Ilya Thumbs, Mistress of Magic (Story 2 added)

[countrymouse]

“What,” asked Yutjaa, “is that smell Thumbs?”

“It’s bat guano,” Ilya Thumbs said innocently, the young Elf stuck her tongue out concentrating on the tatau she was currently hammering into her own skin. She had been working on it every night of their trip.

“Bat… shit?” Gurdy, tamped the gut strings of her lite to stop them ringing, she scrunched up her cerulean face in disgust, “You're putting bat shit, on your skin?”

“In my skin.” Ilyna paused mid-tap but didn’t look away from the design on her forearm. “Just a small bit of it added to the ink. When I’m ready to cast the rune, it burns the bat…”

“Shit!” Yutjaa said. Along with just about everything else Orcs did not like the mincing of words.

“It retains a connection. When I burn the um… shit, it powers the tattoo.”

“Why go through the extra trouble though Ilya?” Gurdy asked, “I’ve seen you summon a fire before, without using a tatau. You lit this fire.”

“No,” Yutjaa corrected angrily. “Thumbs lit my blanket on fire. Now there’s a big hole in it.”

Ilya put down the reed and mallet looking hurt. Gurdy played peacemaker, “Ilya said she was sorry Yutjaa, and she gave you the gold for it.”

“Gold I have to spend on a new blanket!” The Orc roared. She took a deep breath, for once Yutjaa wanted a job to go smoothly. Ilya was the most inexperienced conjuror in the guild, but she was the only one willing to work with Yutjaa.

Hurdy Gurdy was here because she was good at calming the Orc down. Yutjaa grumbled something about wanting to be alone and stomped off.

Ilya and Gurdy gave each other amused looks. “Wanting to be alone”’ was Yutjaa- speak for “going to pleasure herself until her temper cooled.” The orc needed a lot of alone time.

The young elf’s black reptilian eyes darted around anxiously. Her skin turned almost as blue as her own. The Boswell was reminded that these beautiful forest creatures could change their skin color and move their visual orbs independently as lizards did.

Gurdy played a pleasant C major chord adding in the 4th tone. Though she had lost interest in the subject, the Trog knew there would be no rest for any of them until the elf was allowed to finish her thought. “Please go on with your explanation Ilya.”

Ilya grinned, cutely extending her fangs, elves were strict carnivores. “Well you are right, I have mastered a minor cantrip to produce fire at will. She wiggled her 4 fingers, entirely normal, only humans had 5 full digits. There was a pop of air followed by the bellow of an Orc that wanted her alone time.

“Yutrus’s Puss!” Shouted Yutjaa from the bushes. “I’m going to kill that inept gecko!”

Ilya’s skin turned bright orange, then settled with yellow when no Orc came charging out of the bush. The elf showed Gurdy the intricate design embedded in her forearm. “With a rune, I can contrive a more complex spell, a more powerful magical fire that won’t harm you or Yutjaa, something I wouldn’t normally be able to cast.”

“That’s why you needed our hair?” asked Gurdy.

“Yes. See I’m slowly putting magical energy into the tattoo, the spell has already been cast. When the time comes I will light this,” Ilya pointed at the little vial of bat poop, “and all the power I’ve been siphoning into it will be released at once. All I will have to do is hit the Ogre.”

Gurdy noted that Ilya was a terrible baseball player, after convincing the team she could pitch they then had the only All-Hitter game on record. Coach McGregor decided her gifts were better suited as an outfielder. “Don’t you worry about a gangrenous infection?” Gurdy worried, “Oh elves are immune to everything aren’t they?”

Ilya smiled, “Highly Resistant, not immune, we let humans believe that to further our mystique with them. We are an older race that has survived many diseases, that’s all.”

“Yes I do worry about that, but once I invoke the rune all the ink will be destroyed and the mark will go away. Too bad, it’s so pretty.” The adorable elf’s smile consumed her whole face. “I will have to use it by tomorrow anyway

Yutjaa slumped back into camp, naked from the waist down, even grumpier than before. She added her scorched pants to the campfire. Looked at both of her companions, with particular disdain at the young elf, then laid down for the night.

“I suppose that means we are to keep watch. Probably for the best, Yutjaa needs to be well-rested for the battle tomorrow.”

“I will go first,” Ilya volunteered. “I have more work to do.”

“I will stay up with you a bit,” Gurdy said, playing in the key of C she ended her improvised tune with an eccentric turnaround from C to the 4th, 2nd, 5th then ending back on the 1st.

Yutjaa rose to one elbow and pointed a warning claw at the Bard. “One more chord from that thing and not only will it go in the fire but so will your Seal-Skin.”

There was a high chance that Yutjaa was bluffing. The Orc was Gurdy's oldest friend though and she knew better than to test that theory. She laid the gut-stringed lute down.

Yutjaa grunted and laid back down, crossing her arms over her stomach. Gurdy asked quietly “Would you like me to lay with you Yutjaa?”

“I want you all to shut up!” The Shield-Sister jumped to her feet and mumbled something about wanting to be alone.

————-

Ilya woke with a deep brown complexion, her world spinning. Someone, Yutjaa, had lifted from her bed and was carrying the little elf woman over their shoulder.

“Shh.” Gurdy put a blue hand over her mouth before the Forestling could cry out. “Quiet young one we must get clear of the camp before he spies us.”

“What is going on? Who… Oof!” Yutjaa set the Pixie on her feet and jabbed a quick, brutal punch into the pit of the girl's stomach to stop her from talking.

“It serves you to be a quiet elf!” The Orc commanded in a savage whisper. Ilya wrapped her arms around her little belly and dropped to her knees choking on the Shield-Sister's meaty fist, her flesh went from brown to deep red. “You fell asleep on watch this morning and the Ogre caught us with our pants around our ankles.”

Ilya jammed her upper arm over her mouth to mute her coughing. They were far enough away to speak quietly and still observe the massive goblinoid giant. Like many of his kin, his skin was a ruddy brown that helped him camouflage in his natural hot and sultry environment. Despite their ton of muscle they were famous for their skill at subterfuge, he had walked into the middle of their camp any of them even woke.

They could smell the sweat, and other nasty things, on his swollen body from a hundred feet out. He had uneven tufts of hair everywhere but the top of his head, with a great beard that fell to his knees.

Ogres were dull, walking fortresses, that were often served and commanded by their more intelligent goblin cousins. They were the rare product of an unfortunate meeting between a troll and a giant who had too much to drink.

“That’s the largest male I’ve ever heard of,” Gurdy commented. “He’s taller than a house.”

Yutjaa grunted, Ogres were considered sad abominations to her people, who were distant relatives of both the goblins and the humans.

“How do you know it’s a he?” Asked Ilya. They only saw a dress, apparently with a body inside it, when they turned to look at her. The elf had backed into the brush and blended in with the tall grass. She waved, turning blue again, “Over here, sorry.”

“Sweetie,” said Gurdy soothingly “have you never been with a man? Look at his waist.”

Ilya went red, “Oh my! I thought that was a loincloth.”

Gurdy chuckled. “No dear.”

Ilya tried, “He’s a three-legged Ogre?”

Yutjaa smiled this time. “No.”

Ilya put her hands over her womanhood turning Orc red. She silently uttered “Wow!”

“He’s big.” Yutjaa agreed, “but at least it’s not a female.”

“Do you think he’s in league with the Queen?” Gurdy asked.

“No,” said Yutjaa. “He has no vassals, and I don’t see a saddle. By the size of him, he must be ancient.”

Gurdy nodded, “I’d wager he’s been here since before the humans moved in. Could be a hundred plus a half years old.”

“The Gobs probably can’t catch him,” Yutjaa agreed “and Bonemuncher can’t be bothered to take him down herself. Even for her, it would be risky.”

“Have you ever seen Queen Bonemuncher..?” asked Ilya always eager for knowledge. Gurdy gave the elf pup a warning look. Never ask a free Orc about the Queen.

Fortunately, Ilya was spared a second punch to the gut as Yutjaa merely grunted. The young elf changed the subject, “If others have tried, what hope do we have?”

Now the Orc Shield-Sister looked at Ilya with a pleasant, teeth-baring smile.

—-------------------------------

“Wouldn’t you be more suited to this Gurdy?” Ilya was a darkening mix of red and yellow, which Gurdy recognized as nervous fear. “Not that I wouldn’t do everything to help the team, but you are the thief.”

“Boswell’s are not all sneak-thieves.” Gurdy chuckled bunching up the elf girl’s robes. “We don’t usually hire thieves, they keep stealing from us.”

Ilya’s long tongue lashed out licking both solid black eyes before she blinked to disperse the moisture. She turned distinctively more red than yellow. It was rare to see an elf, and meeting an elf merely one score and half old, almost a child, was even rarer than seeing an elf with gray hair. They were usually much better at passing for humans than their own Ilya Thumbs.

Why pass for humans? Because they fought the war on behalf of everyone else. The beasts and the fae knew their great nations were falling, and that the world belonged to the short-lived, ingenious humans. Gerty had only to see a crossbow being fired once to know she would be the last generation of Seal-Skin to live on land.

“But why,” Ilya asked, sensing that she was being too fae, “must I be naked?”

“You are far from being naked, child,” said Gurdy, which was true, under her robes the not quite 5-foot tall girl wore a white linen bodysuit that covered her upper torso, and over that a second top that had no front, but gave her mid-length sleeves. It was a hot climate so she was not wearing a petticoat so that Gurdy could appreciate the girl's powerful, thick, thigh muscles. This was a girl built for tumbling and jumping. “Your robes will just get in the way and you need to be able to move quickly and quietly.”

Ilya was silent. That wasn’t the real question and Gurdy knew it.

“You messed up by falling asleep. Yutjaa left her sword and armor behind to save you. You must earn Yutjaa’s, and my” Gurdy made eye firm eye contact to ensure the young elf whose side she was on, “trust back.”

“Now go, and be careful.” The Boswell spun the cute young Forestling about by her shoulders and gave her a playful smack on her pert little rump.

——————-

The ancient Ogre was even larger up close, nearly thrice her own height. Ilya pitied the creature, all alone in the world for so many years, hated only for trying to live. He probably was not even aware of how old he was, but he was getting too close to the villages and the humans needed him to put down.

The Ogre had killed their horses and was ripping through them as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. This was the problem, Ogres would eat horses, cattle, and people. If it wandered into a village it would cause great damage before they stopped it. If they even could stop it.

What Ilya didn’t know was that the horses were part of Yutjaa’s plan. The only thing Ogre’s liked more than females was a good meal.

Ilya entered their demolished campsite on her bare tip-toes. Elves were made for the swamps and forests so the muggy heat didn’t bother her. Although she was aware of a mischievous draft tickling the naked inseam of her thighs.

She had three aims: Yutjaa’s sword, Yutjaa’s chestplate, Yutjaa’s shield. Then if she got that far, Gurdy needed her lute. This was all so that Ilya herself could get a clear shot at the Ogre’s chest with her custom spell.

Ever efficient, the Orc warrior had her gear neatly stacked together, Breastplate, shield, and longsword. Ilya checked on the Ogre, he was still facing away from her, happily gnawing on a horse leg. They specifically instructed Ilya to attempt only one item at a time. That way they would have at least some of the gear they needed if she failed and they had to come to save her, but that would mean sneaking out and sneaking back several times.

The Forestling assured herself that she could carry the sword and shield in one go. Her companions saw what she was doing and gestured passionately for her to stick with the plan. Ilya returned a positive gesture, she had this and lifted both the sword and shield.

Ilya grunted, feeling the muscles in her abdomen and chest protest. The shield was surprisingly heavy, and the sword was also on the weightier side. The Orc was exceptionally strong and had used gear as heavy as possible for protection and impact. Ilya still felt it was manageable and began walking back to her party members.

Soon the elf understood that it wasn’t the amount of weight they were concerned with, but the noise the gear would make. Ilya tried to weave her arm into the straps of the shield but found that it slapped against her thigh as she tried to walk. The sword was balanced for a 6-foot tall Orc woman more than 50 pounds heavier than herself. Ilya had to carry it right in the center to be able to walk with it while keeping her muscles tight the whole time. The scabbard had a strap that jingled as she padded over to her friends.

“What in Gruumsh’s One-eye are you doing!” growled Yutjaa aiming a fist at the girl's taut belly.

Gurdy threw herself between them, “Stop! I’ll let you kick her ass later my friend.”

Ilya looked betrayed, her red skin deepening. “You will?”

“You’re damn right I will if you don’t do as you’re told Elfling.” Gurdy swatted her on the behind again. “Now go get the armor, and only the armor!”

“You’re right. Thumbs does have a gorgeous backside.” Ilya heard Yutjaa comment, as she scampered away in her bodystocking and lovely bare legs. “I will be the next one to spank her, yes?”

—----------------------------------

The little Forestling was back in what was once their camp. Yutjaa’s armor was a leather harness that supported a robust metal front plate. This was much heavier than both the sword and shield together and Ilya grunted slightly as she tried to lift the breastplate.

The Ogre heard the sound and whirled around with impossible speed. Smelling the air.

The elf was so startled by the speed of the monster that she almost ended herself by crying out. She flung a hand over her mouth as anxiety overtook her, turning her skin black. As the Ogre sniffed around trying to locate her she could see that sometime in its long life it had lost an eye, and might be blind in the remaining one.

The thing’s wide flat nose was almost as big as her head. It sat shallow on its face, as equally broad as it was tall with a dropping nasal septum and wide nostrils. The Ogre pressed it to her face, threatening to inhale her headscarf.

Then the monster stuck out its tongue and gave Ilya a massive lick from knee to head. Ilya felt as though she were going to wretch for the smell of the Ogre's breath. The Elf deduced that the beast had lost his smell and taste, and must only live for texture.

It grabbed the top of her white hood lifting the girl off the ground while she kicked at him furiously with her bare legs. Ilya slipped out, abandoning the garment to land sleeveless as her hair spilled loose around her shoulders.

she was still reeling from the smell when the hulking beast stuck out a barbed nail. He hooked it into the collar of her silk body stocking and, rudely, ripped down.

Ilya gasped, brutally, and suddenly naked. The habit tore away in one quick motion, no match for the sheer savage strength of the Ogre. She stood there confused and terrified, with all her clothing laying in shreds at her feet.

Then Hurdy Gurdy was at her side, somehow holding her Lute in one hand and offering the armored chest plate to Ilya with the other. “Get this to the Orc and get your spell ready. Do you have the vial?”

“I…” Ilya stammered. Gurdy noticed that the pretty Elf was nude and gave her a leering once over. The Selke woman whistled her appreciation of the girl's firm muscle tone and long, elegant limbs. She gave Ilya a wink. “I suppose not.”

The cute Elf girl was suddenly intensely embarrassed and moved her arms to cover up. “It’s in my robe.”

At that instant, the Ogre clutched his hand about Gurdy’s waist and lifted her effortlessly into the air. “Run Elf! Don’t let me die!”

—————-

Without so much as a thread left on her body, the young elf girl sprinted in search of their Orc companion.

Gurdy used an enchantment on her Lute that amplified its sound 20-fold and created additional distorted harmonics. When the Ogre brought her near his gaping maw she hit a dissonant chord with a minor 3rd and a diminished 5th. A thunderous banshee wail that made the earth shake, demanding a sonic resolution that never came.

“‘Scuse me, while I kiss the sky! Woo!” The Trog made horns with her index and pinky as the Ogre dropped her to cover its ears. Ilya thought that probably hurt, his sight and smell may be gone, but he could hear just fine.

While Hurdy Gurdy’s onslaught of noise held the Ogre at bay, Yutjaa peered out from her hiding spot behind some trees to intercept Ilyas. She had Ilyas robe. “Over here Knife-Ears help me with it. Hurry.”

Ilya stood behind the Orc Shield-Sister securing the fasteners as she donned the chest plate. It was a no-nonsense plate of folded steel forged by a human blacksmith. The humans were steadily catching up to the dwarves in their metalworking prowess, another sign that it was time for the older races to move on.

“A little tight on the right shoulder.” Yutjaa advised. She windmilled her arm to test her mobility. “Why are you naked?”

“The Ogre…”

Yutjaa began jogging towards the Ogre. “We'll put something on, it’s distracting me.”

That was the nicest thing the Orc had ever said to her and it made Ilya’s blush
turn a brighter yellow. She hastily pulled her robe overhead, thankful for clothing, but missing the body stocking.

The Ogre was building a tolerance to Gurdy’s acoustic assault. It lashed out, knocking the Lute from the Seal-Skins hands so that it smashed into pieces against a rock. Gurdy swore, “Everyone’s a critic!”

Free of this torment the Ogre moved with frightening speed to grab Hurdy Gurdy by the legs and hoist her upside down. The Ogre brought the Selke to its mouth and let out an ear-shattering roar that caused the leaves of nearby trees to swirl away.

So too did Gurdy’s clothes. As she dangled by her feet the monstrous bellow shook her red hair loose, popped off the buttons of her tunic, tearing it open to unveil a beautiful set of breasts, and ripped her trousers to ribbons.

“Awe c‘mon.” Gurdy squirmed, more annoyed than embarrassed. “That stuff costs money and I work for a living.”

She looked more fearful when the Ogre brought his other massive hand up and peeled off the remaining shreds of clothing with a single rip. Already an attractive woman in her figure concealing man clothes, Gurdy was a slim and beautiful creature without them. “Oh!” She cried out, furious.

—-------------------------------

Finished unwrapping its dessert the Ogre lifted the blue-skinned woman towards its gaping maw.

Hurdy Gurdy kept her cool, crossing her arms over her exposed breasts. “Anybody? Help? Yutjaa? Cute naked elf girl?”

Then the hairy grey hand that held Gurdy’s life was hit by a fiery missile. Ilya was still breathing hard from her running, she needed to get in better condition for this sort of thing, the 4 fingers of her right hand emitting trails of smoke.

On impact it shattered, setting fire to the hair all over the Ogre’s arm. The beast howled, tossing Gurdy any which way. The girl, stripped to her boots, let out a scream as she vanished over the treeline. “Not a better scenario…”

“Oi! Ogre here!” Yutjaa challenged, running up as the Ogre furiously patted itself trying to choke out the flames on its arms and chest. She wore her chest plate over a sleeveless padded tunic along with a kilt. She used her sword to beat the side of her shield, which was strapped to her unfavored arm, like a drum.

The Orc’s arms and legs were the biggest and most defined Ilya had ever seen on a woman and many men. The hard sinew rippled beneath her ruddy grey skin as she walked toward the giant Ogre.

Yutjaa’s black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. With her lifestyle, it would be wiser just to cut it short, but even though Yutjaa openly mocked womanly chatskis, she actually liked being a girl and wouldn’t change that. Who would tell her no?

To Ilya, she asked, “Gurdy might be dead. I hope that wasn’t the spell.”

“No.” said the Elf turning from red to green. She held up the vial of bat-guano “Buy me half a minute.”

Yutjaa nodded solemnly. The Shield-Sister addressed the great beast. “Whatever your problem is, man up and get Ogre it!”

“Eh?” She glanced at Ilya for approval, but the Elf just shook her head. Yutjaa shrugged her brawny shoulders and charged forward while Ilya broke open the vial.

An Orc took her work seriously and laughed at herself. Yutjaa wasn’t very good at the second part. Her family knew what they meant to her, and understood the sacrifice she made leaving them behind. Her tribe as a whole did not, and they died believing she was a traitor.

Her life among humans was difficult, even though her actions were in their interests, she was still seen as the enemy. The lack of male Orcs around didn’t help her foul mood. She was afraid she would break a human man.

Cute Elf girls did not make things easier.

Yutjaa figured this might be the largest male ever seen. The largest Troll; the smallest Giant. The bastard mule of the gob-bloods, though they had been known to bear children.

The Ogre recoiled when he saw Yutjaa, why couldn’t they just let him have his meal? Upon closer inspection he assumed Yutjaa to be some sort of Ogre child or dwarf challenging him for supremacy. The monster squatted back, throwing its head up to make a throaty wheezing cough.

“What’s happening?” Asked Ilya from some distance, “Have you killed it already?”

“It’s laughing at me.” The Orc admitted reluctantly. She noticed the Elfling was on all fours. “And what are you doing?”

“Well um…” Ilya said turning peach. “I opened the vial and…”

“And..?”

“… Then I dropped it.”

The Orc half turned to glower at the elfin evoker, if the Ogre didn’t kill Ilya today, Yutjaa would. “The vial or the bat-shit?”

“The guano,” she replied sheepishly, Yutjaa terrified her even more than the Ogre. “But it’s a little round pellet, it should be easy to spot.”

Yutjaa grumbled something about fried elf ears for supper. She turned back to the Ogre just in time to see his thumb and pointy finger fill her vision. She raised the steel-reinforced wooden board strapped to her arm and braced herself.

The Ogre reached out and flicked Yutjaa as though he were playing marbles. Shield -Sister was thrown from her feet landing some dozen distance behind Ilya.

“Found it!” Cheered Ilya triumphantly. Her companion wasn’t where she expected and she had to search for her. Yutjaa was crossly wrenching the two halves of her splintered shield from her arm.

The Elf scooped up the guano in a kerchief and took a whiff to check on its freshness. She regretted that straight away. It was fresh. She was experiencing all sorts of bad smells today.

Ilya took a defensive stance that would give her a chance to dodge out of the way if the Ogre came near. Then she snapped her fingers igniting the kerchief and its contents into a green ball of flame. She uttered another cantrip and floated the fireball into her favored hand.

Yutjaa charged back into the fight, handling the longsword with both hands. She strode before the giant Ogre boldly pointing the 3 and a half foot blade at it.

“I promise you a good death monster, but your time,” Yutjaa called, “is Ogre!”

The beast slapped its own forehead disapprovingly. Then it struck out ferociously, knocking Yutjaa’s blade from her hand so that it flew into the wood after Gurdy.

Yutjaa felt a loss as she watched her prized weapon arc into the depths of the woods, perhaps gone forever. Her brother had given her that sword when she was going off to her first march.

She had little time to dwell on it as the Ogre took her by the neckband of her blouse and yanked it down her shoulders. Straps popped, leather snapped, and padded cloth ripped as both Yutjaa’s tunic and leather harness were brutishly rent in half.

The tunic hung in rags from Yutjaa’s waist, her impressive upper body revealed. Besides her strong, solid ax handles, she had a narrow waist with an 8 rack of belly muscle. Yutjaa usually flattened her superb breasts with a sturdy bandeau so that her armor would be more comfortable, but that was destroyed along with her shirt.

Without warning, the beast pinched the hem of her kilt, and with a single rip that spun her fully about, tore the skirt from her waist. Abruptly naked, the Orc made a sharp girlish squeal, in a trice every stitch of clothing had been torn from her.

Ilya had set things in motion and just need to keep focus While the green fire drew its shape from the rune. Though it was not the proper time Ilya noticed that, despite all the lean muscle there was nothing mannish about the Orc woman. Yutjaa had a gorgeous and powerful physique. Now she understood the Shield-Sister's complaints about human men. What man could possibly handle this beautiful lass?

When the Ogre made to grab her, Yutjaa was able to get a leg up over its thumb. She was caught but easily pulled herself free as the monster lifted the naked Orc towards its mouth.

The flame drifting above Ilya's hand was now blue and turning white. The fire pulled power from the rune, causing the mark to fade from her skin as it took its design for itself.

The fearless Orc leaped from the Ogre's hand onto its head, planting the heel of her foot square on the monstrosity’s wide nose. The beast yowled attempting to swipe at Yutjaa, but she spider crawled onto the Thing’s back so that the punch landed on his own jaw.

At first, she attempted to choke him out but her hands would not meet around his neck. She used her legs instead, managing a weaker clutch than she had hoped for.

The beast moaned its displeasure. If she managed to choke out a full-grown Ogre she would be a legend, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. They needed fire, and they needed fire soon.

Yutjaa pulled hard on the brutes' ears using them like horse’s stirrups to turn the Ogre to face their secret weapon. Ilya.

“Now knife-ears!” The Shield-Sister called.

“Just another moment,” Ilya said. The rune had almost completely faded from her wrist, and the flame was pulsing with power.

“It has to be enough!” Yutjaa yelled, “This is my best move against it. Throw it!”

The spell was finally cooked, it compacted into a ball of fiery light and floated down into the caster's palm.

“It’s done!” Ilya screamed gleefully and threw it at the monstrous Ogre.

“Is he dying?” Hurdy Gurdy asked, she strolled back into camp carrying Yutjaa’s sword with an air of deshabille. As though walking around in the blue skin she was born in was the least of her worries. She was more concerned with getting her Mohawk to stand upright.

“Oh shit!” Ilya cried out. Hurdy Gurdy’s sudden reappearance had startled her and she fumbled the ball.

There was a sound of thunder…

—----------------------------------

…The Ogre lay dead, a new foul stench coming from its body as it, and everything in their camp burned. The white fire had cooled to a natural orange.

Yutjaa was pleased to find Hurdy Gurdy, completely nude, but alive. The blue-skinned woman raised an eyebrow when she saw the naked Orc walking up to her “Wow look at you, Orc’s can get it!”

Yutjaa could not suppress a grin. She was happy to be alive and happier that her oldest friend had survived. She kicked her sword up into her hand and walked back to the Ogre slitting its throat with several bloody overhead swings.

The Orc walked back to Hurdy Gurdy and offered a hand up. “Have you seen yourself lately naked girl?”

“I have boots,” Gurdy wiggled her blue toes, smoke trailed from where the leather continued to incinerate. It didn’t seem to be harming her skin though.“Hey, my boots! I paid 50 gold for those!”

“You shouldn’t bring the gear you can’t afford to lose.” The Orc chastised. “Where is the Elf?”

“Where we left her.”

“We Won!” Ilya swished up to them in her robes, bright purple, and overjoyed. She turned red when she saw the state of her companion's undress. “Oops.”

“…So Ilya, little Elf, when you said you wrote in some protection for us,” said the Selke Boswell moving to one side of the young evoker “did that include our clothing and gear?”

“Uh.” The cute Forestling forced a smile and started to blend in with the scorched ground at her feet. “I’m so sorry guys! I suppose you’re going to have to walk back to the village in the nude.”

“Well, Thumbs.” Said Yutjaa, calmly positioning herself so that Ilya stood between them to cut off any escape. “One of us will be…”

[Executionus]

Well that was an interesting story. You don't see much D&D style content here, that's for sure. And I swear I've partied with people who rolled 1s as often as Ilya and were practically the best person on the other team.

[countrymouse]

1
“This is the fourth time we’ve been here this weekend,” said the bored Boswell checking on her red Mohawk. “Are you going to buy it this time?”

“I… I don’t know what you mean Gurdy.” Yutjaa said defensively. She did though. It was a beautifully crafted thing, with a floor-length bliaut infused with autumn leaves, roots, bark, and corn to make it a brilliant bright yellow. The kirtle was a deep red fastened in the front with thread. The tunic matched her eyes; the overskirt matched her skin.

Gurdy pointed at the mannequin currently wearing the gown. “That. The dress you keep making excuses to come to visit.”

“I couldn’t, Orcs don’t. I would look silly…”

After much prodding from her blue-skinned Selke friend Yutjaa tried the gown on. It fit almost as though it were made for her, requiring only a bit of cinching at the waist, and letting out at the bust. They told Yutjaa she could wear it now and leave it at the end of the market so they could make the adjustments permanent by tomorrow.

“… you look beautiful,” said Hurdy Gurdy as they stepped out of the shop. Orcs were supposed to be serious and stoic, but the nearly 6 foot, 170lb Shield-Sister was giggling with pride. “Do you really think so Gurdy?”

They spotted Ilya at the town well, entertaining the children with her juggling sword cantrip. The young elf girl juggled the daggers in the air, every once in a while conjuring another blade to add to the waterfall of swords. “Do you know who’s opinion you should get in the matter?”

Yutjaa’s cheeks turn up even more. “Urim? Should I?”

Urim Nan was not just the only Orc man in town, and Yutjaa liked them male and Orc, he was also a well-to-do and respected horse breeder. Yutjaa would not say so, but the 3 of them, Yutjaa, Hurdy Gurdy, and Ilya Thumbs had been lingering in this town long after the work had dried up, waiting for their normally fearless Orc warrior to drill up the nerve to talk to her crush.

“Let’s happen to pass by Urim’s offices when our little Elf is done playing with her friends.” They treated Ilya as their platonic child even though Elfin caster was in actual years not much younger than either of them. However, a Wood Elf emerging from their woods below 50 years was unheard of, finding an Elf in her 20s was extremely rare.

The real elves were lost to history, leaving only their artifacts and decaying cities as evidence of their existence. All that was left were the Elves' cousins like Ilya, a Forestling, and Gurdy, a blue-skinned river Selke. Even the Orcs had some green blood in their ancestry, though you may as well call an Orcs mother a human than tell them that.

Ilya stuck her pink tongue out as she conscientiously concentrated deeply on her cantrip. She was up to nine blades, teddy bears, toy babies, dancing balls of light, and blueberry turnovers, and had a second circle hovering high around her head like a halo.

A fanciful grin flashed across the Forestling's face when she saw her friends, almost faltering in control of her magic maneuvers. Gurdy and Yutjaa, perpetually the poor patsy of Ilya's many mischievous magical misfires, pulled back a few prudent paces.

“Mayhaps we should let the Elfin be for the present?” Yutjaa said, grabbing Gurdy’s arm, calling on her to carry on through the courtyard. Gurdy chuckled, “If we dallied there another tick Ilyas sorcery would most likely have us in our skivvies by now no?”

“I’ll catch up with you in a little bit, my good friends!” As they turned away their young Elf friend waved farewell. Her kind spent much of their lives in isolation, with only the animals and trees for friendship. The animals were difficult to befriend because Ilya ate them regularly. The trees, while ancient and wise, had no more intelligence than an average plant.

Her parents were attentive for the first few years, but once she could hunt they lost interest in her and wandered off to some other part of the forest. She saw her father one more time, years later, when he had felled a deer, but he was hungry and chased her off when she tried to talk to him.

So after twenty lonely years, she decided to follow one of the human caravans that occasionally passed through her woods. Hoping they would lead her to a settlement. She was fascinated by human society and had learned how to read their books after discovering some among their remains.

Upon her gesture Ilya’s spell obeyed the command, hurling its collected tchotchkes of stuffed animals, fruit desserts, and knives after her chosen quarry. Which, of course, were Gurdy and Yutjaa.

“Oh no!” The Elfling cried out. Yutjaa was already cross with her after she accidentally summoned ants instead of a picnic this morning. The Orc would be furious if another spell went amiss at her expense, “Yutjaa watch out!”

“Gurdy could you?” The Orc Shield-Sister sighed. “I don’t want to turn around, I’m in a good mood.”

“Oh, here we go again.” Gurdy shrugged, turning about to receive a berry pie right in the kisser. Before she could wipe her eyes she felt another fruit pastry hit her décolletage. Cold purple filling ran down her cleavage beneath her bodice. Two more pies nailed her, predictably, on each breast.

The Selke smiled wryly as a teddy bear bounced off of her head, life had been a constant adventure since they had joined up with the young mage. She scraped some berry off of her nose and compared it with her own blue hand. “At least it matches.”

Hurdy Gurdy tracked three floating daggers flitting past her face. “Oh no! Yutjaa run!”

“What is it?” The nervous Orc poked her head out from her hiding spot behind some steel braced wood wine barrels. The ensorcelled knives went after Yutjaa right away, lashing long lacerations along the length of her lovely skirts.

The Orc woman cried “Yikes!” her powerfully built legs flashing red-brown copper through the gashes in her new dress. Yutjaa bashfully collected the ribbons of her bliaut and kirtle trying to cover her thighs. She started when she checked her behind and felt skin instead of fabric. Peering behind her she confirmed that most of her beautiful new dress’s back, below the waist, was gone giving a fine view of her muscular buttocks.

Suffice to say that Yutjaa’s mood had turned foul. Her nose crinkled, her full eyebrows furrowed, and the corners of her lips turned down as she bared her long dog teeth with a fierce feral growl.

The Orc roared. “Ilya!”

-------------------------------------

[countrymouse]

2
“I’m so sorry Yutjaa! Was that a new dress?” Ilya Thumbs held up her hands, three fingers and a thumb each, the guanine crystals in her skin activating to blend in with the fountain behind her. Her ability to change her complexion did not continue to her clothing, which she wore for the comfort of others not her own, so her robes were ducking behind a cart with nobody inside. “It’s Uh… really pretty?”

“Ilya!” Yutjaa was on her feet, her new gown and apron a tatterdemalion of hanging cloth, fists clenched. The terrifying Orc was a mix of emotions, furious that the dress she had just splurged on was destroyed, but also near tears for the same reason. Anger was winning out as she took a step toward the cowering Elfling.

“I can fix it!” Ilya called with unconvincing confidence. Magical energy began to form around her hand as she rubbed two silver polished lodestones together. “I have another spell that…”

“No more magic!” The Orc bellowed. The tiny tikes that Ilya tried tricks for now tarried to abstain from the path of the fearsome Yutjaa who was rolling up her sleeves. Shopkeepers started shoving their sales stock into their carts and carriages as the unmarried Orc maid marched menacingly through the morning market. “I’m going to take the price of this dress out of your hide you Bird-Boned Tree-Thumper!”

“It’ll repair everything! I promise.” Then the Orc quickly went from enraged to fearful, Ilya had her spell powered up and was aiming it at Yutjaa. The little mage let loose her magic with a commanding “Coudre Reparer!”

“No! Don’t do it Ilya!” The Orc held her hands up defensively, turning her head. The spell tore through her lovely garment, cloth rent, buttons flew, not stopping at her skirt this time, “Eek!”

When the maelstrom passed Yutjaa stood up, feeling the warm air pass through the many new openings in her clothing. The hem of her skirt was well above her knees. One sleeve had ripped along its length and hung loosely off of her shoulder and wrist. The deep red kirtle hung in rags about her waist.

Worst, for Yutjaa, was the fine yellow silk underdress and shift beneath it had been torn collar to waist, leaving one shoulder intact. It left half of Yutjaa’s torso uncovered, however, giving the town a spectacular view of her right breast.

“Mommy?” Said little Sally, “Why come that gray lady has bigger bazoombas than you?”

“Orcs don’t do anything small dear,” Little Sally’s mom said, “now cover your eyes.”

“Oops!” Ilya Thumbs thumbed through a tiny notebook she kept in a pocket inside the sleeve of her robe. “I said Sew Repair, not Repair Sew. I reversed the spell.”

“I’m gonna kill ya, Ilya!” The Orc Shield-Sister was so Humiliated she began rhyming. Before she could make a stride toward the Elf, Old Mrs. Waffle stormed up to the Orc and started swinging her bag at her. “You put that away you hussy!”

“Hey! Ow!” Yutjaa backed off, shielding herself with her arms. Old Mrs. Waffles chastised. “How dare you walk around in your birthday suit when there are kids around?”

“Now is your chance Ilya!” Shouted Hurdy Gurdy through bites of blueberry pie, she always enjoyed the spectacle. “Run, Forestling, run!

While the Orc was distracted Ilya pulled her pretty pink robe up over her head. With their versatile ability to rapidly change their skin color a Wood Elf could become almost invisible. However it was more effective if they remained still, and any clothing they wore could still be seen.

Yutjaa carefully lifted the old woman out of her path. She spied Ilya in the short hemmed bodystocking she wore under her robes, attempting to scamper away in bare legs and feet. With a hair-raising growl, the Orc brute chased after the young Elfling. She overtook the pink-haired girl in two bounds hooking a claw into the collar of her hosiery to yank her off her feet.

Instead of hauling Ilya back to administer a beating, a single rip spun the cute Elfling fully about, tearing the tights clean from her petite body. With an indignant yelp, Ilya stumbled back into a run.

Out and out nude, Ilya Thumbs danced away.

[countrymouse]

3
“Get back here you little Leaf Muncher!” The Orc yelled after her. Ilya felt a draft between her legs as she ran for her life. She missed her clothes already. Yutjaa had never been so angry with her as she was now. Not even when she had conjured those stink bugs in her bedroll.

The sylph sprang into the branches of a tree with astounding speed. As she scrambled skyward her skin instantly adapted to the stripes and knots of the snarl of the tree stock. Free of her finery Ilya could take full effect of her surroundings, she faded away right in front of Yutjaa.

Except that the camouflage was most effective when she was still. The young Sapling was trying to put distance between herself and the outraged Orc. careful scrutiny revealed a reflection along the bark as she scurried. Sometimes a branch would shudder as she sprang from one to the other.

Yutjaa kept an eye on her companions' progress, strapping the stretchy satin cloth of Ilya’s bodystocking about her sternum to conceal her substantial breasts. Hurdy Gurdy pointed at a light brown blur blending with the blue sky as Ilya took her leave of the tawny-colored tree and tilted onto the rooftop of a taproom. “There Yutjaa!”

“I see her,” The Orc called back, she abandoned her sandals to climb the fence surrounding a pigsty being careful not to step in the sticky filth. The young pig couple had just moved into a nice plot of muck near the center of town and were hoping to start a family soon. They regarded the Orc with curiosity, was she breaking in, or just passing through?

The Shield Sister was standing on the fence jumping up to try and snatch Ilya’s tiny foot. The Elf rebuffed Yutjaa with kicks while building up violaceous transmutation energy by rubbing the shiny lodestones together in her hand.

The young pig couple, we will call them Frankie and George and the reader can decide which is female and which is not, it does not matter, thought the spectacle to be very silly and snorted accordingly. George was worried that the big Orc might ruin her (or his?) freshly planed mud layer by stepping in it.

“Ow! You did not just kick me in the face!” A lucky hit bonked Yutjaa straight on the nose. She recoiled losing her footing and dropped from the fence. Unfortunately for her poor nethers, one foot landed on the east side, the other on the west leaving her womanhood planted firmly on the South Pole. Yutjaa held onto the roof, moaning into her palm as the pain spread like wildfire through her pelvic region.

“Reparer Coudre, Reparer Coudre.” Ilya practiced under her breath. Then she announced
in triumph, “I have it now!”

Violet Sorcerous power swirled around Ilyas right hand. She pointed at Yutjaa commanding dramatically “Recou-“

“Oh no, you don’t Bark-Sniffer!” Yutjaa swore, displaying her impressive Orc strength as she hauled herself onto the shingled roof with one powerful arm. Ilya retreated, instinctively letting go of the leash on her spell, allowing the purple-white energy to flow from her without any focus to guide it. A circle of energy glowed on the surface of the roof that supported them both. The Orc’s anger turned to concern, “What did you do Thumbs?”

Ilya Thumbs' heart skipped a beat, “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” screamed Yutjaa, there was that temper again.

“You interrupted me! It’s just raw unfocused magic.” Ilya fretted.

What did she mean by that? “You shot me with wild magic?”

Wild, unfettered, magic could have unpredictable, disastrous effects. It might cause Yutjaa’s hair to turn into tree branches, and make her dog teeth grow to the size of a mastodon tusk. It might turn her into a horny toad. It might just kill them outright. This time it turned all of the shingles on the roof and the wood planks into large pretty butterflies who flew high into the morning sky spouting little hoses of fire.

Ilya would have liked to see the butterflies but she and Yutjaa were too concerned with falling to their certain deaths.

[countrymouse]

4
The Elf’s raw magic tore through the rooftop of the town taproom transforming the tiles at the most base tier turning out, not a living thing, but an approximation. Butterflies fluttered about them enjoying half a minute of magical life before melting into the air. Ilya dived for her Orc friend, who stood at the margin, hoping to propel them both clear of the cavity she herself had called forth.

Rather than tackling Yutjaa off of her feet, as she intended, the Sapling simply slammed roughly into the Orc. Yutjaa did not move an inch. She raised an eyebrow “What are you doing?”

“I…” then Ilya was slipping. She desperately grabbed at Yutjaa catching her makeshift top, which had been Ilya’s own bodystocking, ripping it down as she stumbled backward through the hole.

The naked young elf flailed as she dropped a tensome from the top of the taproom building. She crashed hard on a 3-hogshead centralized brewing tank, splintering through the wooden lid to plunge bodily into the pool of golden-yellow liquid. Beer.

Ilya popped back up, pink hair matted to her head, and predictably nubile. She had a dumb smile on her face and her speech slurred as she called up to her Orc friend. “Yu-ya! Gut-fa? Come swimming with me! This water tastes funny!”

The Shield Sister broke into laughter despite herself. The ridiculous mayhem Ilya caused on a daily basis could be annoying, but she had never had so much fun before.

Then Hurdy Gurdy was behind Yutjaa playfully trying to shove her best friend into the tank. “You don’t think a bunch of naked girls are going to get away when there’s enough beer for us to swim in?”

The Orc struggled, but not that much, allowing Gurdy to push her in, but making sure she fell in after her. With the three of them, there wasn’t much space in the tank except to splash each other, which they did, and to drink heartily, which they did.

Before things got too out of hand, Yutjaa made sure to grab Gurdy’s blouse with both fists and rip it off of her. Ilya was in cahoots, skillfully pantsing her surrogate sister. In a blink, Hurdy Gurdy was as naked as they were.

At first, the Boswell was surprised, but then she just shrugged it off with a half-grin. Nudity was her natural state, and “all is fair” after all.

Eventually, a gruff, Orcish voice intervened. “Ahem! Ladies?”

Yutjaa panicked. “Urim! Oh, I will just die if he sees me like this!”

“Girls, could I have you come out there now?” The Orc said with gentle, but firm, authority.

“Yes, teacher!” Hurdy Gurdy teased climbing out of the brewing tank. Yutjaa giggled, “Oh Mister Urim can boss me around like that any time he pleases.”

“What are you women doing in there?” Urim interrogated once they were lined up precariously. He looked them over as though they were some of his horses. Ilya Thumbs with her dainty curves. Hurdy Gurdy with her long limbs, and Yutjaa with her womanly power. All of them were naked to the waist wrapping their arms around themselves for cover. Gurdy was just going along with it.

“Getting drunk and naked sir!” Gurdy laughed obediently.

He lingered on Yutjaa longer than was appropriate. The stunning female had caught his eye as she traveled in and out of town over the last few weeks. He didn’t see many Orc women, and never one so strong and beautiful. He leaned in close to her ear and quietly asked.

“Strongfist?” His whisper sent all sorts of sensations shooting all through her body. Could he be asking if they were related? Yutjaa gave Hurdy Gurdy a questioning side-eye. What should she do? Gurdy responded by putting her hands on her hips and sticking her bare chest out.

The Shield-Sister pointed her breasts at the handsome Orc man, who she had been crushing on like a schoolgirl for weeks, and stared him straight in his steel-blue eyes. It was as though she were facing down a green dragon. “No. I’m a Maneater!”

Urim was taken aback by this fierce, beautiful female’s bold declaration of interest. In an Orc encampment, when a woman bared her breasts to a male in this manner she was announcing to the other females that this was her mate.“There aren’t many of us Free Orcs,” said the Orc woman in a low, challenging growl, “and even less time to waste.”

The tall, powerful Orc was even more handsome when he smiled. Yutjaa had staked her claim, and Urim-Nan Strongfist was very flattered.

The Orc and the Selke exchanged giggling looks as the horse breeder put his large hands behind his back and paced. Ilya had learned the taboos of nudity among humans and was mortified. “Um… there’s a lot of humans looking at us.”

Urim stopped short. “I don’t think we have to call the constable. I currently reside as the Magistrate, and this is my property.”

Gurdy was impressed. “It is?”

“Yes, M’am.” A middle-aged man they assumed was the Brewer stepped forward. “During the drought last year we almost lost the business. Kind Mister Strongfist here bought us out and arranged for a regular barley shipment so we could keep running.”

We’re going to buy it back from him in payments,” the man continued, “when we start profiting again.”

Hurdy Gurdy stepped forward and pointed her breasts at Urim. “Is this how it’s done?”

Yutjaa cupped a hand over Gurdy’s mouth and hauled her back. To Urim “You were saying?”

“Only that,” Urim continued. “if you help with repairs and agree to pay for their business losses, the beer you just ruined, then there is no need for jail time. Fair?”

“We don’t have the money…” said Yutjaa.

Urim stopped in front of her. “I assumed so, though you Yutjaa Maneater have a great pair of…”

Yutjaa raised a testing eyebrow and cocked her hip to the other side.

“Er… “ Urim blushed. “What I mean to say is that I will hire you to pay off the debt based on your good reputation.”

“Oh yeah, she’ll work for you.” Gurdy teased, lewdly pumping her hips.

“No! There are tasks I need doing that you are perfectly suited for.”

“Yeah, take her to task Urim! She likes it rough and from behind!” Gurdy laughed.

“Shut up Gurdy!” Yutjaa growled.

Ilya was red with embarrassment. “I’m okay with jail, I just want some clothes.”

Urim stammered. “I mean that…”

“What do you mean?” Yutjaa asked firmly.

“… that if you come, do some jobs for me….”

Gurdy was about to interject but the Orcs both gave her death stares. “Then maybe we can spend some time together? I have the rest of the day free.”

“Agreed,” Yutjaa smiled broadly. “but after we get some clothing.” To Ilya “No more magic in town little Sapling!”

The Elf pointed but nodded in agreement.

As the three adventurers walked back through town to their inn, as naked as the day they were born, and covered in beer, Gurdy poked her Orc friend with her elbow. “See Yutjaa? I told you Urim would love the dress!”

[countrymouse]

Chapter 1

"What's Gruumsh’s axe doing in my head?" Yutjaa winced, her voice a gravelly rumble that contrasted sharply with the serene forest around them. The early light filtered through the verdant canopy, casting long shadows that seemed to dance as the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. Every beam of light that made its way to her sensitive eyes was like a spear, and each pulse of her heart was a drum of war against her temples.

Slowly, she pushed herself up from the cool forest floor, the dampness seeping into her skin doing little to soothe her aching head. Her squinted gaze surveyed the surroundings. The picturesque scenery, draped in the early sunlight, seemed utterly disconnected from the pain she was in.

“I keep telling you Yutjaa,” Gurdy’s voice rippled through the stillness, laced with mischievous amusement, "girl can get it!" The Triton was in her element, her lithe form stretching out, basking under the dappled morning sunlight. There was a hypnotic beauty to her fluid movements, her muscles rippling under her azure skin like waves dancing across the ocean surface. Unfazed by her nudity, she stretched languorously, every movement accentuating the sculpted perfection of her athletic physique. Her black eyes, as fathomless as the ocean depths, sparkled with unrestrained mirth, and her crimson mohawk, wild and rebellious, shimmered with an inner fire against the soft glow of the sun.

Caught off guard, Yutjaa glanced down and promptly turned a shade of red that could rival a sunset. "Gurdy, you kraken-spawn!" she sputtered, trying her best to cover herself with her hands.

Gurdy, however, did not give a damn. "What?" She shrugged nonchalantly, a carefree grin playing on her lips, her laughter ringing through the tranquil forest. "This is a thing we’re doing, right?"

Yutjaa and Gurdy exchanged glances, their eyes filled with a mix of confusion and amusement. Yutjaa's brow furrowed as she tried to recall the events of the past few days.

"Wait, what happened? Why are we naked?" Yutjaa questioned, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern.

Gurdy scratched her head, her vibrant crimson mohawk catching the sunlight. "Hmm, it's all a blur to me. I remember we were on that quest to retrieve the ancient artifact from the Temple of Serenity. But after that... it's like my memory's been wiped clean."

Yutjaa nodded, her gaze distant as she tried to piece together the missing fragments. "Right, the artifact... and then everything went hazy. I vaguely remember a magical explosion, but the details are fuzzy."

Gurdy squinted up at the sky, using her nautical experience to gauge the passage of time. "Judging by the position of the sun, it seems like several days have passed since our last recollection. That means there's a significant gap in our memory."

Yutjaa's anger flared up, her frustration mounting. "Damn that elf! Illya must have messed up another spell. It's always her, isn't it? Where is she now? Probably hiding somewhere, thinking she can just disappear and leave us in this mess."

Gurdy raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with humor. "That sapling is probably scared that you will give her another tanning."

The two adventurers began scouring the area, their nakedness forgotten for the moment as they focused on locating their wayward companion. Gurdy scanned the landscape, even looking under a rock with a playful grin.The two adventurers began scouring the area, their nakedness forgotten for the moment as they focused on locating their wayward companion. Gurdy's eyes darted across the landscape, her gaze sweeping over every nook and cranny in search of any sign of Illya. As they moved deeper into the forest, their footsteps crunching on fallen leaves, Gurdy's playful grin remained fixed on her face.

After shifting her gaze from tree to tree, frustration began to boil within Yutjaa. She clenched her fists tightly and unleashed her anger upon the nearest tree, landing a series of powerful punches that reverberated through the forest. Each strike was fueled by her pent-up frustration, her muscles flexing with each blow.

Gurdy watched with a mix of amusement and concern, her playful grin transforming into a slight frown. "Yutjaa, calm down! We'll find her," she called out, her voice carrying a hint of worry. But Yutjaa's anger burned fiercely, driving her to continue her assault on the unyielding trees.

Yutjaa rolled her eyes, her frustration tempered by a hint of amusement. "That girl and her shenanigans. She's probably terrified of facing my wrath after yet another botched spell. Well, you better be ready kife-ears! When I catch yo you won’t be sitting for a fortnight."

As they continued their search, Yutjaa's anger simmered beneath the surface, a fiery anticipation of confronting their elusive companion. They combed through bushes, peered behind trees, and even checked the nearby stream, but there was no sign of the horned elf.

Gurdy scanned the horizon, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "She might be staring right at her and not even realize it."

“Oh, I’ll find her,” Yutjaa affirmed with a frown. She reared back her powerful arm, ready to deliver a punch to the next tree in her path. But as her knuckles made contact, there was a surprising softness, like punching a fluffy pillow rather than solid wood. The tree responded with a distinct “oof!” instead of the expected “thump.”

The pink-skinned girl emerged abruptly, her eyes wide and gasping for breath. Illya stumbled forward, her legs giving way beneath her, and she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms protectively around her stomach. A dainty “Ooooh…” escaped her lips, a mixture of pain and surprise evident in her voice.

Gurdy seemed unfazed by Illya’s unexpected appearance. With a nonchalant shrug, she looked over at Yutjaa and remarked with a hint of amusement, “Oh look, there’s Illya.”

Illya, still gasping for breath, rolled on to her back still holding her belly. “Ooh… Yutjaa why do you always hit so hard?”

“Why throw a punch unless you aim to knock someone out?” the Shield-Sister quipped, briefly lifting her shoulders.

Illya's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as she desperately tried to cover herself. Being naked in the company of others was a new experience for her.In the solitude of the forest, she had known no shame, no judgment. But after a few years in the world of man learning the taboos of nudity she had become actuely embarrassed of being seen naked.

Yutjaa's stern expression hardened slightly as she spoke, her voice laced with irritation. "Illya, do you remember anything? What happened to us? How did we end up like this?"

Illya bit her lip nervously, her big black eyes darting from Yutjaa to Gurdy and back again. She could sense Yutjaa's anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to explode at any moment. The threat of a beating from her fierce orc companion loomed over her, but she had nothing to offer. "I-I don't remember anything," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I'm just as confused as you are."

Gurdy tilted her head, her red eyes filled with curiosity. "Come on, Illya, think hard. There must be something you remember, even if it's just a small detail."

Illya's brows furrowed as she wracked her brain, "I'm sorry, Gurdy," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "I wish I could help, but I don't remember a thing."

Yutjaa's patience wore thin as she clenched her fists, her anger simmering just below the surface. "Illya, you better not be hiding something from us. We need to figure out what happened, and we can't do that if you're keeping secrets."

Illya shook her head vigorously, her eyes wide with sincerity. "I swear, Yutjaa, I have no secrets to hide. I'm just as lost as you are."

"That's it, you lying Leafbrain!" Yutjaa grumbled, her frustration evident in her voice as she confronted Illya.

"No, Yutjaa! Not again!" Illya whined, knowing what was about to come next. Yutjaa's grip tightened as she pulled Illya across her lap, her hand raised in a disciplinary gesture.

Whack! The resounding sound of the spank echoed through the air, causing Illya to cry out in pain. "Ahhh! I can't take it!" she screamed.

Gurdy sauntered up with a nonchalant grace. "Orc-sister I would like to hang out here for a bit, look around for my lute," she remarked casually. Another swift spank interrupted her statement, causing Gurdy to flinch.

"Ow! I swear I didn't do anything!" Illya pleaded, hoping to sway Yutjaa's judgment.

"We need to keep moving, Gurdy," Yutjaa pointed out, her tone determined. "I'm sure we're close to Gnok lands. We'll leave a trail marker and come back once we have our bearings."

Another whack resounded through the air, making Illya's cries grow louder. "Gods have mercy!" she whined, desperately proclaiming her innocence amidst the disciplinary punishment.

"You're right as always, my friend," Gurdy conceded with a playful tone. "It's just that... do you remember that Khajiit singer I dated for a while?"

Another swift whack cut off her sentence, prompting Gurdy to wince. "Ooow!"

Yutjaa raised an eyebrow, curious about Gurdy's story. "Which Khajiit lover? The one who could sing? Or the one who couldn't?" she inquired, her playful tone revealing their shared history.

Gurdy pointed affirmatively, acknowledging Yutjaa's reference. "That's the one. We had a summer of passionate lovemaking. He wanted to marry me, but that's when you needed help with your sister. I left him waiting, but he gave me that lute, which had belonged to his mother."

Yet another whack interrupted Gurdy's nostalgic musings. Illya pleaded, “No more! Ouch!”

"I call bullshit, Gurdy," Yutjaa laughed, her voice filled with amusement. "You referred him a permafried leftist hippy multiple times. You were just with him because he was wielding an Oliphant's trunk."

Gurdy shrugged with a mischievous grin. "Worth a shot. That lute is one of my favorites though. Honest to Goddess."

Whack!

"Why?" Illya's flailing became more frantic, her face turning deep red.

"This is getting us nowhere," she grumbled, her gaze scanning the ground for a suitable switch.
Gurdy obliged, handing her Orc sister a fine bendy branch. "Maybe the Sapling has had enough, eh, Yutjaa? I sort of believe she doesn't know anything."

"Oh, thank you, Ms. Gurdy!" Illya scrambled out of Yutjaa's lap, clutching her warm derriere.

Yutjaa's lips turned down in disappointment. "We can use some of our money to replace your lute," the Orc stated decisively.

Gurdy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yeah? You're the best, Yutjaa! We could get one of those sick new ones with the ‘Thunderous Voice’ enchantments built-in? I've heard they can rattle the bark off of a tree."

Yutjaa frowned, considering the options. "Maybe we could find a suitable used one..."