The redheaded barmaid

You look up to see the face of the pretty, redheaded barmaid. She shares a dazzling smile with you, "I'm Lyanna, sir, but you can call me Lynn." Her dress is torn at the top, leaving her full and cum coated breasts to swing freely. There is different colored thread on both sides of the rip, as if it had been torn apart and repaired at the same spot over and over. Her dress is held up by a pin at the back, leaving her large rear end exposed as well. Around her waist is a white apron which you see the other barmaids use to clean off their faces and lower parts after each customer. You can't say if the apron started out white or not. "Mind if a take a seat?"

Well, you can't say no to that. You pat your lap which she sits on, throwing her arm around your shoulder for balance. Across the bar you hear some other patrons grumble about how noblemen always steal the best women away for themselves, which you ignore. "How can I help you sweetheart?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation you had with that young boy," she begins. Doubtless she was eavesdropping, but you let her continue. "And I was thinking, wouldn't it be better to have two women along on your little adventure?"

"Hmmm," you reply unconvinced.

"And I wouldn't be alone," she rushes to add. "My two half-brothers would also like to come," she points at two identical hulking brutes sitting down at a table. "They are very strong and experienced fighters." You don't doubt that. Both of them look like they could crush a man's skull with their bare hands.

"And why would a pretty little thing like you want to leave this comort for a life of danger and sleeping in the mud?"

"I've lived here in Velberg all my life. I spend more time in this tavern than I do in my own home serving men with pitiful cocks who shoot their pathetic loads after two pumps. I want more. I want adventure. I want money. I want men who want to use a woman for more than thirty seconds." She glances back at the two brutes. "Besides my brothers of course." Lynn whispers into your ear, "Many people say their father was a troll. Mama would never confirm it, though, but she also never denied it." She smirks. Looking at them again, you can definitely see some trollish features besides just their large size.

"And what if you simply wish to escape once you're outside our borders?" you challenge her.

"Well, I could give you my word, but I suppose that doesn't mean much to you. What I can tell you is that my brothers love me. They would miss me too much to let me run away." Though you are inclined to believe her, there is some doubt in her mind that she is telling the truth.