Mounting an Orc

“That sound can wait, tend to your armor first.”

Target > 35, 1d100 roll+2=15, failed suggestion (+1 virtue)

“You don't want your nightdress getting dirty in the coming fight. Better take it off.”

Target > 45, 1d100 roll+2=95, successful suggestion (+1 corruption)

“Fiends cum can be consumed to increase your resistance against their corrupting power.”

Target > 50, 1d100 roll+3=15, failed suggestion (+1 virtue)

Selphie Quimbane Corruption 3, Virtue 3

—

With her breastplate rusting in the stream and her helm filled with vile demon jizz, the only presentable garment left to Selphie is her sheer nightshirt that clings to her hips and breasts. She’ll need it later when she reports back to the Holy Temple of Helm to be debriefed by the High Priestess. Until then, she has to save it and keep it unsullied by demon blood, goblin spit, and orcish cum. Any monsters that lay their eyes on her form will be slain by her holy sword, so they may as well be carried to the heavens by righteous nakedness before they are banished to the Abyss by her judgement.

Selphie pulls her sheer nightshirt over her head and lets her breasts spill free in the sunlight of the meadow. She rolls it into her not quite safe, recently violated nook under the overhang. She then hefts her holy sword in the same sunlight that now shines on her radiant nude skin. The noises in the woods are becoming more violent.

“A paladin needs a noble steed, right? Let's find you something to ride.”

Target > 30, 1d100 roll+3=79, successful suggestion (+1 corruption)

Selphie Quimbane Corruption 4, Virtue 3

Selphie advances towards the violent chaos in the woods. Helm’s divine light fills her heart with certainty at her purpose. She has her sword and her virtue, but she lacks a mount. The old goblin warrens are a day’s ride away.

No sooner does she think of her need for a mount when she sees the gleaming silver of a unicorn’s horn encircled by orcs. The unicorn brings down its silver hooves again and again, slaying orcish warriors, until at last there is but one orcish brute facing the bloodied celestial beast. Selphie charges in to save the unicorn, but she is too late. The orcish brute brings down his scimitar on the unicorn, sending its soul back to the Divine Realm. All Selphie can do is swing wide with her greatsword and disarm the brute.

The orc lifts his hands in surrender. “By Gruumsh, you are a worthy warrioress. I am disarmed and defeated. Slay me now, paladin, and do what that unicorn could not.”

Selphie ignores his invitation, as well as the giant green dick swinging behind his crude loincloth. “What is your name, orc?”

“Marduk.”

Selphie holds her sword with righteous certainty but speaks softly. “I require a ride to the old goblin warrens. Kneel, orc, and I will ride your back today.”

Marduk laughs. “Would you not rather ride my front, paladin? I would mash those teats and sire whelps on you if riding is what you want.”

Selphie brings her sword to the orc’s sinewy neck. She cannot admit the effect of his words on her nude body. “Kneel, and I will ride your back.”

Marduk kneels, and Selphie climbs on his powerful back. When he stands and runs with her mounted on his back, the tree branches whip at her. She endures. She is a Holy Paladin of Helm.

A circle of stones tended by hooded cultists stands ahead. She tugs on Marduk’s warrior braid to slow him down.

Comment a suggestion from the voice for Selphie.