No? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He tried to maintain his steely expression as Grolfir took something from the high table and then turned to present Gregory with a small rectangular black box. Gregory ran his fingers over the container before smoothly opening it up to reveal two items. One was an ornamental dagger of the same sort that he'd gifted Duraz, whilst the other item was instantly recognisable as the ring that had brought them into Arolius. Bright silver metal gleamed before his eyes, making even the polished blade of the knife seem dull in comparison. The ring now seemed to pulse with its own energy, and a part of that power called to him. He wasn't entirely comfortable with that. So, he removed the knife carefully without letting it touch the ring, and then snapped the box closed with the ring safely encased inside. The last time he'd seen that thing out in the open it had been burning someone alive from the inside out. If it was calling to him in any way then he sure as hell wasn't picking up the damn phone.

“Thank you, warchief." He bowed his head in respect to the highest ranking orc in the world whilst desperately hoping beyond hope that some sort of offering would magically appear for him to give in return.

Grolfir merely smiled and nodded amiably.

“I thought you might want that back as soon as possible. Just between us? The damned thing unsettles me. Good luck in finding its true nature. I hope it doesn't get you killed. For a human, you are not a bad orc." The warchief chuckled to himself and then surprised Gregory by raising his voice and making an announcement to the entire hall.

“And now for his gift to our people, Gregory has prepared a dance for us."

“I have?" The colour drained from his face. Oh shit. He'd had nightmares Like this. Soon he was going to be naked and everyone was going to be laughing at him.

Thankfully, that was when things began moving in the hall. A number of human slaves moved to push several tables together to form one Long one leading from the entrance and stopping just short of Gregory. They did this twice more until three rows of tables stood parallel to each other along the length of the vast room. The orcs sitting at the tables were curious enough to allow this after hearing the war chief give his approval. One of the humans, who Gregory recognised as one of the slaves from his own camp, emerged with a large chair and placed it just behind him, Grolfir and Borika shifted out of the way; as did the rest of The Runts who dispersed into the crowd after Ulf quietly took the black box from Gregory to hold on to after some urging. For the next part, it seemed he would need his hands free. That was not particularly encouraging.

The whole thing smelled of a set-up, but Gregory wasn't so sure it was aimed at humiliating him. At the promise of a dance, the orcs in attendance all shifted their seats along the newly lined-up rows of tables to watch. Then, from the far end of the hall there began the steady beating of drums. Nullik jumped up onto the surface of one of the tables and bowed low before everyone before rising up to address the gathering.

“Welcome! Tonight, our alpha gifts to you the story of Lerana the

Brave." With those uncharacteristically brief words, Nullik slipped from the table and shifted to the side between them.

The music had become more than a beat by that point, and a number of stringed instruments plinked out the sound of plentiful raindrops. They were soon accompanied by a shifting strip of metal that echoed with the noise of thunder. Gregory had noticed a number of the slaves had taken up positions along the table, but they were all cloaked in dull linen sackcloth that kept their identities hidden from him. As the sounds of the storm built up, the doors of the great hall were dramatically flung open, and inside stumbled a girl.

Gregory had thought that he would recognise Janette Riley anywhere, but her appearance as she cast herself onto the stone floor of the hall actually startled him. She was dressed in a mixture of leaves, sticks and rags. Together, they formed a dress that wasn't quite a dress.

Instead, it was more an intertwined mixture of the Embervine forest that had been very carefully wrapped around her voluptuous figure in order to keep her modest.

Its success in this regard was definitely limited. The upper slopes of her creamy breasts were bare, flowing smoothly upwards into equally nude shoulders and arms. Her red hair had been arranged to look as if her head were set ablaze with hot licks of flame. On her wrists she wore a set of green bracers that gave the barbaric appearance a martial twist. Her long legs were left bare, and though the garment she wore did just about manage to hide the spot between her legs, there was little to cover the curves of her bum except a sheer strip of fabric that fell about her hips. Her face was lightly streaked with gold and green paint, and she looked like some druidic warrior goddess come to life.

“Lerana was a human born into high honour and status," Nullik began.

“Yet when she was very young, she was abandoned here in our jungle by

Etriss, her wicked stepmother."

The part of Etriss was soon taken up by Lydia, who removed her cloak at the sound of her character's name and smoothly hopped up onto one of the rows of tables. A few gasps sounded off when it was revealed that

Lydia was quite clearly topless. Gregory's was certainly amongst them.