Alia the Dune Maiden

You awake in a sea of sand beneath a dazzling sea of stars. Looking yourself over you see your chocolate colored skin and a few strands of black hair that swing into your eyes that you swipe away with your new dainty hand. You are dressed in a simple linen dress that reaches down to your ankles, and that your breasts and perky nipples are currently straining against, and a pair of leather sandals.

You feel a piece of parchment rustling between your breasts, forcing you to reach into your dress give a wonderful show to your non-existent audience. It's a letter that reads:

Dear Alia (Yes, that's you),

You're probably wondering how you ended up in the middle of the desert. Well, your generals and wives were scared of selling you off someplace close, lest you come for ****. So, I was **** to ship you off to the middle of Kathib. You remember this place, right? The nation that sits at the forefront of your southern front, I believe you borrowed the idea of a harem from them. Regardless I'd avoid mentioning your former identity to them, at best they think you mad, at worst you won't be around much longer.

Sincerely,

Kanlara the Apothecary

Frustrated, you toss the parchment to the sand behind you and shakily rise to your feet. To your left you can see a caravan that's stopped for the night and to your left you can see the torchlight of a watch for a village.