Meeting Berus

Miri and Dazar ate in silence, demolishing the tasty stew, while Jax the bard played a concert beyond them. Scraping the bottom of the bowl, Miri looked up and watched as an orc approached.

The male wore a dark sleeveless tunic, dark trousers, and thick brown hiking boots. As he got closer, Miri swallowed. His green orc arms were crisscrossed with seemingly endless cuts. Miri couldn’t ascertain any tusks, but his strong jawline was covered in a thick black handlebar mustache that, paired with his wild windswept mane of hair, gave him an ape-like appearance. He was tall, having to stoop around some lower hanging lanterns.

“Hail and fair weather, Dazar!” He called out. His voice naturally deep, it rumbled Miri’s chest nearly five feet away.

“Hail and fair weather, Berus!” Dazar responded, standing up and clasping the orc’s outstretched forearm. “Come, meet my apprentice, Miriamelle. Miri, this is Berus Longsplitter, nephew to my first apprentice.”

“Pleasure, my lady.” Berus smiled, grabbing hold of Miri’s hand.

“N-nice to meet you,” she responded, standing out of politeness. He truly did stand tall over her; Miri stood six foot even, but had to crane her neck at him or risk staring at his vest-covered nipples. She noticed he smelled heavily of rose cologne.

Holding onto her comparably dainty wrist, he bent down and kissed it, “If there is anything I or my staff can do to, to make your stay here more enjoyable, please let us know.”

Miri’s heart fluttered at the casual masculinity this male exuded. She couldn’t place it, but his very presence made her hyper aware that she walked in panty-less.

“Tina, could you show Miri where her room and the bathroom is? I have some business to quickly discuss with Dazar,” Berus commanded gently. Dazar nodded in agreement.

“Miri, remember, you can trust the people who work here. Before I forget…” He reached into his pocket and handed her a coin purse, “besides one gold, pay me back when you can. Think of it as an advance to properly outfit yourself.”

They hugged goodbye and Miri was led away and shown her room and the bathroom. Perhaps it was the mead, perhaps her own natural hormones, but Miri couldn’t keep her eyes off the short girls’ swaying buttocks in front of her. She nearly tripped over her own feet on the stairs.

“You can look, but don’t touch,” Tina put her hands on her hips at the top of the stairs. “I enjoy it. My husband wouldn’t though. He’s a bit possessive of me.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” Miri blushed.

“It’s OK. FYI, I’m a hobbit, not a child. I’m twenty-five and have two kids.” Tina rolled her eyes, continuing, “I’m short, and I look young, the conversation already goes there.”

“Well, in my defense, you’re cute, and you wear that innocent look well,” Miri bit her lip.

“Thanks, hon. Anyhow, you’re room 313. Bath house is out the back door and across the street.” Tina handed Miri a key and headed back down the stairs, gently brushing past the tall girl.