User blog:MockingJester/A bridge to cross

"Man, it has been a while since" Avos looks to his mount, currently resting by his side. A small but sturdy donkey rightly filled with his master's belonging. Trinkets of various use and presence. Things picked up along his year past in the Wheat Tops village.

Avos never really was the swordmaster, even with the experience gained from this so-far, mundane job as a bridge guard. Though a sword was well rested on his side, its blade glowing with the faint shine of silver when drawn, the man had long preferred a spear shimmering in the same metal.

Standard weaponry gave by those of the Wheat Tops leaders to people they manage to hire as guards. Decent paid had convinced Avos to be one of them, sparing enough to fill his mule to the brim with stocks and odd trinkets to aid his profession..."...though I'm still not sure whether we'll stick around--huh?"

Sights from beyond the trees. Autumn. Leaves falling in the midst, their colors burning in the shade of the faltering sun. All squashed by their steps. Steps of shadows.

Avos saw their heads rearing from the hill he stood on, a magnificent build of bricks and cement. Its gray ivory was polished despite the Wheat Tops being unremarkable, save for the slightly safer roads than usual. Although right now, Avos has doubts.

"Ok, come, we need to move. Now". His eyes remain fixated on the two figures walking his way. He pulls to the binds of his mule, hoping to get it to follow. A somewhat sound tactic he could count on if a bit tenuous at first.

This day was not one of those, the mule seemingly bound to the earth. Refusing to move, all too busy chowing down on the fresh grass on the side. Its slow mind cared little of its master's increasing panic.

"Come on! We have some nasty coming our way! Move!" His pushes are worthless, his spear in the way. Seeing the two approaches spurred his pushes "You want to be chow tonight?! Then move! Argh, fine! Don't blame me when you become chow!"

Avos drops his spear and flees to the nearest bushes just as their heads reared the mountain, a voice undoubtedly feminine if crass "Huh...I could have sworn that--nevermind that! Sis! We got ourselves some grub tonight!"

"And a full donkey, no less! That sight of yours really is blessed!" Another voice, just as coarse as the first one with subtle differences. Avos remains hidden inside his bushes, taking a peek at the assailants.

Pink flappy ears. A spiraling emancipated tail. Fierce orange stares. There was no doubt about it "So, wait...they were right?" His whisper calls back to the rumors he had heard about monsters being women right as his eyes caught their very human-like features. Hips, hands, chests, faces, all were bound to the most beautiful women he had seen so far. Enthralled he would have been...if not for the massive cleaver and ax each one respectively had.

Then, his heart clenches as one of them began looking around "Hey sis, you go and bring our next dinner home. I smell me some cute little thing around here!" Without waiting, she continues gazing all-around while the other one began dragging the stubborn mule back. Smelling inhalations leading her to lock her eyes...

...on his hiding spot.

"Oh sh--" Avos clenches his newly anointed sword in one hand, dirt on the other. He doubts he could run, much less with the other about to lead his mule and all of its accessories away. Hard purchased items, ones he could use to gain a marginal advantage. No...between that and the fact that the rumors made monsters to be better in every way than people like him, he couldn't afford a panicked sprint.

The element of surprise was his only window. One increasingly nearby as the monstrous woman approaches, smelling the air still in her path. He was sure, no, certain, that she was aware of a presence. He clenches the bundle of dirt coarse in his grasp, waiting...

His instincts compel him to dodge to the left in a rebuttal position, his reward, the lack of a stern rattle from wherever he was covered in seconds ago. The bush became the sole victim to her wanton violence, split in half, its leaves and branches.

"Look what we've got here!" A loud voice booms his way. The orc stands gleaming in pride, her massive cleaver on her shoulder. Almost salivating at the prospect of a man and the potential 'weight' under his belt, she wasn't too keen on the bundle of dirt clutched in his hand "A poor little man who thought he could--argh!"

Her sight is instantly turned to brown and dark, the clutter of soil now polluting her eyes. This loss of eyesight bought about a loss of composure, a glint of silver swinging just a bit too fast for him to make out, save for the wind spewed about his way.

"Why you--once I get this dirt off--!" Avos wastes no time drawing his sword. Not an expert, he was. But even then, his skirmishes with fearful bandits and wild animals had given enough for him to spot a weakness. Her back.

He sprints, taking as much distance from the front as possible, running to the back, his sword sharply edged. He was told his weapons could bring him compensation for his lack of prowess. It would prove to be true...in a sense.

For, plunging his silver sword deeply in the back of the orc had the immediate pour of life. Not in the shape of a deep red splashing the grass blades underneath her. But, lively purple streaming in semi-gaseous evaporation slowly trickling from the wounded area. In fact, the wound wasn't a wound.

Pulling his blade away from the beast woman, Avos was met with a soft purple pulsing in what could only be a soft stab. She soon recovered, turning her still blind face to meet the guard, eyes still covered by mud like a mask one bears at night. Her cheeks fluster in deep red, feeling an enamored hunger for the man who now was in proximity.

"Hah...hah...that's a nice stab, guy! Not bad!" Avos can't help but feel a certain way, tiny bits of the purple leaking on him. Just about enough for him to see how 'hungry' she had become. A faint thought kicking at the back of his head.

"Ugh, what is...?" He shakes his head just as she rubs off her eyes. Primetime for her to feel a sudden slash, this time. He didn't know how strong she was, considering she earnestly withstood a stab to the back. He didn't want to find out and attacked without remorse.

Her 'wound' now 'bled' forward, spanning from the lower side of her hip to her cleaver-carrying arm. "Oh--goddamnit..." She falls unconscious, a flow of purple essence slowly dwindling out from her two 'wounds'. The orc looked more in a defeated sleep than actual death. A confusing sight for Avos, expecting actual wounds to be present, not a vulnerable slumber.

Here, at this moment, he was allowed an irregular sight. Her body. Embezzled by feminity, laced in the balance of strength and look despite her rough appearance. Alone, inviting. Again, this thought attempts to click in his mind.

It shuffles back to the corner of his thoughts as he could hear the other one. Her sister "Sis! What the hell?! you're still toying with him?!"

He runs to a tree, this time, the advantage of the hill making his sprint unnoticeable by the second orc, somewhat more distraught to see her kind laid bare on the ground "--sis?"

A mauling ax is pulling out, shining in the waning evening. Looking over her sister's body rubs off an expression Avos can't quite remove from anger "The little man has cut my sister down, has he? Ohh, I hope you had fun doing so because I catch you and squeeze everything bit out of ya! All to my now very hungry sis!"

Her eyes dart to the side, seeing a fleeting shadow in the direction of the donkey. A sneering grin stretches her lips "Thinking of getting that ass, huh?! Not before I get yours, guard!"

She rushes, fervent in the desire to beat the man and gag him, an offering to her fallen sister. She rushes in, expecting to see a man trying to push his stubborn donkey around. She could already see it: the terrified expression on his face as she slammed her gigantic ax towards him, burning his entire mana. The nascent delicacy of a man who managed to best her sister. The--

"Uhh?" Her foot feels wobbly. Weak, even. Looking down, the common aroma of leaking energy filled her sight, ushering her in confusion "How the hell--Ohh, I see!"

There he was, standing before his donkey, a vial down at his feet. A yellow drip rests at its confinement. Much more comfortable with his spear, Avos re-arms his tool of combat, so quickly after slashing at her foot with the silver elegance. A strange, if an effective gift.

"You're quite quick on your feet, are you, guard? And, my! What a look you're shooting me! Hoping to get a piece of this, I think! Well, come and get it before I get you!" Her ax falls upon him, prompting panic from the donkey, running off int he distance.

He wouldn't run far. And it didn't matter much. Avos had what he needed, for iron rope now dangled on his back, ready for use. Dodging backward with a dose of quickness, Avos retaliates, punching at her shoulder. A single hit.

More than enough, as neither her no her sister seemed to be aware of armor, a product that might have enamored their endurance to a definite loss from him. He was lucky, to say the least, adequately prepared for a dangerous encounter. A thought that plays in his mind as she collapses, a stern gaze in her eyes, faltering to sleep.

The potion's effect wears off, giving way to his much more slag movement. That and a sense of exhaustion. Dodging this fast, hitting this precisely, it mostly robbed him of his strength "Jeez! Seriously, what would happen if they didn't drop this quickly! Anyway..."

He approaches the second sister, soundly sleeping in her vulnerability. And again, this idea spurs in. Monsters were women. The orcs were women. Beautiful, too. And right now, he had two unconscious, unlikely to recognize him as they seemed to see guards like him sometimes.

Alone with two monster women, not expected to return for at least an hour. Looking at her face, her soft features hidden under the brass of muscles coated in a feminine manner. Her lips, her body. Surely--

"Gah! That old man didn't tell me these silver weapons would act on me like this! Might as just get it over with!" He knees close to the woman, the orc, snoring so deeply that it may look more as if she was just lethargic...which she was.

The iron ropes unfasten, binding her hands and legs together like a prey about to be brought back. All the time, this lecherous thought lingers, fueled by the inviting absence she was sporting. Welcoming molds he accidentally touches as he reached for her limbs.

The same occurs for the former orc he dropped, the temptation, bright. Never the less, he manages, shaking his head all the while. With that done, he leaves them, looking to report their presence to the more advanced guard as he had nothing on him that could potentially deal with them more permanently.

He runs for his donkey, lazily munching the grass again and pulls it along, his patrol almost done. Unlike this encounter, the rest goes by marginally. The night falls with no ceremony.

Avos returns to the Wheat Tops, mule behind him. He prances to the mayor's bureau, the man seconds away from wrapping up. Literally steps away from exiting the premise when "Oh, hey there! How's our eastern bridge guard doing?"

A short but stout man, the mayor brings his ringed man to shake at Avos, prompting accepting the offer. Both of them were finished, ready for home. Well, home for one, Avos rested in a hotel rented specifically for him in his trial profession.

The mayor's curly mustache rises as he notices the new guard's slight wariness "You don't look all that well, my boy".

"Well, hard not to when you had to fend off creatures never seen before". The young man scratches his head, holding still his spear "These things you gave me. They are effective...to a point".

"Of course, this is a peculiar silver. It's more akin to a neutralizing weapon than a killing one".

"What? Really?"

"Yes. Unlike the regular weapons you might have seen people carrying in far lands, here, our guards and officers are armed with such silver-coated arms".

"Ohh..." Avos takes a look at the tip of his spear. That it refused to draw blood no matter the amount of thrust he did had contributed to its polished luster, fresh as if it was straight out of the smith's corner.

"Does...does that mean that I need another weapon to finish them? Because, right now, there are two orc...women?...waiting to catch their consciousness".

"Oh, oh, oh. Oh no, no. If that was the case, the trainer would have handed you one. We don't kill them here, simply because it keeps the majority of them from gaining any outrage toward marching to our humble little village. In fact, the rare individuals that somehow got captured by them admittedly have suffered no harm".

"Really?" Avos had his doubts. One of them called him a 'pet'. The other one tried decapitating him.

"I sense doubt in your confrontation, But worry not. They carry the same weapons as you are, with no desire to shed our blood. Most we do is catch the few emboldened by one of them carrying a bounty of any sort and either push them back or force them back. It's a strange balance where neither really wants to instigate genuine hostility. An ironic state of peace, if you can believe it. Despite our relatively small stature, we are rather comfortable around here, where monsters are prone to be present".

"Hmm, I can believe that. Especially in other places where peace is more tenuous with rumors of monsters taking on a more...aggressive stance".

"Yes. It tends to happen in places of hostility. Which is why we forsake our regular weapons for the silver elegance you carry. But, enough rabble, it's growing cold out here". The mayor plunges a hand to his pocket, besides it, a loose bag.

"Here, for your troubles. I'm sure the night patrol is already taking care of the two you've caught". A purse of coins. An apparent bonus doubled in two.

"Hum, sure?" Avos' hand struggles a bit, the weigh of coins well worth the effort to keep it lifted. He glances at the mayor turning a corner, a direction to the largest house in the Wheat Tops.

He turns back to the bags, now attached to his hips. Decent place, despite that unsavory encounter "Hmm, that was something. Think I'll stick around more. Guard duty isn't bad in this corner".

Sleep, however, begins to take hold "Man, this little exercise took more out of me than I expected. Come on". The donkey follows, its ears twitching and eyes stretched out. That near apparent false death had terrified the poor critter. Stubborn as it was, Avos hadn't the will to scold it, let alone shout at it. It was still a good partner, all in all.

It follows quietly to the rented out ranch, made more affordable by the surprising time spent in this village. A regular's discount. Avos brings off the trinkets from its back giving it free rein to run and sleep as it wished in the sizable shelter. Everything it had brought now idles by the side.

As for Avos "Off to the inn! I'm sleepy enough as it is". Through a quick trip to the barracks to log off his weapons and armor, Avos rushes to the Wheaty Bed, taking in his keep and a straight fall to sleep. No open time to a cold glass of milk or idle stargazing. All in the while, some men numbering in the dozen approached the supposed area, not far from a bridge. Broken ropes of iron... --- A reliable sleep for another day. Avos sets up in his gear, marching into the barracks, flanked by his trusty, yet stubborn donkey. Looking into his locker, he sees it. A polished, but otherwise, unremarkable piece of armor. The helmet has no sigil, no decoration, save for the split between the iron interior and the metal white topping it. Round and head-shaped, it offers good protection against the environment, being one of those looking to protect the wearer's jaw just as much as his head.

The cuirass. Nothing close to a knight's heavy armor. Nothing near to an adventurer's leather garb. A comfortable setting in between. Chains connecting the innards, covered by polished metal covering the shoulders, front and back down to the close of the waist, all white with traces of green. The chainmail went for the rest.

The same for the bottom, small and mobile plates looking more sized for medium wear than full isolation from the outside world. Avos didn't have a problem with those, as the few confrontations with bandits and ruffians have given their reliability.

He sets himself in the white, taking a peep at an open locker. A set identical to him, same for a blue shade. blue and black. He nods "Must be from the night patrol. Tired. I get that". Taking his spear and sword, Avos passes across the locker, pushing the door to a close. One thing they had going for them was this sense of brotherhood between them. Facing the same dangers be it day or night had the tendency of upbringing one's sense of fellowship towards those wearing the uniform. Or, well, armor.

Regardless, Avos wanders outside, his donkey, about as stubborn as faithful. Right now, it was balancing on the latter, its ears perking up with attention as it sees the man exit the premises. Seeing him walk past it is signal enough to follow close, the reward of head pat, soundly ample "Today should be mild, old friend. Just as always".

They walk past a few civilians, many of them waving at him. The drifting traveler somehow bound to the village's harness. Some of them still chuckle at the idea that he was only 'passing by'. An irony that still travels by his mind.

Regardless, he sets off to a different position on the bridge. A nifty little watchtower, small but cozy. Yesterday had him personally patrol the bridge's surroundings for rumors of shadows worrying travelers. Today was a distant watch. To his donkey companion munching off the grass, and him, watching at the top. --- "They weren't here?" Another guard nodding to Avos, having walked up to the tower of his watch with unsavory news.

"Indeed, the night patrol did find the remains of the iron rope you apparently tied them in. It seems they decided that the humiliation of being deported front this place wasn't suitable to them and just snapped it themselves".

"Damn. And here I thought I used enough". Avos knew he probably didn't. Between the weird purple essence giving suggestions to his mind and the unwanted caress pouring trough his armored gloves, Avos preferred getting this done as quickly as he could. Alas, it likely meant a botched work.

"Don't worry about it. Even the steel rope isn't enough for them. We have silver metal for their cases. I'll make a demand to get you some, though they're pretty rare".

"That's fine, I doubt they think to pass here again". Avos nods, accepting the batch none the less. Just in case.

And on and on, for the next week, his patrol was mundane. Be it by the tower or by foot, nothing out of the ordinary. --- Today was also one of those days. Rumors. Civilians running to Avos as he marched out the barracks with sightings of shadows and crunched leaves. They were worried, obviously. And he answered, as usual.

This morning, he didn't see anything. Not from the tower, not from his patrol. Not until noon, where Avos opted to take a lonely walk. His donkey had decided that eating grass couldn't be resisted by the tower. Call as he could, it wouldn't budge.

He walks by himself, spear in hands, two vials on his belt. A yellow and red one. A few times he passed through, seeing nothing. Nothing but the branching fall of leaves, the dwindling branches, the shadow that...peeks through one of the bulks?

"Halt! Show yourself!" That evening against the orcs really kicked his senses, compelling him a quick drink of his yellow potion. Just in the nick of time his instincts kicking him in an evasive roll meters away from where he stood.

His eyes spot a flicker of shiny metal falling with force where he was a second ago. Agitation fills his masked expression. He couldn't hear her sneak up on him up to the actual attack. But he was ready, as far as he could be.

"Oi, oi! Sister, this is the one, alright!" A familiar voice rings from the scantily clad lass, lifting the cleaver back to her shoulders. A grin stretches her lips whereas the shadow he spotted rapidly divided form the tree it hid behind.

A reflection of the first one with notable differences. The hair, the weapon, the variant of her cloth. The first one he had managed to drop a week ago. She equally grins, lifting her cleaver to the shoulders "Ohh, nice find sister! I recognize that pearly stance he's taking, even with that spear around!"

Wait...they were looking for him? Him in particular? Among many guards looking like him with the uniform? Avos ignores the potential vengeance threading "This is no place for you to waddle about! Return to where you came from!"

"Not without some grub, you thief!" The second woman shouts, approaching her sister's side with a side effect of Avos backing further. A fight isn't really his wish right now. Not against two of them, fully awake and aware of him. No advantage for him to take--wait, grub?

"Grub? You mean food?" He stance still at a defensive stance, spear pointed and darting between the two as well as his eyes. Anything sudden movement would compel him to flee, perhaps call for reinforcement.

"Grub! Food! Chow! Whatever you call it, we want to eat!" The ax woman bellows, clenching the shaft of her two-handed tool "You owe us after robbing us!"

"I didn't take anything from you".

"Oh, yea? That donkey we found was ours!" The cleaver orc retaliates.

"No, I bought him. He's my companion".

"Yea, and you left him! Even went about cutting us with that sword and spear and robbed us of our mana! Thanks to that, we're really hungry, and who better to feed us than the man who cut us?"

"Yea! Wouldn't want us to get physical, do we?" Again, the ax-wielding orc clenches her weapon, seemingly ready to make due to her threat, although neither advanced.

"Tsk..." Avos wasn't in the best mind to read any sign. Be their reluctance to swing anew, or take on a more aggressive stance. Right now, he owed them something to eat. He wasn't confident in his battling towards the two, let alone one, and a rampage across the bridge he watched over wasn't in his wishes, more so over the entrance to the Wheat Tops "Fine...wait here".

He backsteps, ever pointing his spear at the two at intervals. One of them takes an even bigger grin, the ax bearing orc. Her sister seems sterner in her glare, giving him an expression holding him to his word as they slowly fade from sight.

Avos had the idea of slow-burning his dinner. Several chicken legs roasting over a fire in the open roof of his tower. But now, it seems he wasn't going to get anything for noon "Great, looks like I'm walking hungry..."

He comes back a few minutes later, walking off the path of the bridge leading far and wide to a distant city. The leaves fell in perpetual motions,  betraying the thought that winter was aboard. Considering the increasingly chilly atmosphere, they weren't far out.

Shadows deep in the woods, now approaching as he unloads. A makeshift campfire, portable employing mundane magic. Kits offered from the same place that smiths their silver weapons. Avos resumes the last bit of flesh to golden standards, already beset by their voices "Hmm, hmm! I already smell a feast!"

"I know, right? Damn, that's what you eat, huh?"

"..." Avos wasn't in the mood to retaliate, backing away as the twins eagerly scoot to the campfire, watching with a salivating prospect. Huge legs roasting on the flames. A few more needing only to cook.

"Damn, he really put out!" The cleaving orc forcefully grasps one of the roasted legs, burnt to a golden hue. Perfect for one to sink their teeth in, which she does with wanton abandon.

"Hey, come on! I can hear your stomach grumble!" The former ax orc also takes a seat near the flame, bitting deep in the leg to purchase a piece. Midway through her chewing, she spots Avos taking a vigil stance in a place where the bridge would be, a mile away.

"I have a job to do. If you can promise me you won't go berserk afterward, eat up to your hearts' content. In the meanwhile, I'll be resuming my patrol".

"Aw, come on! Ok, look, we're sorry, ok? Just...this isn't food you eat while walking, I'm sure you were planning to take a load off, weren't you?!" Another parcel of meat being chewed by the ax orc, tapping the grass ground in a beckoning manner.

"Not anymore".

"Come on! You're really going away like that?" The cleaver orc was on her second leg, listening to her sister trying to convince the distrustful man. She joins in, having forgotten whatever bit of resentment that might have festered in their less-than-favorable meeting.

"We're not going to eat ALL of it! We can share, you know?!"

"No, no, I'm fine. I got a bridge to patrol". Avos parts, feeling pretty relieved despite the hunger now walking on his toes, ignoring their sighs between bites. They disappear int he woods, the flicker of his flames fading from sight as well. --- Another week passes, with Avos not seeing neither one or the other. His patrols further cemented his yearning to remain here, enough that the mayor even gave him a brochure of potential permanent houses to visit. Places he could, with time, hope to purchase and garnish in his style.

His mind continues to daze off the ideas. Sitting by the edge of the bridge he was to guard for the sight of shadows. Again. His spear on his lap, Avos absent-mindedly observes the branches growling in their increasing emptiness. Only for his dozing noggin to suddenly perk up, agency by movement.

Hoping off from the makeshift seat gravel and brick could make, he runs off-road, the glint of his spear, absolute confidence of spotting whoever or whatever lurked behind the tall trees "Halt! Who be here--ohh, you again?"

Two shadows peeling off, presenting bodies as alluring as tough. Ax and cleaver, both nested on the back of grinning women. The ax-bearing speaks with uncanny familiarity "Hey, hey, hey, if it isn't our favorite spearman! Been a while, hmm?"

"Favorite--?!" Avos shakes his head, immediately dismissing these words "What are you here for? I've already fed you my dinner, I don't see what business you have with me".

"Easy: we want more grub!" The second one speaks, a measure of confidence in her tone "Last bit you gave was mighty good, and, we figured you could give us some more sample! I mean, it is close to your dining time, yes?"

Their grins speak it all, they wanted more. And somehow thought to 'visit' him in this particular time. Coincidence? Likely not.

Regardless, Avos never was in the mood to compete with two orcs, however relatively harmless the mayor made them be. He sighs, again acknowledging that he was going without eating for the second time. And turns...

Minutes later, he comes back with the same kit, same magic campfire and his stock of, this time, carefully packed steak pieces, ready to cook. He sets everything up...and promptly leaves.

"Hey, hey, hey! What's the hurry for?" The cleaver orc asks, her sister already kneeling in front of the campfire.

"Since I'm not going to eat, I might as well start patrolling. You lot just make sure not to be seen...as ever".

"Man..." Deep in her steak, the ax bearing orc shoots a beckoning glance at Avos, tapping on the same of the campfire "Relax! We'd be more than happy to let a handsome man like yourself munch along. Would make for some fun company".

"Yea, come on!" The cleaver orc takes to her feet, hands gestured to the little campfire, a few steps his way "You were going for a break anyway! What's time but embellished with two gals and one handsome man?"

"No thanks, I have work to do. Too many sightings beside you two, which isn't really helping, to begin with". His back turns on them, prompting spinning back as more grassy steps close the gap.

His body, however, seems somewhat at ease, feeling its intrinsic awareness relaxed enough by the close up of the cleaver carrying orc approaching in a less-than-combative manner "Well, you're not exactly going to find anything on an empty stomach!"

"I'll manage". His retort is immediate.

"Ok, ok. How about this..." Her left hand reaches up to him, a daunting glare of confidence. Her second hand, on her hilt, waiting to draw upon her weapon. Avos can see it, a bit more alert "...you come and take a load off because I'm sure lodging that white on you is exhausting...and we come with you seeking out those shadows you speak of. How about it? I'm sure you'd prefer having two mountains by your side when you inevitably run in a den of those much more paltry of your kind."

The ax-wielding orc had her eye on the two, distracted enough to ignore the savory growls of her stomach yearning for more. Her interest in this deal seems to overtake this casual hunger. A sordid disappointment comes stringing to her.

"Hmm, no. No, I'll manage, you just make sure not to be spotted". He walks away for a second time, giving rise to their synchronized sighs, much more pronounced. He ignores them, his back turned on them, walking away. The cleaver orc returns to their humble noon eatery shooting shaken glances at the man. Their lips move, far too afar for Avos to overhead... --- Another week passes, once again, seeing Avos chasing shadows, near and far from the bridge. So often, accompanied by his sturdy and stubborn donkey, the carrier to everything he could need.

Everything, except prime opportunities to catch stragglers off guard, their 'fight or flight' compelling to flee deep in the forests whenever someone anywhere near as armored and armed as he was anywhere in the vicinity.

"I understand how frustrating it must be". The mayor had welcomed what increasingly sounded like a permanent settler to his modest village to his desk following another tale of shadows. Not the kind he had learned to recognize as orcs were quite rarely spotted nearby.

"It's the tenth time I see one of them scurrying about, and they bolt before I ever get the time to step their way".

"And wandering in would be ill-advised for the case of ambushes. Hmm..." The mayor spins to the view of his window, the reflection of Avos without arms dead center "Maybe I should assign a few to scout ahead, see if they can make out an approximate safety within the branches. In any case, I would like to ask you to keep vigilance. I'd rather not have reports of travelers and merchants being robbed and potentially assaulted by ruffians".

"Of course". Avos stands, bows, and departs. The week would be the same. Chasing shadows... --- Avos marches out from the village, a quick trip to the barracks in the dawn of morning. Walking out to his pre-selected path, the guard of the bridge steps forth toward his tower as today had no whispers of unsavory individuals teeming the edge of the forest's entrance.

Or, he thought he would...

Midway in a path he so often stopped, a voice called out to him "Hey, handsome!" prompting a swift turn to the sound of the voice.

Twins affiliated in different hairstyles. Clothes seemingly more adorned to compliment their feminity as opposed to masking it. The ax carrier waves in his way, holding the truly massive weapon with no strain felt "Over here, quickly!"

"Wha-

"Come on, hurry!" Her sister shouts, beckoning "We have something for you!"

"Wha--no. This is too soon for dinner".

"Gah, forget dinner! We've got something that will get your willy happy! Come over here!"

"Sorry ladies, I'm busy". Avos shakes his head and walks. Or, he would have...if not for his donkey, taking on a stroke of stubbornness. The grass was looking rather appetizing right now "Aw, come on, not now! There's grass near the tower!"

"I guess you don't want them, bandits, out of your hair, then?!" An astute grin from the ax carrier, sure to have caught his attention like the bite of a fish from bait.

"...what?"

"Yea, we know where those boring little men are hiding. We can lead you in. Hell, we'll accompany you...in one condition".

Avos looks around. It seems his donkey now lost interest in grass, looking up to his master. A certain glint in his eyes. Triumph?

"Sure, I can get you more to eat", he shrugs. An afternoon hungry isn't a bad payoff in comparison to the opportunity of cleaning house...or, well, the forest.

"Good proposition, but, we want more". The cleaver orc wags her finger around, grinning equally as her sister, locking sight at the approaching man, his spear on his back.

"What, dessert?"

"Good guess, but nope!" The ax orc approaches him, clarifying the equal height between them. Perhaps his helmet made him slightly taller than the muscle-bound woman, but nothing more. She leans, a longing stare "We'd rather not have our kind cook walk so exhausted after yet another famished afternoon. We'd enjoy his company when noon comes about".

"Yes, eating such delicious grub would be enhanced with the sweet man who so generously hands it to us. Make for a swell conversation, especially after what sounds like a good fight". The cleaving orc adds her piece, watching with intent.

"Indeed, I'd like us to get to know each other more closely. And hey! You get to do your job with a mighty filled tummy, hmm? What say you?"

Avos scratches his head. Well, he attempted to, forgetting the helmet hinged around his head. Part of him pondered their intention. Why try to lure him in a campfire squat every week? At the same time, however, they know he is capable to defend himself. At least enough to spot a fleeing window. Their body language acknowledged the latter, looking moderately relaxed. Expressions leaning more on the side of longing rather than guile.

At the end of the day, prevent any of his fellow guards or citizens from robbery would be a win for him "Sure, I guess. If your claim is true, then I'm up for a trio eatery".

"Good to know you have a sturdy mind to see an opportunity laid before you! Come on, I've been itching to stretch my legs!" The ax orc walks off, her sister lurking beside Avos, a slight bump on his shoulder.

"Yes, come! I'm already salivating at the prospect of what you have for dinner!"

"Sure, lead the way". Avos begins running, leaving his donkey as it sits, content to wait for their return--"Actually, a second".

The drifter turned guard runs back to his companion, pulling out a set of iron ropes from one of the innumerable pockets on the donkey's back. He promptly darts within the forest, catching up to the two.

Just like an outside look to the vibrant forests, looking from within gave a breath-taking view of the leaves' dance. Winter would have much to offer for sight-gazers.

Avos wasn't here for that, not that he could remove his eyes from the orcs running ahead. Even in action, their feminity tethered into them as strong as the plates on his body. Thinking beyond their rather...direct speaking patterns had him wonder why he was thinking of that right now.

He shakes his head as the duo stops near a cavern. The cleaver carrying orc pulls out her weapon and approaches the entrance, a strong wack to the amalgam of rocks and pebbles. An echo resonates within, speaking of the depths.

"The losers you want are here and many other holes like this", she turns back to Avos, her cleaver on the shoulders.

"Yea, they love running here. None of them are any sort of fighter, from what we've seen. They do have decent numbers, however". The second one states her part, lifting the dual-handed ax "Good thing we offered to come along, yea?"

"Yea, definitively. I can already smell the tasty meat at the end of this ordeal".

"Hmm". Avos takes a step inside, welcomed to hushed voices. Male voice. rough voices. No human with a sense of yearning for a comfy bed would willingly hide in a cave. Not unless they had things to hide "Yea, bandits. Ok, then".

"Right? So, a brawl, is it? Here, they can't really run, not unless they want to lose their precious little cargo". The ax orc lifts her weapon, looking to Avos as he prompts his sword.

"Hey, that's pretty smart, eh? Can't swing a spear in tiny corners like this!" She turns back, teeming with excitement as the voices grow larger, seemingly aware of her and her sister's, the two uncaring of how loudly their tones resonated.

Haunted faces smeared over the twenty bandits who made their way from the depth of the caverns, masked in glimmering jewels and exotic items, stolen in their entirety.

"What the hell?! The hell are orcs doing here?!" One of them shouts, the glimmer of his dagger reflecting the light of the many makeshift torches hung on the walls.

Their surprise turns to further bewilderment as one of them spots Avos at the back, his own silver blade betraying his presence, a concert among the cleaver and ax "And a guard from the--this is a hit that village, huh?! Want to get our hard-stolen loot huh?"

His words spur the rest of his ilk, the reflections ramping in the bare as they all draw their blades, the overwhelming of them, unsurprisingly incapable of maintaining metal and sharpness. Rust claimed their blade over use, mattering so little to them. They have spotted what was to be their next victim, a hated guard cutting much of their work and supply raids. A thorn on their side.

Today of all today was to have worse visit them, the first step of the first one, drawing upon his murderous intent...slammed against the wall. A large gash on his body and arms, bleeding a pure blue as smoke-like ether. His mana had been preferred for the orc's ax over his blood, drinking in the essence in excess.

One blow saw fit to render the bandit unfit for combat, overwhelmed so easily. Blinded by their engrossed number, the rest leaps toward the twins, unable to conceive their defeat despite their surroundings.

Avos himself was taken back at how rapidly she had knocked him defenseless, unable to move for the next hour. He is dazzled by their surprising dexterity. No swing wasted. No movement lost. Each stroke claims a bandit, their stamina bleeding out in excess.

He was entangled by their forms, forced to recognize the feminity that befits them. Dance of violence he barely could follow, their victims, much less. None of them survive the first and only stroke. And neither capable of retaliating.

This display of rough elegance shines the epiphany of fluke to his side "Yea...never would have been able to defeat them in proper combat...then why seek me so?"

"Huh, you said something?" The cleaving orc spins to his direction, her cleaver forcefully buried at the tip to the rocky surface. Her sister prods around, seemingly looking over the value of those they defeated, their pockets. A right of conquest in their kind's edicts. Yet, the gleam and valuable adorning the ruffians purchased no interest in her eye, looking down at them with no more than disappointment "Man, these tossers are as weepy as ever. Didn't even break a sweat!"

Looking back to Avos sees her demeanor shift to a more welcoming expression, the faintest sense of recognition, one he couldn't feel "No, no, nothing. I was just mumbling".

"Impressed with our little choreography, huh? I'd be too!" She mimics her sister and fully turns to him, her wanton change in display. A fierce grin, returned in force, double by her sister. Anticipation trails on their lips "Come on! Tie them or something! We have no use for them! Then, you can call more of your buddies and we can finally have that dinner!"

No use for them? "Hum...sure...sure". Avos approaches one of the fallen, faces mired in exhaustion, not unlike a man parched for water. Every time is the same: he kneels to fold a bandit's arms, and the poor fellow's head is kept at the low by either orc. Apparently didn't feel like hearing the downed ruffian struggle.

Or perhaps they were in a hurry to fill their stomachs following this forceful invasion of a hole "Are you done yet?! I'm getting hungry no thanks to these posers!"

"Well, this is the last one". Avos forcefully pulls the cord on the last of his binds, spurning a pained grunt from the bandit. Iron rope, for all of them. Even waking up, they wouldn't be shattering the binds as easily as his temporary benefactors.

Benefactors all too eager to remind him of their deal "Ok, cool, you can call your buddies later. We're hungry!" The ax orc straddles right outside, her sister took to plant her grasp on Avos' shoulders, sharing in the enthusiasm.

"We filled our end, now it's your turn~. Her tone is an unexpected delicacy, if not for the fact that he was going to lose his dinner tot heir voracious stomachs once again. He moves from her grasp and picks up the pace, passing across even the first one. Grins on their faces, they follow.

Follow him all the way back to the tiny spot just at the precipice of the forest, a hurried walk back. "We'll be waiting right here, handsome~, the cleaving orc slumps down on the bulk of a tree, waving at him.

"Don't make us wait, now. We're just starving for some..." Avos moves away, snuffed from the last of her words. His mind already devised the desire they had to bite into his noon dinner.

He comes back moments later, brochettes by the dozen. Meats of diversity in shapes, all woven from the same animal. The twins' eyes widen in joy, hopping close, their nostrils against the plastic container "Oh, oh, oh, our feeder is spoiling us again!"

"That he is!" The cleaving orc looks up to Avos's risen eyebrows behind the helmet, a sultry gaze to move her lips "Especially now that today is a feast for three~.

"Huh?" Avos seems to have forgotten today's deal. A deal she is all quick to remind him, ever-smiling.

"Hey now, you were already going to eat anyway, right? Well, with that agreement between us, you're not going starving for the afternoon!"

"Wait...you were serious with that? You know that means less 'grub' for you, right? I'm not exactly a light eater considering the nature of my job". Avos had set up the brochettes to roast, tempted to a turn away. He does, looking away from the cleaver orc...

...straight into the grin of her sister, arms crossed "Don't you worry about that, handsome. We're more than capable of sharing. You just stick around and relax..."

"Hey now..." Avos places a hand on the pommel of his sword, contradiction feuding in his psyche. His thought wanted to spring his 'fight or flight' instincts, approaches so closely by a woman with no qualm or difficulty about wearing down dozens. His body thought otherwise, sensing no real danger.

An argument made more convincing as her sister came about behind him, hands on his shoulders "She's not wrong. We may be hungry, but not enough to deny our kind feeder his share. Especially as we've been dying to bring him along".

"Yes, dying for proper introductions..." The frontal orc now tethers on mere centimeters, sandwiching the guard between the twins, further compelling.

"To get so close..."

"To know him deeply..."

"Surely he wouldn't deny sweet gals of humble wishes?"

"Not after they went out of their way to help him?"

"In exchange for a simple company?"

"Just a moment...~ Their breath intertwine in the middle, pouring on his helmet. Words of requests. Appeals to an unsigned agreement between the three. It was delirious to hear, so close. To feel, mere inches from his face, the metal encased on his head, his only safeguard. Tempting, inviting to more...?

"Ok, ok! Fine, I'll stick around." Avos felt himself falter somewhat. Voices of women calling to him, his virility in a way he was soundly inexperienced. And surprised. Mostly from his first impression of them as thoughtless brutes.

"Alright! Come! That stuff you make is really wicked!" The cleaver-bearer prompting takes his hand off the pommel of his sword, instead, dragging him in the forest where he usually installed the magic campfire, her sister, following in a quiet victory glare.

Here, they sit, the flaming roast burning the incense of spice. The twins had taken to sit close to the drifter. Really close, each coiling an arm around his, slowly savoring the labor of today's cooking.

"Go on! It's dinner for three!" Each with a brochette, they plant on around his grasp. Avos's helmet idles on the bulk of a fallen tree, leaving him with no layer against the elements. Or the food to his teeth.

They spend the time prodding him with questions, smelling the traveling nature of his upbringing since their less favorable first impression. Their curiosity overtakes their hunger.

Hence, he speaks. Speaks of his homeland from which he hails. His departure, born from the thirst of traveling.

"Well, you're not going to find any grand adventure here, buddy", comments the ax-wielding orc, biting in her last brochette, swallowing everything in one go.

"Hmm, hm. There's nothing more than bandits, exotic fruits and a breath-taking view of the forest's backyard". Her sister nods, having long filled herself "I'd say it's still not bad, all in all".

"Very aware. I mean, the Wheat Tops isn't a name inspires anything out of the mundane. But, yeah, I've been here for about a year. Guess I sought out a quiet place to stand on. Kinda like home". Avos looks to the horizon, legions of brown catching his sight in soils of sanguine and amber, a precipice to a coat of white soon enough.

He nods and gets himself up "That was a fine moment to spend. However, I've got to go now. Can't leave the bridge unguarded".

"Yea, we gotta do this again soon!"

"Definitively!" They mount their feet with certainty, invigorated by the art of idling for close to an hour. Stretching and grunting, they notice the man's departure, turning sideways for a small wave.

"We'll see". Avos enjoyed his time. He truly did, finding them to be, once again, much less of a hassle than he expected. However, wandering off to them just for the goal of spilling out his mundane traveling wasn't in his priorities. Nothing that would get them any more interested. Supernatural creatures capable of battling ten men at the least. Why would they want to hear about a man going places with his donkey?

"Oh, don't worry. We ARE doing this again, handsome. Very soon. Avilis and Dori know a good time when they see one".

"Hmm, hm. And we have just the excuse for..." Out of their range, out of their voice, Avos walks away. He would have to wait the evening to spill the beans of bandits wrapped up and waiting to be brought to imprisonment.

However, while he walked past the twins, the ax bearer, Avilis, mentioned 'doing this again'. He didn't believe it, let alone so soon. They would have to pull quite the excuse to sit him down... --- "Huh?" Straight from his bed, far from barracks, excess gold piled within his locker from yesterday's affair, Avos walks straight into twin shadows. With a few words he didn't expect to hear today "...what?"

"Hey, handsome, we have another of those boring bandit holes where they huddle in". Doris, the cleaver bearing orc scratches her chin "That is what I said".

"Ok, that's...that interesting to know". The mayor apparently enjoyed very much the news of a group of bandits being dragged off to their secluded prisons for trial. Here and potentially, elsewhere, should another city make a claim. Gave Avos a hefty bonus, promising him more should he decide to bring his bold with him.

"Yep! And we thought 'hmm, who would like knowing and apprehending these sods in bondage? Ohh, I know, the kind man who gives us such good grub'~.

"So you just waited for me to step out of bed for more food? You know, at this point, I would have given it to you if you asked". Avos made extra, a necessary precaution that his mule friend carries.

"Oh, no, no, no. We want better". Doris rubs her hands together "Grub tastes so much better when you're got the handsome man responsible for it at a hair's distance~.

"Oh yes~. Avilis piles on her sister's comment "So, we have a proposition for you. We bring you to one of the many holes congregating them in the many. We get a much as good fight as we can out of the brittle bones. And in exchange, we get more of our handsome man over here..." Her hand stretches out, reaching and patting on Avos's shoulder, a wink and a smirk to perfume the tone of her voice.

He shrugs "Sure, I guess. If you can bring me to more of them. Although..." The last of his mind trails off, a ponder unimportant for the moment.

"Alright then! Come along! I can always use a peeper to watch me flatten some cave-dwelling losers!" Doris runs off, aware of her sister taking Avos along by the arm, faint laughter as they go about.

On and on, the cycle repeats. They teem a hole dangerous to the unprepared as shimmers and slashing resonations of blades slip along rough tones. Surprise, then anger toward the only Wheat guard, so often deluded to their chance of defeating the two warrior-bound orcs.

Hands bounds and mouths gagged, they become victims to the imminent night patrol who will by they have heard of another clear bandit cavern. All the while the noon steps in, seeing Avos sitting down to whatever dish he has prepared for today, counting stories of his traveling to the twins, Avilis and Doris.

Ears flared in interest listening really close, each time, an increase in closeness from the twins. Each day, a repeat of the cycle.

Day after day.

Week after week.

Month after month... --- Friday was to be his last day of work "Sheesh. Friday evening at last. Never would I have known that tying bandits like sausages would be so much work..."

He sits by the tower's top, counting the minutes before he would be free to exit, likely meeting the night watcher midway. As it comes closer and closer, Avos begins packing up. The eatery in the basement, cleaned up. Watching space and all, tidy up for his weekend.

He marches, bringing along his mobile supply fortress, ever the slow animal, waving at the night watcher crossing his path "Hey drifter. Hitting the sack?"

"Yep. Two days of laziness".

"Aye. You take a load off, alright. Those bandits you've beaten must have taken a bit from you".

"No kidding, they did". They continue, each going their own way. One which's night was his beginning. The other, his end.

Or almost...

"Hey handsome, going to sleep?~ A familiar voice divided into two shadows, threading so close to the bridge where he usually walked. He recognized them, seeing their crawl so often at the edge of the forest.

"Hmm? Yea. Today's the weekend. And I'm spent anyway. So, I guess we'll see each other next week if there are more of them hiding". Avos takes a lighter step around them. Being so close to them no longer sported any true sense of wariness, much less with them no more looking to make any fallacious movement towards him. In fact, they seemed more endearing to him as noticed by how observant they were in their co-joined dinner.

That unseen endeavor surfaces again as Avilis takes a step closer "Tired, huh? We can deal with that. Our kind cook deserves good rest".

"Yes, he does. Two days without seeing each other has been nothing but a bore anyway. The other men we come across aren't as fun anyway. So, for this week, you're coming with us".

"Yea, no, I need a bath to dip in. And a night snack. And a bed to slump in. And a--hey, why are you creeping so closely--" Avos takes a step back, counteracting Avilis' forward step. The luscious pink eyes she so often flares in ferocity like her sister are dwindled, replaced by an unashamed glint of devotion. To a man with experience around women, it would be the glint a wife would shower her half with.

Avos had no such percepts, instead, confused at the sight she was offering him, unable to notice Doris stepping behind him, honed in the same gaze. A yearning now stirring as she puts her hands on his shoulders "Hey now, no need to be so tense. We simply want to ease our kind, kind man~.

"Well, you're not exactly reaching that milestone with how you two are sandwiching me and--hey, hey what are you-mmm..."

Sisters share everything. They also work together. His attention diverted to Doris's sudden interjection into the accolade, Avilis had ample time to pluck away his helmet, rapidly and securely anchoring it to his belt before...

Hands coiled around his nape, the orc's full feminity stood out, a brilliant pink luscious pair of lips parting and sealing his in an aromatic kiss. Any complaint or struggle burned away in this tidal melt of sweet and spice, their natural taste and their persistence on meat-based dishes. Or, they went for whatever dinner he had to present to them over what they hunted.

Regardless, the bits of feelings gestating in Avilis's mind cumulates and spills all over the lone man, enchanted by the soft, yet passionate exchange. Doris, standing closely behind, felt wanting, longing for this simple and fierce spark, waiting, waiting...

"Hah...hah, ohh, this is..." Avilis finally and reluctantly moves inches from the gasping man, unknowing of his hands grasping her waist close, taken back by this impromptu thievery.

"What was...why does it feel so..." Her taste dances on his tongue, much more than the mere release some monsters have been told to impulsively act upon. It felt right...

And would feel even more right as the enchanted cleaver bearer looked to her sister ~Sister, your turn. You have to try this~.

~I am, scoot over~. The sisters switch spots, their hair differencing each from the other. Doris now stood in front of the man, making sure to capture as much as she can. His hands on her hips, her hands on his nape, her eyepatch, momentarily displaced.

"Wait, what--" Another pair of sweetened lips seal him again, once more, teasing the hint of spice at the background. Her pink pigment could barely conceal the crimson tides flowing across her cheeks, even rushing to the very tip of her porky ears, surrounded by a violet jungle of a leaping ponytail, a variant of her sister's short hair.

Moving with great uncertainty too, Doris gasps in delight, her hands bonding with her sister's, the latter, returned to the man's back ~Sister, his taste...~

~I know, it feels so right, so tasty~. Fingers moving apart, they try their pitch again, undivided attention to the head-shaken Wheat guard. Their arms swirl and coil around his armored torso, clinging close.

~You must have felt like we did~ Avilis takes to the charge, whispering delightfully to his ear ~This is our gratitude. We want to offer you what you gave us~.

~A weekend would be too long for us to return the favor. It'd be too boring with the rest and their incessant gloating~.

~It would. Please, come with us. We promise to make this a fruitful rest. Better than staying in a dusty ol' motel, right? Alongside two porks so...eager to serve~.

"Tempting as it would be..." Avos still was in grip over the double smooth, unable to speak coherently. To say that his first taste of monsters had convinced him was an understatement. He was...deeply snared by their blunt convey of affection. "...my companion is still..."

Close to his ear, more than willing to soothe him, Avilis whispers sugary syllables "Don't worry about it. I can help that stubborn mule back to its quarters".

~In the meanwhile, why don't we get our kind man seated in?~ Doris's suggestion comes with no respite, her hands now joining Avos' palms, luring him deep into the slow glow of the forest, rumored to have wisps teeming about int he depth of the night. Like a moth attracted to the innumerable tiny specs of light, she continues, an everlasting grin merging a smirk and smile, ever deeper, the shadows welcoming him... --- "Hmm, a little more quaint than I expected". Avos had made his way through the more exotic trees, white bulks, and cobalt leaves, dressing up in mystacal manners for a picturesque winter long to come, dotted in cold but mild winds and the gentle fall of snow. The Wheat tops had no worries for a tempest of harsh winter, the proximity to the summer solstice denying the worst of the cold triad.

He stood within a domain reminiscent of a home, one ramshackle in the depth of a cave as the forest featured many of those. Little more than sleeping bags of leather, basic furniture, and kitchen equipment were available to him, as well as a man-size cauldron where they bathed, rusted. Definitively not the definition of relaxation to city folks.

"Yea, sorry about that. We're not really big in the luxury department. Not a big change at home", Doris places her hands behind her. Now that they had a man at their hunting grounds, him seeing their improvised shack brought a bit of embarrassment from the twins. They promised him better than what was back at his motel.

"Eh, don't worry about it. That bounce in finance is only recent, I still live in moderation. You helped me plenty, so, who not? I'm up for making the best of it". Avos began stripping himself off his armor. The bonus he incurred from the holes he cleared up in the forest allowed him to legally purchase his gear, a possibility he owed to them. Why not indulge with them for this weekend?

"Yea...yea! Hold on, let me make you a hot bath before sleep!" Avilis promptly storms outside, looking to gather water and hot coal while her sister went to undress in a more moderate outfit. Which is to say, removing the little metal plating on her body. Their resilience gave them plenty of excuses to wear little.

A rather unexpected sight. How little armor could make a difference, Avos didn't bother to respond, his mind tethered to the rambunctious feminity of his host, unashamed of displaying herself in the process.

Gazing as he was, Doris quickly caught him. A grin stretches her lips, her hands placed behind as to give him full view "Ohh? Enjoying the view, hmm?" Her upper chest slightly shakes left to right, a sway of a strong back moving her ample cleavage further in jiggles.

The kiss they planted on him had opened his mind to what they truly were: women. Women who happened to have hog ears and a slightly more pink pigment than humans. But women never the less. He gazes, enthralled, hypnotized by the sight, gleaming behind the nascent moonlight.

He shakes his head, a sense of remorse for openly staring, eyes now drifting away. Doris didn't shake that sentiment, a pout at his look away from her. But digressing on "I'll fetch some good sheet for you to hit the sack".

She moves away, leaving him time to properly dispose of his armor in a corner, leaving his civilian cloth underneath. He takes a walk around while the two busy themselves. A short walk, looking over the rustic atmosphere. The table. The counter. Utensils and bowls, plain. Unsurprising. It didn't diminish him in the least. In fact, with how his mind was longing for a permanent stay at the Wheat Tops, he thought to periodically refurbish their humble domain.

This thought dissipates as Avilis comes, equally removed from what little in metal and harness she wore as armor "Hey handsome, the bath's ready. Come on in while its warm~. --- The weekend went about as well as he expected. Which is to say, a surprisingly relaxing off time. Despite the thin sheets, despite the bare bone furniture, despite it all, Avos couldn't be any more relaxed by what many would see as a splintering place to stay at. Having two warrior orcs catering to his every whim even in modest protests was a boon he couldn't get enough of.

Their attempt at giving him back dishes, a very fond thought. Aimless walks amidst the forest and its countless rivers and fruits, a sight to pay for. All ever in the company of gals he was gradually falling for. This and...

~Hey handsome, mind coming here for a moment?~ One, or the other, beckoning to him outside or indoors. A lure to spill their ongoing affection by a seal of lips. One, basking in the taste of a man embracing her in hot breaths. The other, waiting for her turn to exchange fragrance and tongues. Never one without the other... --- "So, this is it? You're leaving?" The mayor spins from the window view to Avos holding his helmet by the arm. A tone of disappointment from the curly mustache man.

The ex-drifter shakes his head "Well, no. I really don't want to. Always thought of making a place for myself here and, this job is a fine one".

"Really? But, you just came here announcing your resignation".

"Yes. I did. I'm honestly not sure of the policies speaking of orcs near the places and, with the situation I've been dug in, well..." His mind recalls the end of the weekend. A myriad of sights and sensations. Classic as they are breathtaking. And the somewhat dour looks on Avilis and Doris, feeling the same.

Both of them, masquerading as his willing servants, willing to cater to his whim. Permanently. If only he came to the depth of the forest with them. To live with them, allow them unbridled showers of affection. Love at its most blunt for warriors. And, frankly, with a preview he was given, going back to his motel, even a house in the Wheat Tops would be underwhelming to him. Even dull.

"Ahh, I see. One of them went in and claimed you. And now, you want to live among them". The mayor twirls his mustache, the disappointment on his warm tone receding. Almost expecting that.

"Well...'claimed' is a strong word. But, yes. They have offered sincere wants to see me join them, and--

"Well, why didn't they just come here?" He interrupts.

"...what?"

"Why didn't your orcish companion just ask? Or companions? I would be more than happy to accommodate them with one of our esteemed guards".

"Wait, wait, wait..." Avos places a hand in front, caught off by this sudden twist "You're saying this as if others went through the same process".

"They did. By the dozens", the mayor flat-out says, a confident stare "They still work for us. Often come to get some proper supplies".

"What?"

"So many touching tales of men falling for the rustic charms of these otherworldly women, no real reason for me to refuse them after so much commendable service. It was sort of an idea: with the added strength of the orcs, they could handle the more bold bands of bandits...and other undesirables. Kind of how you did. And, contrary to what you hear so often orcs are very much allowed in our fold, in temporary".

"Really?"

"Yes. Those who come accompanied by those they call their own are too unwilling to pounce or otherwise act on other men, making them just as law-abiding as any of our citizens, provided they stay close to the man who brought them here". The mayor steps off his chair, looking down one of his folders "Then again, I wouldn't expect you to see those wandering in with the spot where you watch".

"Ohh...that's...that's convenient". Avos scratches his head, unsure what to make of this sudden comprehension.

"Enough that we've decided to expend a few years ago. Now, if you would be willing to sign this... --- "Ohh, you're going to love it, handsome. It's a bit basic, but much more comfortable than the hunting shack~. Twice overjoyed at not only his very acceptance to make their home his permanent stay but that he would be switching posts as to accommodate for their proximity, the twins wasted no time eagerly guiding the man and his donkey mount deeper, much deeper into the forest.

The trees grow in number and vitality, far higher than those he grazed from the tower or from across the bridge. An add-on to catch his interest...later "Oh, yes, it's somewhat rough, but don't you worry about that. We will compensate~.

Faint blushes on their cheeks, the two continue on, the depths offering rare sightings. An empty building hidden amidst the trees, borrowing their bulk's colors and height. Avilis looks at it, her tone cutting her and her sister's gushing "A bit hard to spot them. I guess we know why, now".

They continue, now privy to faint voices. Avilis and Doris' ears perk up, showered in tones of laughter and 'entertainment' "So, the rest of the tribe is up as well".

"Already? I thought they would still be sleeping after yesterday". Doris sighs, a bit peeved at the decreasingly distant noise.

"I take it you're not too fond of others of your kind?" Avos dares ask, entombed in his new olive variant, another between the white of the day and the blue of the night. A forest touch.

"Not in that degree, but, let's just say that we can be...grabby when it comes to handsome men. Not us, but..." Avilis leaves her sentence unfinished, taking a more proactive stance. Avos can read her stance, having seen it many times in the dens of bandits. She expected a skirmish.

And so did Doris, the group finally stepping through the last trees to a village amidst the forest. Hidden from human civilization, the houses dress in soft material. Leather, wood, and silk over the sturdy bricks and metal from the Wheat Tops. Save for the wheat at the top of the roofs, inexistent here. Everything looked much less refined than his previous stay at inns.

But, the real catch to his eyes was the innumerable amount of orcs vacating to their hobbies and desires. Some were cleaning clothes. Others, many more, eating outside their houses, taking in the cool air. Most of them still rummaged inside, windows open for all to hear. Very explicit tones and moans dancing outside the windowless frames.

"So...I'm guessing that's where the so-called 'husbands' went". Avos looks to the direction of the noises. So many hear-say of men who went int he depths, claiming to have orcs as wives. he was now a direct witness to their veracity, although some had it a bit rougher than others. Nowhere near the case of abuse, and more across 'wild', as demonstrated by their choice of clothing and unkempt hair.

He sees some of them eating alongside one or many orcs, dressed in no more than loose-fitting pants and sheets, not unlike the women near them. Others, still are stretching, likely following strenuous activity, one he could only wince at.

"Oi, I see you two brought fresh meat". His eyes snap back to another of their kind, pieces of metal decorated asymmetrically over her body. The closest definition of armor looking more to show off her feminine features over protection. A grin looking over to the unconvinced man, something like the first time he collided with his two companions.

Avilis and Doris take on a huff, looking towards the interposer with wincing eyes, a wall of orc flesh between her and Avos. "Yes. And no. We brought him here. Out of his volition. But not for you to pick your teeth on, Laurie. Scram!"

"But you haven't 'tested' him yet. I'm more than willing to, see if he's anything good". Laurie takes a step closer, looking to loom over the guard now grappling his spear, a salivating expression from the newest face making a sour expression on him "And he's one of them guards, no less. Ohh, I hear they have quite the stamina. Nothing like the rabble I pick up from their manholes. Oh, come on, gals, surely I could get a taste of him at the very least? The others who came with exotic cuties like him wouldn't want me near them like sourpusses".

"Not happening, Laurie. He's ours to spoil...and get spoiled by. Helped him beat the losers that kept harassing this place out far from the wilds, ate with him and everything. We're not going to scorn the groove we have going because you're too lazy to bother spotting one for yourself!" Avos listens, hearing what sounds like orc banter. From what he understands, or would, later on, mates are a precious commodity among them and the mythical monsters. Emotional connections are a boon that they fought sternly for, at least, those who had a taste of its touch.

"Yea! We earned that handsome over here! You want to get some guy who's itching to give you some good grub or some tongue, get off your ass, and go get one!" Doris took to the front, her eyes locked with Laurie's.

"Oh, come on! You know how far that is?! No man worth their sturdiness would even bother wandering here!"

"I don't care! We went a day traveling here! You get no excuse, Laurie! Get off your mooching ass and go get one if you're so itching for more than a thirty-second pump! You don't get to mooch off another gal who managed to convince one to live here! Do you know how hard that is to do?!"

"Well--

"I don't care! Scram! You're not getting a piece of him anytime soon!" Doris plants her foot on the soil, huffing strongly. Hand on her great ax, she waits, a guarding stance alongside her sister, looking to deter the would-be thief to a man they brought here of his volition. Ruination they preferred avoiding, to lose his favor.

"Ugh...fine!" The disgruntled turns away, twin axes on her arms "I guess I'll just go grab another pean around! God, selfish broad that..." Her voice trails off, giving relief to the twins. Avilis turns to the somewhat confused man.

A small smile on her lips "I'm sorry for that, handsome, some gals want their cake without baking it".

"I...I can see that..."

"Yea, lots like you around are pretty scarce here. But don't you worry! We're always here! But anyway, come! We want to show you around real fast!"

"Oh, ok--hold on! I haven't gotten into running speed--" Doris takes Avos for a run, followed closely by Avilis. A pride to parade, a life to begin. New sights for the man, new sensations for the twins, all-too-eager to spill marital vows later down the line...