Get help from the Wood Elf village.

Despite never having met him, Shairi couldn’t help but take against this priest. After her day’s experience, she had no reason to like the wood elves, but the way the loggers were treating them disgusted her.

Not that she was against sex slaves – her plans for when she was a queen included a harem of beautiful women and handsome men to serve her every desire. But she would treat her slaves as pampered pets, not mere pieces of meat.

So, she concocted a plan for retribution, and set out into the woods, back to where the loggers had captured her.

Of course, that was easier said than done for a village girl who’d ventured into the deep wilderness for the first time in her life only that day. She wandered for hours as night fell, until the blue whore’s dress Reyel had given her was torn by thorns and she was hopelessly lost.

“Well, don’t you look a sight!” a voice said in her mind.

“Queiss!” Shairi exclaimed, trying to keep the relief out of her voice as the cat padded into view.

“Yes. What kept you? You left me out here.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Shairi pointed out. “I was going to come back for you. Anyway, right now, I need to find the wood elf village.”

“Well, that’s easy. I can smell them. Better senses are one of the advantages of being a cat – not that I wouldn’t trade them in a heartbeat to have my own tits back.”

“They’d look damn silly on that body,” Shairi said absently, following Queiss’s lead deeper into the woods.

Eventually, she stepped out in front of a pair of wood elf guards outside their village. Her already brief dress was torn, exposing much of her skin and leaving one of her breasts bare. She was a vision of loveliness in the pale moonlight, and the elves looked at her in stunned awe. For her part, Shairi was painfully aware that she was tired and dirty, but she carried herself with the confidence of the witch-queen she intended to become.

“I need to see your chieftain,” she said. “His daughter’s been kidnapped.”

The guards looked at each other, but clearly wordlessly decided – in the manner of guards of any race – that the best way to deal with this oddity was to transfer responsibility to a superior. They showed her into the village, a collection of huts built around and in tall trees. She climbed a ladder to the chieftain’s hall, in the very highest branches of the tallest tree.

The chieftain was a handsome elf. If he’d been human, Shairi would have guessed him to be in his forties. As an elf, he could be any age, for he had the eternally smooth features of their kind. He wore a formal head-dress, surmounted by antlers. He sat at the end of a large room, on a throne of wood and hides, but given the late hour Shairi doubted he was holding court.

In fact, it was fairly obvious what he’d been doing. Three beautiful elf women lounged around the room, and one of them had her shirt open, showing lush breasts that were dappled with cum. She looked daggers at the guards for interrupting. Shairi wondered if they were his wives, his concubines, or just villagers who’d been selected to serve the chief. Nevertheless she ignored them.

“Sir,” she said firmly. “Your daughter Verima has been kidnapped by the human loggers. I barely escaped to bring you this news. I can also tell you that if you strike to rescue her in the evening, the loggers will likely be drunk and ill-prepared to resist.”

Her apparent confidence hid her nervousness. She’d already seen how the wood elves responded to half-elves like her. This could go very badly if the chieftain didn’t believe her story.