“… were you here?”

You had been a high ranking lord of the Hroavian City State, a warrior well versed in combat, and a skilled commander. Your troupe of twenty man had been ambushed and captured by the enemy, a lord of the rival City State of Junos. You and your men had all been ruked. They had ended up on the **** block and no doubt were now spending their time as alcove girls or worse. You were bound for your home city state in ignominious defeat and unmanned shame.

You had not been given the choice of becoming an alcove girl. You were made an example of… a warning to others.

Your fate was to be given as a gift to your city states prince by the ambassador who travelled aboard this trading vessel, an man that had been instrumental in your defeat who was rumoured to be sadistic, cruel and lecherous. These were common attributes on Zhor.

Your mind drifted, thinking about your new condition and the strange and frightening changes it was wreaking upon your mind.