in common. Grace was going to be the tool used to bring peace.

Supposedly.

Which was why she was being tugged along through a crowd and shoved in front of the leader - or what she supposed was the leader.

"We've brought you a gift!" he proclaimed, holding Graces shoulders before pushing her forward gently.

Another shiver wracked her body and she stared down at the ground like it was her only life line. Was this worse than the mage camps?

"A virgin human!" The orc was quite pleased with himself, reaching around and pulling open the material to present the human's body. A little thing, they'd tried to feed her to fatten her up and it'd worked a little but she was still tiny and it was too late to switch her out for one that was more voluptuous.

Grace cast a glance up to the receiver before she ducked her head back down quickly after just a glance, eyes squeezing shut while tears trailed down her cheeks. This wasn't what she wanted. She wanted a life. Later. When they were sleeping. She'd try to get away then.

"We hope it pleases you because, while small, she is quite beautiful. Eyes the colour of trees!" His hand snaked around her head to pull her head up and finally she stared at him and it felt like the world filled upside down. He couldn't exactly boast about how pillowy her tits were - because they weren't. Stupid human and her inability to gain weight fast enough to give her decent breasts.

He was going to kill her.

[DaGlobster]

It had been a long day for Motark Bloodspears. No battles, fortunately, but there had been a dispute between two higher tribe members, and Motark had spent most of his time, energy, and emotion dealing with that issue. It all ended with a blood duel, as it usually did.

Motark had barely had any time to himself, so when the peace offering from the White Leaf clan arrived, he was in a...

...less than jovial mood.

He gazed down at the delegates and their gift from his throne, a magnificent seat lined with the skulls of the Bloodspears who sat on it previously. He found some degree of amusement in thinking about how these delegates could come to the conclusion that the woman before him would make a good concubine.

Maybe for a regular orc, but Motark was a solid two feet taller than her, towering over her even as he sat. He mulled over his options. The White Leaf clan had been an annoyance, this was true, however, they'd been nothing more than that. They thought they could attack the Red Sun Clan's hunters, and encroach on their territory. They were a significantly smaller clan and they'd bitten off more than they could chew.

They'd learned their lesson, it seemed.

Motark stood.

"With this gift, your chieftain has brought peace between our two clans," Motark said in orcish.

"Leave now, and never return. If I ever see another White Leaf on my territory, you will not find me so merciful the second time around."

He motioned for them to leave.

[Draconian]

Another shiver ran through her and Grace was pushed forward after some words in a strange language were said. The monsters that brought her here were leaving and Grace could only whimper and curl her arms around her middle. A hesitant look to the monster and Grace sucked in a breath, darting her eyes.

There was no escape.

"Please," she said quietly, taking a hesitant step forward. "I just..." Want to go home. But she didn't have a home. "Don't eat me," Grace finally finished, hair slipping over her front to cover her body, "I don't want to die."

[DaGlobster]

Motark looked down at the girl, begging for her life, and he turned his back to her. He walked back to his throne and sat down. He'd deal with her in the morning, but for now, he was in no mood for this.

He motioned to his guards, once again speaking in orcish.

"Get some shackles on her, and give her some furs to cover up. Confine her to a tent so I can deal with her later."

Two of Motark's armored guards (monsters in their own right) stepped up to her. One of them took her by the arm and led her outside of his tent. The Red Sun clan's village spanned the entirety of a valley, and it was a veritable city of tents, wooden structures, and agricultural fields.

The guards started leading Grace to a small, one-person tent just outside of Motark's tent.

[Draconian]

Wouldn't get eaten today.

Grace sighed in relief.

Only to squeal in fear, though quickly she snapped her mouth shut.

Thrown into the tent, a skin of fur was tossed at her and Grace could do one thing.

Curling under the blanket she moved as far from the opening as she could and she cried.

"This is worse than Mage camps." She whispered to herself, ducking her head down. At least those had all been humans. The paint was itchy but now her hands were bound.

[DaGlobster]

As per Motark's wishes, Grace was left alone for the duration of the night. Come morning, though, the flap to her small tent was pushed open, and an armored orc stepped in.

"Chief will see you now," he said.

[Draconian]

Eventally she had fallen asleep, curled upunder the fur. For the first time in weeks she had been warm. The intrusion had her startled awake and Grace stared wide eyed at the orc. Doing her best to cover her body she stood up and swallowed, moving closer to follow.

Maybe he could be reasoned with. She could explain and he would let her go. Grace looked to the orc, pale and trembling before giving a nod, waiting to be escorted away to this Chief.

[DaGlobster]

The orc took her roughly by the arm, and returned her to Motark's tent. They went past the throne and through a set of flaps that had been pinned up. Motark's tent was a massive affair, with only the front end being dedicated to the throne room. The rest of it was a single large room that made up the rest of Motark's living quarters.

Indeed, it was fit for a king, and the chambers were as luxurious as a tribe of savage orcs could manage.

Motark was doing situps in the center of the room, counting to himself in orcish. The guard left, letting down the pinned flaps with a knowing grin.

For the most part, it seemed Motark hadn't yet ackowledged her presence.

[Draconian]

Grace was going to faint.

It felt like her heart was in her throat and she gave a long hard stare at the closed tent flaps. She supposed this was why they wanted to make sure she was 'unused.' It would be impossible though, Grace watched the Orc man do his sit ups. Speaking to himself in that strange language.

She wasn't sure if she was cold again or if it was terror that made her shiver.

Still, Grace kept quiet.

A brief glance at the tent flaps and a steady breath.

Maybe... Maybe she could just sneak away.

A gentle movement and her knees gave out. Grace was on the floor, naked except for the fur's that had fallen from her shoulders and her curtain of white gold hair. Trembling. It was fear. For the first time in her life she was trembling in fear.

"Are you going to eat me?" She finally asked, hesitant, half sure the Orc-man would just ignore her anyway.

[DaGlobster]

"No."

The answer was immediate, and Motark's common was surprisingly good, much better than that of the orcs who'd brought her in.

He stopped doing his situps, and he sat up straight. He drew a knee up and rested an arm on it. He was wearing nothing, save for a short kilt made of furs around his waist that kept him covered. Ever inch of him was covered in rock hard muscle. He could probably tear Grace in half, if he so desired.

"The orcs who brought you; how did they capture you?"

[Draconian]

It wasn't a big relief.

If he wasn't going to eat her, what else was she here for? Grace gave another shiver, lower lip trembling. Always so cold.

"I was sleeping," She admitted, head down before she did her best to pull the fur back up over her shoulders. It was still warm from her. A mini-heater that she was. Everything else was just too cold and Grace snuggled under the fur and stared down at the ground in front of her - though she snuck a few peaks at the orc and felt the primal fear.

"I got away from the mage camps in Connlaoth and... " A hitched breath and the tears came, now she was here. A weary look to the orc before she lowered her head again, shoulders shaking while she tried to keep her sobs silent. "I don't even know where I am."

[DaGlobster]

"You're in Bloodmorrow, home of the Red Sun clan."

Motark watched her shiver and cry, and a pang of emotion flitted through him. She was here because of a war. A war he escalated.

"It lies in a valley between the Great Plains and what the humans call Adela."

[Draconian]

Grace just stared at him.

He wasn't scary looking anymore.

It felt like a punch in the gut.

"Adela?" The words were a whisper and she shuffled closer, looking torn between being happy and still being terrified. "I'm in Adela? Not... Not Connlaoth?" More tears. More huffy little breaths. "I'm free?"

[DaGlobster]

"You are neither in Adela or Connlaoth,"  Motark said, and he rose to his feet to stretch.

"So yes. You are free from Connlaoth."

He didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but it seemed like her not being in this "Connlaoth" place calmed her down.

[Draconian]

Grace lost any sense of joy about not being in Connlaoth when he stood up. She simply stared up at him in slight horror.

"Are you a monster?"

[DaGlobster]

At her words, Motark frowned just a tad.

"I am an orc."

[Draconian]

"I've never met an orc before," She swallowed, moving a little closer. Curiosity overcoming any fear. He wasn't going to eat her. He hadn't touched her. So far he seemed to be the safest thing here.

"Why are you so big?"

[DaGlobster]

"I am chief," Motark said, and he motioned to the rest of the room with his arms.

"I am of the Bloodspear line. My ancestors were the greatest chiefs to have ever lived."

[Draconian]

Grace looked around, confused. What sort of answer was that?

"I don't know what that means." Another few steps closer before she remembered - she didn't want to be here.

"Can I go? Please?" Grace shook her head, "I'll do anything. Just... Can you let me go?"

[DaGlobster]

"Ancient blood flows through me. That is why I am so... "big"."

At her second set of words, he lowered his arms, and sighed.

"I cannot."

He crossed his arms.

"I desire to, but I cannot."