“Would it help if we were naked too?" Talina suggested whilst sporting quite the Cheshire Cat grin.

“Now, now," Valise Lifted her hand from rinsing Greg's shoulder, "we must not put him through anything remotely strenuous. I don't want him tensing up or exerting himself." She gave a pointed look to each of the three sex-hungry females in her presence. Then, upon thinking about it, she gave the same Look to Greg too. It was not a look to trifle with.

“Hey, don't mind me." Gregory innocently raised his hands as if he wouldn't dare even think such a thing. It wouldn't have been remotely convincing even if he wasn't sporting quite the prominent prow between them all.

"It's awfully tempting though." Janette looked at his member and absently Licked her lips until she realised what she was doing and quickly shut her lips together tightly.

“We could stick a flower on top of it and just treat it as part of the flora," Talina suggested.

“Talina, for fuck sake, laughing hurts," Greg managed to eke out between flashes of pain and insistent chuckles.

“Yes, master." She batted her eyelashes at him.

So, on alchemist's orders, Gregory set about doing as little as humanly possible for the next few days. Algra and Janette took mercy upon him and refrained from teasing him too much. Talina, on the other hand, was enjoying herself immensely by wearing her tiny little garments every time she stepped into his tent. It seemed like if she didn't leave him every time sporting a flag pole then she would consider the day a waste.

One evening Gregory found himself sat up in bed with Algra laid beside him. She had been his green guardian angel throughout the entire unpleasant experience. It had been her who had kept others at bay and let him rest. Several orcs had also tried to challenge Bolut again, seeing an easy target to get their hands on his wares. Algra had put a stop to that. Painfully.

Now the brutal orcish warrior was laid there beside her lover in mutually contented silence. They had been there Like that for over an hour, the only movement being when Gregory shifted his good arm to stroke his fingers through her hair.

“Did you dream?" Algra eventually shifted her head to look up at him. "Hm?"

"Orcs get hit on head often. My father once did and did not wake up for a day. When he opened eyes, he spoke of a long dream. He say he dream of my mother cooking. She always cook when scared."

It was an insight into Algra that Gregory found himself oddly surprised by. He tended to think of her as more of a force of nature than someone who'd had a mother and father. After considering the question, he remembered that he had, in fact, had dreams.

"Yes. I did. I remember dreaming of you and Janette a lot."

Algra smiled and Lifted her hand to rest over his where it had come to rest against her cheek.

“Nice dreams?"

Gregory's expression seemed a Little bit distant and slightly troubled. "No. I was running towards you but the world was moving me away. I ran faster and faster and you both disappeared further into the distance."

“We are here now." Algra settled her lips upon his shoulder and snuggled a Little closer without hurting him.

"I know. I'm glad." Her warmth felt so good beside him and she smelled of the surrounding forest. Sweet and spicy.

“There was another. A dream that started as a nightmare." He Looked up to the canopy overhead as he recalled the sparse details. "There was white fire everywhere. Like the whole world was set alight and I was right there at the centre of it all. Everything around me burned with fire, but I didn't. Then I saw the fire wasn't doing what fire usually does. Instead of destroying what it touched, the things in the fire were remade whole again. The flames went out over newly reforged forests and mountains. Then, overhead, I saw a huge black dragon flying away, lighting up the darkness ahead with that white fire."

As Gregory fell silent, Algra lifted herself up. He felt her long black hair spilling across the muscles of his chest to create a pleasant, silky, tickling sensation across his skin. She looked down upon him, suddenly serious.

“You heard my story.”

“Story?” Gregory was pretty sure he hadn’t heard anything.

“The tale of The First. It is old tale of orcs. Perhaps oldest tale ever. The First Dragon was creator of all. Born of night. He flew out to the sunlight and claimed part of it for his own. That light was his fire and he use that fire to make our world. Then, after ages past, the sun began to die. It turn from yellow to red. The First flew up from the world to give sun back the power he had taken in the beginning. He gave it over and the sun burned yellow again, but the First fell from the sky and died, along with all his kin. I told you this story as you slept."

“Wow, sounds pretty epic." Gregory Lifted his head and lightly kissed the tip of her chin.