Westfall

Across the slopes of deadwind pass, and through the eternal dark that was Duskwood, the toad hunter went unseen and unchallenged. It idled at the settlement, seeing paranoid humans huddled together, assaulted at various ends by undead things, wolves, spiders... while it watched several potential mates, the activity here was risky, and it was always on alert. There were settlements to be sure, but undead things had taken the lion share of it, forcing the creature to move on. Westward, across the dark, avoiding the lighter shades of Elwyn, and the familiar tropics of Strangethorn. Instead, it found itself in Westfall.

It was not the ideal habitat for the cave toad. It was wide open, wind swept, and filled with all manner of hostile creatures and elements. Like before there were potential mates, but like before the area he wished to plunder proved fortified. Almost turning tail and finding a new hunting ground, However, as he mucked about, hunting, he noticed that the farms proved relatively undefended, and while few, there were prime mates to be had. And thus he made his stand here. Patiently, he stalked, and soon whispers of vanishing farmers began to circulate, as a small, growing harem of would be farmer daughters, adventurers, and concubines soon were captured. In old abandoned bunkers and mines he took refuge, heaving his form over them, as they moaned and groaned beneath him, or noisily slurped over his fat rod.

But it was not fear of the would be tribal leader. For there were other things afoot. Brutal murders, starvation, and the rise of a savior on the form of a woman named Hope. She rallied the peasants. But even as the cave toad hunter watched, unaware of the political nature, a gathered. Would be beasts and monsters vanishing, as more and more of his would be prey would vanish. Leaving his bloated and pregnant conquests, he traveled, following one group of settlers, and watched as they continued, passing through a looking town, and vanishing into the mines. The hunter followed, curious, avoiding the various traps and beasts in the shadows. But they were not expecting visitors it seemed, and put only a paltry watch that the hunter was able to avoid.

Soon, a massive ship within a hidden harbor came to view, arming itself for a war that the cave toad knew nothing about. It was not against his kind after all, and he would sooner know the concept of true gunpowder or the political aspect of what this small rebellion entailed. In the end that didn't matter, for it's bulbous eyes locked on a prize that seemed to be yelling at other sailors. The red head beauty was dressed in tight fitting clothes that clung to her ass, ample breasts pushed upwards by a simple tabard, and two thigh high stockings clung to her thighs while down turned knee boots adorned her. Even wearing a mask, the toad has a vague sense of recollection, although it's growing erection made that matter little. Not with such a fine breeder near!

As she ended, she was left to her own devices. Quickly, she grabbed some clothes and exiting the ship, making her way up a secret pass. The hunter followed as closely as he dared. Through a rocky face, he found her, rifling through her sack, bent over, her peachy ass on full display, just begging to be claimed...