Not what Hilda was hoping for...

Hilda comes to with a groan. She's cold and aches all over. Her mouth feels dry, her muscles are stiff, and there's some kind of obnoxious, rthymic pounding coming from... somewhere?

Hilda has never been a morning person, so it takes her a while to realize she isn't in her nice, comfy bed.

"Where am I?" She croaks as she looks around and shivers. She's in a dim, dank room, with stone walls, a stone floor, no furniture, and a heavy steel-bar gate door.

"I... am I in jail?!" The worried woman muses aloud.

Hilda runs her hands along her shoulders to try to warm up, when she realizes she's not wearing a shirt!

She squeaks in embarrassment as her cheeks blush, and her memories of yesterday coming flooding back; her disasterous quest, the harpies, the baron, the village, and... that orc!

Another wave of shame washes over her as she remembers EVERYTHING and despairs.

"Oh gods," Hilda sniffles. "I... I'm ruined!"

She cradles her face in her hands and whimpers, but her self-pity party is cut short by a sadly familiar voice.

"Stop crying! You're ruining the mood out here!" Clara barks. Soon the burly orc woman is at the cell door. Her hair is down, framing her sexy face, and she's wearing a surprisingly frilly, hot-pink bathrobe.

The garment is obviously too small for the big, green gal, further emphasizing her imposing frame in an unintentionally erotic way as her beautiful breasts struggle to escape from their silky garment.

"Wh-what's going on? Where's the Baron? Why am I in here?!" Hilda demands as she stands up on wobbly legs and goes to the cell door.

That's when she feels a heavy wait around her waist. The woman looks down at herself and gasps.