Silver

As the sun rose over the horizon to cast light over Tharros, a sturdy-looking merchant ship was approaching the city’s vast port through the narrow bay, carrying with it a mix of cargo and passengers.

Two hours later, well into the morning, the ship had docked at the port and its cargo of Jadhi-manifatured weapons and barrels of sweet southern wine was being unloaded as the passengers descended onto tiled soil. One of the female passengers now leaving the ship was an old lady with a bent back and long silvery hair, her wrinkled face hidden under the hood of her heavy grey robe.

Supporting herself on a twisted wooden cane, the old woman proceeded to limp down the road leading to the city proper, passing by the various waterfront bars and hostels, the barracks housing some of the poorest of the city’s inhabitants and the warehouses storing the commodities and trade goods of some its richest.

After staggering down the street, looking so heartbreakingly pathetic and weak that even ruffians steered out of her way to keep from accidentally pushing her over, the woman suddenly changed her path and moved into a long alley with surprising speed.

A minute later, a woman walked out on the other end of the alley, this one looking to just have gotten out of her teens, standing just short of six feet tall and being equipped with a face that would have been angelic if not for those pouty, lush lips and large, dirty eyes of hers.

Dressing in a skimpy white dress which hugged her heavy, firm tits before narrowing to become mere strings just above her nipples and going on up around her neck, and which took the shape of a simple thin tongue of flimsy material that flapped in front of her crotch, leaving her long, slender legs and strong thighs completely bare of clothing, the woman was moving with a very real sense of purpose, the stiletto heels of her sandals clicking against the tiles of the road while a small cloak sailed in the wind behind her back, a long stream of silvery hair weighing the garment down at least to a point.

Turning herself into an old woman had been a good way for Silver to carry out the journey to Tharros without receiving much in the way of attention.

Still, she had now arrived in the fabled city, and could not see any reason at this point to remain inconspicuous, which was a good thing since the hollers and stares that she became the subject of made it perfectly clear that she was no longer being avoided by people coming the other way.

Liking the attention that she was getting, Silver wanted something more special than being fucked by a dockworker or sailor in an alley to break her week-long dry spell with. She had changed into a more appetizing shape three or four times a day during her travel and then masturbated in front of the mirror in her cabin, and now she was literarily aching to explore the Kettle, Tharros’ famous Red Light District.

Still, she had a reason to come to Tharros other than getting laid, Silver could hear a little voice say in the back of her head.