Devout follower and her path

A young woman was riding a donkey on a dusty road. Her name was Freya, she was a devoted follower of the Goddess of Love and she was on a mission. The diety came to Freya in her sleep and gave the devotee the most unusual order.

She was ordered to travel to the lands of orcs and willingly become a wife of one of the chieftains of one of the local tribes. Barosh... His name was the only thing she knew about him. Being a loyal and faithful servant, Freya decided to follow the order, and yet she had little hope for success.

The rider and her not so noble mount approached the border. Local human kingdom was at unease peace with the tribes residing in the Yellow Steppe but it didn't mean that traveling into their lands was a good idea.

Freya was wearing a cloak, a long-sleeved shirt, and pants. All seemingly designed to hide as much of her skin as possible. There were two reasons for that. The first one was to protect her pale skin. She spent most of her life indoors and the sun wasn't her friend. The other reason was more sinister. Freya didn't want to look attractive in eyes of men. Else, else she could become some orc's plaything long before she was allowed to see the chieftain.

Her clothes were rather loose and hid her curves well. Hood protected her raven hair not only from the wind but also from the gaze of any man who might happen to look upon it. Her black locks were long enough to reach her slender shoulders and they made her pale face seem even paler. Despite her clothes hiding her feminine features, eyes alone would be enough to tell that Freya was a female. Her large eyes were of pleasant grey color and they were filled with intelligence and curiosity. Her nose was small and delicate like a spring flower but her lips were full and plump and were the most attractive part of her face in the eyes of an average orc. Any male orc would love to violate her soft human mouth devoid of sharp fangs possessed by orcish women.

Trying to not think about the future, Freya rode with on her trusty steed forwards. Soon she approached a small stream, it was the border. There were no border guards or any signal but human laws had no power on the other side of this shallow stream. No one would come to her aid. It was her last chance to turn around and come back.