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Might Is Merit: A Rivenwelle Tale


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REUPLOAD (Posted in the wrong forum lol)

This is the first chapter of a commission for @Zuorsara!
Lots of setup/scene building here, but hopefully it's still enjoyable heh

CHAPTER 1: The Expedition

*BAM BAM BAM*

Melina Malwick awoke with a start to the sound of a harsh pounding at the door to her quarters. She quickly bolted upright, promptly bonking the back of her head against the low-sitting shelf situated just above her desk with a dull *thud*. She immediately lurched back over, wincing and sucking air through her teeth as pain blossomed from the impact point; a throbbing ache that radiated all throughout her cranium. Biting back a curse and blinking the stars out of her eyes, the young woman sat up more carefully, massaging her head through her honey-blonde curls as she peered down at the yellowed pages of the reagent guide she’d been perusing when she fell asleep.

-the practical applications of springsprig are a source of debate among most alchemic scholars, though claims have been made of its ability to soothe burns, and some even posit that it can be used to treat werewolf bites if combined with the fungus from aetherwood trees. Furthermore, the-

The following words were nigh intelligible over the next few lines, the ink looking to have been smudged by a few blotches of some sort of dried stain…she’d been drooling.

Lovely.

Sighing, Melina straightened up from under the shelf, still rubbing at her head. She looked towards the wooden slat and the collection of utensils, books and tomes upon it, trying to see if any of them had tumbled over. Everything seemed orderly; not one delicate instrument or decaying, mildewed spine out of place. She winced again as the light reflecting off the many beakers and vials shone into her eyes, exacerbating the throbbing pain in her still tender head. As she scrunched them closed and brought a hand up over her face to block out the glare, the knocking came again, even louder this time.
“Melina!” an agitated female voice called from the other side of the door. It was Priscilla, fellow alchemic apprentice and Melina’s best friend since childhood.. They’d done nearly everything together before and since coming under Master Arwen’s tutelage, and were considered some of his brightest pupils... even at the relatively young age of 19.

Another couple loud knocks. “Melina...Are you awake!? We’re leaving soon and Master Arwen says he won’t wait for anyone today! Hurry up!”

Melina’s blood turned to ice as she realized that she’d woken up late, again...On today of all days.
“Dammit!” She hissed as she hurriedly pushed back from the desk, glaring towards the door.

“Nng… I’m coming, Pris, just… tell him I bumped my head, but I’m on my way!” She called, hurriedly smoothing out the wrinkles on the roughspun cotton tunic and trousers she’d accidentally slept in.

There was a huff from the other side of the door.

“You’d better be! If you leave me to go by myself with these tosspots, I’ll deck you when I get back!”  The exclamation was followed by a series of angry-sounding footsteps away from the door, accompanied by some intelligible grumbling.
Melina leapt to her feet, stumbling a little as the feeling began to return to her legs from her strange sleeping position.. She rubbed at her thighs, trying to soothe the sore muscles in it as she quickly glanced around her cramped little quarters. There was little space to move around, as most of it was taken up by the large alchemist’s desk she’d accidentally slept at. It filled a whole wall by itself and jutted a few feet into the room, crowding her bed, nightstand and wardrobe into whatever little extra corners they could fit into in the tiny cabin and giving one an accurate perception of Melina’s priorities. Of course, that desk was certainly earning its keep; every inch of it  was covered in sheets of crumpled parchment, half-rolled scrolls and the odd quill still tracing ink across the hard wooden surface. A stack of quick and messy writings Melina had been cobbling together sat under a spent candle-holder, and she could see the dried splotches of wax on the parchment where the candle had spilled over.

Blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face, Melina strode over towards the ratty oaken wardrobe shoved unceremoniously between her workstation and the bed, practically squished on either side by the furniture. With a sigh, she pulled open the doors, reaching in to grab a tanned hide vest, a rawhide belt, and her favorite pair of leather boots she wore whenever she conducted any outdoor experiments.

She hurriedly pulled the vest on over her tunic as she looked around on the ground for a belt, cursing her late start. What a way to be on the morning of her first real alchemic expedition of the season. She’d been looking forward to this day for weeks now; re-reading all the field notes from previous alchemists’ journeys, meticulously poring over all known maps of their designated area cross-referenced with contributions from Man, Elf and faefolk... she’d even got herself a fresh new mortar and pestle from the market a few days ago, untainted by her previous experiments, in preparation for this excursion.

 But, of course when the time came, she had just slept right through the rooster’s crow, slumped over on a book, like always.

It wasn’t as though she’d not had a good reason…why, she’d been up half the night poring over her old texts, trying to remember the specific functions of each reagent she expected to encounter. In fact, she hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, having told herself she’d read only one chapter before bed…a lie she’d fed herself for hours on end as she “one-more-chapter”ed her way through half the book.

With another sigh, she quickly dropped to her hands and knees, coughing at the dust she kicked up as she reached under her bed and pulled her old traveling knapsack out. She thanked her lucky stars she’d had the foresight to at least halfway pack it with supplies… it already contained her notebook, her field guide, a couple flint rocks for fire and her whittling knife. She got back to her feet, darting around her room and grabbing random bits of parchment and a quill to stuff haphazardly into the pack, her anxiety at being left behind mounting with every minute. As she stuffed the pack strap between her teeth and threw herself onto the bed to begin pulling on her boots, there was another knock at the door.

“Melina?” said another voice, though this one was male, belonging to Master Arwen’s eldest apprentice, a young man named Ewand.

Reddening at having yet another of her colleagues come to enquire about her whereabouts, Melina set her jaw. “I uhweddy told Pwif, Ull be out inna minnuf!” She exclaimed around a mouthful of leather as she wrestled the first boot onto her foot.

The voice on the other side of the door waited a moment before speaking.

“…Sorry, Mel, I…just wanted to make sure everything was okay… you’ve been talking about this trip forever, I’d’ve thought you’d be the first one up…” He finished with a chuckle.

Melina scowled as the blush on her cheeks deepened. She spat out the pack strap, glaring at the door. “I said I’ll be out in a second, leave me alone!” She hissed, a bit more harshly than she meant to.

Another stretch of silence.

“Okay, uh…well, we’re meeting over by gateposts…Arwen’s already there, so, better move fast…” The boy said, sounding quite deflated as he turned and left.

Melina immediately felt a surge of guilt at her snappy response as she continued to struggle with her clothes, huffing gently. She also noticed a twinge in her bladder, urging her to take her morning pee, but she brushed the sensation aside. This was her third tardy in as many weeks; the fact that she was allowed to come along at all was a miracle. She had no time for anything but getting dressed and getting out.

She tugged on her second boot and quickly stood up, turning to the smudged mirror propped up against the bed as she grabbed a piece of cloth from the dresser. She glanced at her svelte form in the glass as she pulled her wavy, golden locks back into a ponytail behind her. Her bright blue eyes peered anxiously back at her as she worked on tying her hair off, her teeth chewing her bottom lip as she pulled the cloth tight. She scooped up the knapsack and pulled her cloak from its hanging perch next to the door, throwing it over her shoulders before taking one last cursory glance around the room. With a nod, she strode to the door, pulling it open and heading out into the morning light.

 

The cool, misty morning air greeted Melina as she stepped out of her cabin, the dew on the grassy knoll twinkling in the light of the barely risen sun as it peeked over the roofs of her fellows’ cabins.

All of Arwen’s apprentices lived in a little collection of huts at the edge of the village, where they could conduct their strange and possibly dangerous experiments without worrying about being a nuisance to the rest of the town. It was odd for a master alchemist to take on more than one protege, let alone a whole class of them... but Arwen was adamant about ‘fostering the next generation curious minds’, as he put it, and Melina was glad of it. His wisdom and knowledge were invaluable to her development in her craft, and he’d also come to be somewhat of a father figure to her after she’d left her small village of Ockley for the capital all those years ago.
Melina's cabin was the furthest up of the bunch, with a direct path down towards the wooden posts signaling the furthest edge of the town, a little ways away from the thick forest that covered the rest of the horizon. Behind her was a short jaunt up to castle town proper, and beyond it, shrouded by early morning fog, was Lothlowell Castle, home of the royal family of Rivenwelle. Melina had never seen the royal family, save for the occasional processional, and all she knew of them were the stories she’d heard from Master Arwen about how their mandate for expansion into the forest for lumber, stone and spices had brought prosperity to the city…at the expense of some of the forest’s denizens.

 

Melina squinted down the path, her heart beating anxiously. What if she was too late? What if she’d been left behind? She strode further from the cabin, craning her neck as she came up over the hill...and to her great relief, she could clearly see all of her fellow apprentices clustered around the wooden posts, no doubt receiving a pre-excursion briefing from their Master.
She felt her shoulders sag, releasing their tension.They hadn’t left yet.

She took off in a sprint down the slick path, taking care not to slip as she hurried towards the small gathering.

As she approached, she realized the reason for the delay; she could hear Master Arwen’s thin, reedy voice rambling on in one of his long-winded musings, no doubt on his opinions of some controversial alchemic practice or other. The closer she got, the more of his words she could make out.

 

“…And of course, one can always conjecture about the morality of harvesting dragon dung, but I believe the temerity involved in such a task would- ah! Melina!”

 

The group of apprentices turned as Melina raced towards them, moving aside to reveal a tall, slender man clad in his own long tunic and trousers, wrapped in a cloak that was a bit too short for his lanky build. He was bald save for a shock of white hair around his crown, and a pair of equally white bushy eyebrows wiggled above a mismatched pair of eyes; one jade green, one an almost translucent violet. Both of them focused on Melina as she ran up to him, panting heavily from the sprint.

“Miss Malwick…” He murmured, his thick white mustache twitching comically as he regarded his breathless apprentice. “I do hope you realize this is your third tardy this month?”

Melina slowed to a stop in front of her fellows, immediately hunching over with her hands on her knees, her chest heaving as she worked to catch her breath.

Apologies, Master Arwen…” She gasped. “Up late…studying texts…springsprig...”

The man snorted gently. “Hmm…trying to appeal to my love of a studious mind, eh, Miss Malwick?” He murmured, waggling a finger at her. “’Tis no excuse for multiple lapses in punctuality, my dear. Why, it’s only by providence you arrived before we left…though I suppose I did get a bit carried away myself…er, did I answer your question, Priscilla, dear?” He asked, his eyes shifting to a young, molasses-skinned woman with curly, dark hair, her considerable hips cocked to the side as she was addressed.

“Yes, Master Arwen, thank you.” She murmured, her hazel eyes shifting towards Melina with a knowing grin.

Melina’s cheeks reddened slightly, and she returned it gratefully, mouthing “thank you” to her friend as Master Arwen turned about. “Well now, since we’re all here…” He said, planting his hands on his hips and looking ahead towards the dense treeline. “Best we get started, eh? To the forest!”

~~

Melina fell in next to Priscilla as the group started down the dirt path, the sun climbing higher as they walked.

“Thanks for that…” She muttered, shouldering her pack. “Were you waiting long?”

Priscilla smirked. “Long enough. I could tell Arwen was getting ready to shove off, so I…asked a simple question about his views on harvesting reagents from living creatures, and let him take it from there. Figured that ought to buy you at least ten minutes…”

Melina chuckled. “That all? Looked like he was just warming up when I got there…”

Priscilla laughed in return, her eyes sparkling. “Guess I should be thanking you, then, huh? But seriously…” her mirthful disposition diminished as she fixed her friend with a concerned glance. “...You know how he is about these expeditions, Mellie. ‘The position of the cosmos determines our luck’, and all that. He really might’ve left without you…And you’re coming up on your 20th winter, you really should be past such things...”

Melina’s smile faded, and she sighed. “I know, I just…I really was up all night...I wanted to make sure I was as prepared as possible, you know? I spent the whole bloody evening in that Codex of Reagents Moste Currious…”

At this, Priscilla frowned. “Mel…tell me you didn’t fall asleep at your workstation again…”

When the blonde only offered a sheepish smile, Priscilla rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Honestly, Mellie, you know how dangerous that is!" She admonished her friend with a disapproving glare. "Just imagine if you’d tipped over your candle, o-or broken one of your vials! We work with extremely volatile materials!” 

Melina sighed again, adjusting her knapsack. “I know, Pris, I know…” She muttered, but she knew her friend’s words to be true. A good alchemist never worked past the point of exhaustion. Lack of sleep led to slower reflexes and impaired spacial awareness, and one was always only one clumsy move away from knocking over a flask of distilled wyrmsbane or a tin of blanched oakenfrog skin and blowing a hole in the floor. She really should have been more careful...

As they continued to walk, Melina felt another twinge in her abdomen…a signal from her bladder that it would require her attention soon. She wasn’t surprised…she hadn’t relieved herself since early yesterday evening before sequestering herself to her cabin to pore over her notes…something that made it her late awakening even more unfortunate as it had caused her to completely forgo a visit to the privy before joining her fellow apprentices.

However, it mattered not. Melina was blessed in many areas; a powerful mind, a steady hand...and a surprisingly large and unequivocally strong bladder. If there was anything Melina was good at, it was holding her waters far longer than one would expect from a girl of her size and age. Nearly a day could pass and she’d hardly feel an urge, whilst her friends availed themselves of the village cisterns more than a few times before she even went once. It was something she prided herself on, in fact, and it was especially helpful during the times when she concocted Erlung Draughts that required near constant supervision for hours on end in a manner that would leave lesser women either abandoning their workstations, or pulling aside their gussets to gush into the dirt below them.

“...Hey…”
Melina was jostled out of her introspection by Priscilla’s elbow, the girl peering at her with a frown. “Where’d you go?”

Melina blinked with a slightly rosy face, shaking her head. “Ah, sorry, just…thinking about today…I still can’t believe Arwen’s actually taking us to the lumencap patch…”

Priscilla’s expression of concern blossomed back into a wide grin. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I’ve heard that during a full moon, they glow so brightly that it looks like daytime…” She breathed, her eyes misting over.

Melina’s own smile widened in response. “And they say the pure extract from the tip’ll make you giddy for a few moments, if you harvest it at the right time…of course, that’s if you believe in such things, I myself am more interested in how the shavings from the stem reacts in a Tangellian Tincture...” The young alchemist’s walking speed increased in speed as her excitement rose, forcing her friend to jog a little to catch up.
“How brightly d’you reckon they’ll be glowing? It’s still early spring so we’ve not got a full day of sun yet...” Melina pressed on. “Master Arwen says just after dawn or dusk’s the best time to see them…we shouldn’t be off by too much, and I brought my own mortar! I can sample the caps-”

“Oi, ease up, Mellie…” Priscilla chuckled, re-shouldering her own pack. “We’ve gotta get there first…”

Melina suddenly clammed up, realizing that she’d begun to ramble, just like Arwen. “Ah...sorry…” She chuckled, running her hand through her hair again. In truth, she took after their Master in more ways than she’d care to admit, both in passion for the subject and a willingness to go to great lengths for the sake of an experiment...beyond what the general populace would consider “responsible”. even.
“Step lively, we’re broaching the treeline!” Master Arwen called from the front of the group. “Remember, stay on the path! Wouldn’t want any of you lot getting lost!”

The troupe entered the forest, and immediately Melina wrapped her cloak tighter around her as the meager warmth from the morning sun was expunged by the leafy canopy above them. The forest itself was already awake; Melina could see a cluster of thrushes chasing each other around the branches, singing their merry songs without a care in the world. The dewy brush crunched wetly under their feet as they ventured past all manner of oak and spruce, the buzzing of cicadas flitting in and out of their space. They walked for quite some time, venturing further into the forest than Melina had ever gone. It seemed even more alive the deeper they went, with rabbits and foxes and beavers and badgers hopping and racing to and fro.

As they came to a babbling brook, Arwen suddenly stopped, throwing out his hands to prevent the group from moving forward. He stood there, staring at the opposite bank for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen.
Melina shifted a bit where she stood, the sound of running water not doing her any favors in her current condition.
After a few more moments, the reason for the stop became clear as a creature stepped out from behind a stone outcropping. It looked to be a large deer, though its fur was bright silver and looked to be quite valuable. Its antlers looked precious as well...great curved horns of gold that caught the light of the dappled sunbeams and sparkled like a duke’s treasure room.
The group waited with bated breath as it approached the stream, kneeling its proud head to drink from the passing current.
Melina could hardly believe it. She’d read of these mythical deer plenty of times before, but never had she gotten to see one in person. It was said a sliver of their horns in any liquid could grant the drinker astoundingly good luck.
The creature gently lapped up the water before raising its head to regard the group with translucent blue eyes. Melina felt her breath catch in her throat… the creature’s eyes were intelligent, calm… but there was a wisdom there, too, that she hadn’t expected to see.
The deer watched the troupe of alchemists for a moment longer, holding them in its mesmerizing gaze, before turning and heading off deeper into the forest.
The party let out a collective breath as the creature left, with Master Arwen taking out his handkerchief and dabbing his shiny bald crown.
“Goodness…” He breathed. “I hope you’re all writing this down…” He murmured, turning to see his students already shuffling around in their packs for their notebooks.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, save for Ewand tripping over a root and frightening a burrowing mole and nearly pitching headfirst into a shallow ravine, prompting a quick lecture from Master Arwen about the importance of keen eyesight. They continued on the path, and Melina kept her eyes peeled for any further fantastic creatures to document, though none appeared.
At last, they broke the treeline into a grassy meadow littered with felled, mossy trees... and each trunk was positively overrun with golden-capped mushrooms. The vibrant fungi seemed to be soaking up the late-morning sun from up above, and each mushroom pulsed in a gentle rhythm as they held the sunlight in their tender little stalks.

A chorus of gentle “oohs” and “ahs” went up from the troupe as they made their way into the clearing. Already Melina had taken out her mortar and knife, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
“Yes, yes, gather about, all of you!” Arwen called as he strode up to the nearest rotting log. “This is the densest concentration of lumencap in Rivenwelle! Exceptionally rare, this mushroom...can anyone tell me why?”

Melina’s hand immediately shot up, causing Arwen to chuckle. “Yes, Miss Malwick?”

Melina cleared her throat. “Lumencap is a very temperamental fungus that needs very specific conditions to grow. This tree is aetherwood, believed to have been enchanted due to dawnfarer faefolk making their nests in its branches. When the tree dies, the latent magics are believed to continue to propagate within the trunk, bearing a mushroom that can absorb sunlight.”
Master Arwen’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Quite right, my dear! And why else is it so valuable? Anyone?”
At this, a tall, redheaded young man with the barest hint of a beard spoke up. “Lumencap is said to react differently according to the species what ingests it. To humans, it’s medicinal...to centaurs, it is said to cause visions...and for others, it can have other effects...even...er...be an aphrodisiac…” He murmured, his pale cheeks coloring as a few of the girls in the troupe giggled. Melina rolled her eyes at them, scoffing at their fawning over the young swain.
Master Arwen nodded. “Correct you are, Ewand. It is by luck that the Crown’s influence has stretched this far; we should be able to harvest without interruption. But I once again advise caution...beyond this grove is the Wildlands, beyond the King's jurisdiction, and well... let’s just say you don’t want to be caught out here after dark.” He murmured ominously, peering around at his assembled students.
Suddenly, his face brightened. “But enough sordid warnings. Everyone, to a log!” He chirped.

Melina was already upon a felled tree, knife in hand, sawing away at the glimmering stalk of a mushroom. Her brow was furrowed, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration as her entire world narrowed to the shimmering fungus before her. A few of the other apprentices had done the same, though a few of the girls were still swarming around Ewand as he hunched over his own log.

Priscilla knelt next to her friend, chuckling. “That didn’t take long…” She murmured, looking over at the little entourage Ewand had accrued.
Melina rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Honestly, we’re supposed to be out here doing research and collecting samples, not giggling like common chambermaids.” She muttered, finally sawing through the mushroom and dropping it into the mortar before going for another.
Priscilla smirked. “As if you can really blame them...Ewand’s a lovely lad...tall, strong...kind…” She murmured, causing Melina's countance to sour even more. Priscilla bit her lip, glancing back over at the man as he tried to work whilst simultaneous entertaining his little band of admirers. “What’s not to love?”

Melina looked up over at Ewand, his broad shoulders flexing as he pushed the log up to get at a root underneath...and her gaze slowly slipped to Priscilla, her delicate chocolate curls gently cascading over her shoulder, her tanned skin gleaming like bronze in the sunlight.
The young blonde reddened, going back to her sawing. “He’s not my type.” She muttered resolutely.

~~

The rest of the morning passed peacefully, with Master Arwen walking around and observing his apprentices at work, often stopping to comment on a peculiar fungus or a decidedly fragrant underbelly of a log and telling them to make note of it.
When they broke for a late lunch, Melina reluctantly left her work to scarf down the bit of roast ham and bread Priscilla had brought, taking a swig from her water skin to wash it down. Now that she was distracted, her bladder once again impressed upon her its rapidly increasing fullness, causing her to squeeze her thighs together. She definitely could go for a wee now, and this would probably be the best time to do it...but the designated spot set aside for doing their business was a bit of a trek back the way they’d come. It’d be at least a 10 minute trip altogether, and they only had a few more hours out here; she didn’t know when she’d be able to pass this way again. She resolved to wait until the end of the expedition; she could clean up, take a quick pee, and everything would be fine. Her bladder was more than strong enough to hold it till then.

By the time the sun had crossed the height of the day, coming closer to kissing the other horizon, Melina had all but filled her pack with the luminescent mushroom, scribbling down all manner of note and observation in her journal. Nearly a third of the pages were filled, and she showed no signs of stopping.
There was a rustle from behind her, and Priscilla emerged from the brush, looking quite relieved. “Wow...almost left that too late, I was right busting, I was…” She chuckled as she came back to the harvesting spot. “Sure you don’t need to go? It’s been a while since lunch…That’s a long time, even for you...”
Melina set her jaw, feeling her bladder grumble again within her yet again. “I’m fine.” She said resolutely, continuing to write in her journal.
Priscilla shrugged. “Suit yourself…” she murmured as her eyes dropped to their respective hoards. She had gathered her fair share of lumencap, but her meager collection paled in comparison to the bulging knapsack next to her friend.
“Blimey, Mellie…” She chuckled. “Didja take every damn mushroom in the grove?”
Melina straightened up, wiping a bit of sweat off her brow and tucking her knife away. “Who knows when we’ll get to come back here?” She murmured, looking up. “I have to get enough samples to last me the rest of the season…”
Priscilla smirked and shook her head, planting her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Mellie, if you weren’t so late all the time, Master Arwen would name you a full-fledged alchemist in a heartbeat, you’re so intense about it…”
Melina got to her knees, wincing as the day’s worth of pee in her abdomen pressed down on her sphincter. “Ah...er, well, I’ll just have to work that much harder, then. I’ve almost got the rendering of this-”
“Ten minute warning, lads and lasses!” Master Arwen called, his bald head gleaming in the light of the setting sun. “Finish up what you’re doing!”
Melina frowned, looking up. Time to leave, already? She looked down at her unfinished drawing, biting her lip. This was the last sketch she needed for her notes..maybe she could hurry up and finish it. But in doing so, she would forfeit a chance to take a wee, and her bladder felt far fuller than she had anticipated, bordering on discomfort. For a few tense moments, she looked between her notebook and the path towards the relief area, biting her lip.
After a short while, passion and studiousness won out over biology, and Melina simply crossed her legs in the dirt as she knelt back down to finish the drawing.

Just as she put the final labels on the crown of the rendering, Master Arwen’s voice sounded throughout the clearing again.
“Alright, that’s time! Pack away your instruments, it’s time to head back!”
Flushed with success at having finished in the nick of time, Melina smiled to herself as she carefully packed away her journal, knife and a couple more lumencaps.
As she stood up, she immediately hunched over as gravity pulled on the pee-filled organ within her. “Nngg…” She groaned, bringing a hand up to her abdomen.
Priscilla looked up in concern as she put away her own tools. “Mellie? Are you alright?”
Melina winced as a sharp pain gnawed at her abdomen, but after a few moments it subsided to a more manageable level. “Y-yeah, I’m fine…” She grunted. “Just...a bit sore from hunching over all day, is all…” She muttered, straightening up fully as she shouldered her pack.
The two of them headed over to rejoin the group, with Melina taking smaller, jerkier steps than her friend. By Eoth, she needed a wee. She’d definitely left it a bit late, and now she was paying for it. As Master Arwen began counting to make sure all his students were accounted for, Melina subtly shifted her weight from foot to foot in a manner she hoped was inconspicuous; the dull ache in her abdomen no longer something she could ignore, but she still didn't much like the prospect of everyone noticing her need for the privy...
“Right then…” The man murmured. “Seems we’ve got the same number of heads we did whence we started, so… back to town! With a will, folks, sunlight’s fading fast!"

As they started back off into the forest, Melina’s steps continued to be short and awkward despite her attempts to move normally. Her bladder simply would not calm itself, forcing her to alter her gait to accommodate its increasingly uncomfortable fullness. After a few minutes of watching this, Priscilla huffed and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at her friend.
“Okay, Mellie, what’s going on? You’re waddling around like you’ve got a broom up your arse…”

Melina swallowed, her cheeks reddening as she realized she’d not been as discreet as she’d hoped. “I told you, it's no-"

"Melina." Priscilla cut in with a hard stare. "Cut that shite out and tell me what's wrong." She commanded, her gaze expectant and unfaltering. 

Melina bit her lip, debating within herself, but she knew the jig was up. With a sigh, she turned back to her friend. "O-okay, okay...Erm...So, you know how I woke up late today?”

Priscilla nodded, her eyes never leaving Melina's face.

Melina cleared her throat. “Well, like I said, I was studying last night...and I fell asleep at my desk, and then I woke up, and I...I didn’t want to be even more late, so I...I didn’t...go, this morning…” She muttered.

Priscilla blinked, the levers in her head turning as she connected the pieces of Melina’s story in her head. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “You mean you haven’t had a wee since last night!?” She hissed.

Melina winced at the word “wee”, but she nodded. “I-It’s normally not a big deal, I...just left it a bit late this time, I suppose…” She muttered, bringing a hand up to her abdomen.
Priscilla pursed her lips. “Do you want me to ask Arwen to stop? I’m sure he’d-”

No.” Melina huffed automatically. “I’m not gonna have them thinking I’m some sort of willy-shinned lass who holds up the party so she can tinkle. I’ll be fine till we get back to town.”

Priscilla still looked unsure, but she knew better than to argue with Mellie about this. “If you say so…”
~~~
As the sun dipped lower, the forest grew darker, the trees casting looming shadows over the party as they made their way back through.
“Careful here...we’re passing the ravine…” Master Arwen’s voice echoed over the buzzing of cicadas. “It’ll be harder to see in the dark, so take care to regard your surroundings!”

The further they went, the less sure Mellie was about her ability to make it back dry...she couldn’t recall the last time she’d been this desperate for a wee. Her bladder felt like a gourd in her abdomen, full beyond capacity and quivering with the effort to hold back what surely would be a river’s worth of golden nectar. It didn’t help that every time she’d wince or whimper, Priscilla would look at her with concern... Melina hated feeling pitied. If anything, her friend's gaze bolstered Melina’s strength, causing her to tighten her muscles further to prove that she would not be bested by her acute desire to urinate.

“Melina…” Priscilla murmured after several more minutes of walking, a hint of pleading in her voice. “Honestly, why are you torturing yourself? We can just ask Master Arwen to stop, he’ll-”
“I said I’m fine, Pris…” Melina huffed, glaring at her friend. “I told you, I can hold it as long as I- AHHH!”
Melina’s thought was cut off as her foot caught on a root, causing her to stumble aside. The loose brush slid from underneath Melina’s feet, and she slipped sideways, plunging headfirst into the shadowy ravine.

“MELINA!” Priscilla yelled after her as she landed with a *thud* on the verdant hillside, nearly forcing a spurt from her as she began tumbling head over heels down the leafy slope. She couldn’t see anything as she bowled further down into the forest; all she could do was tuck her head into her hands and hope for the best.
She rolled and tumbled for a good few minutes, wincing as brambles and dead branches cut into her arms and legs and trying to fight the queasiness the rolling motion was stoking in her. Finally, she felt the decline level out, rolling her over a log and pitching her right into a tree.

*OOF!* She grunted as she smacked against the trunk before coming to rest at its base.
Groaning, she slowly sat up, rubbing her arm. She shook her head a few times to clear out the dizziness, blinking her eyes in the dim coolness of the forest floor. She was still alive, so that was good...She flexed her fingers and her toes. Nothing felt broken, so aside from a bit of nausea, she was completely fine...other than the bulging bladder she was still nursing, of course..

She slowly staggered to her feet, blowing air out of her mouth as she looked around. Fear, hot and sour, bloomed in her chest as she peered around the darkened landscape; she had no idea where she was. She swallowed, turning to look back towards the hill she’d rolled down, but with the sun having all but set, it was far too dark for her to attempt to climb back up; she’d just end up getting herself more lost. Wincing again as her bladder throbbed within her, Melina finally shot a hand between her legs, scooting back to lean up against the tree. She breathed heavily, tears welling in her eyes as she did her best not to panic.
Okay, think… she thought fervently to herself. It wasn’t that far of a fall. Pris’ll tell Arwen what happened, and they’ll find a way to get to you. You just have to wait. They'll be here in no t-
Suddenly, Melina heard a twig crack behind her. What was that!? She whirled about, but she could see nothing in the gathering gloom.
Swallowing again, she reached forward, snapping a branch of the log in front of her before digging in her pack for one of her flint rocks.

After a few tense seconds, her fingers closed around the jagged little stone, and she quickly pulled it out with a triumphant “Ha!”. She began scraping it against the wood, her heart hammering in her chest as she continued to glance anxiously around. “Come on, come on…” She hissed.
Finally, a flame sprung to life atop the branch. She quickly held it aloft, looking around the ravine to try and find any sort of landmark she could orient herself by… but there was none. None that she could recognize, anyway. She wasn’t sure how far she’d rolled from the path, but she was well and truly off of it.
Just then, Melina heard a rustling. It came from ahead, and it didn’t sound too far away. Footfalls, heavy and slow, began to approach. Melina felt nearly sick with fear, and as she reached into her pack to pull out her knife, she felt a bit of pee leak into her underthings; her bladder was still beyond full, but adrenaline numbed the pressure. She cowered back up next to the tree, sinking down into a crouching position. She swallowed, her eyes darting around and her heart beating so fast and hard she could hardly think.

The footfalls grew louder...closer...heavier…

Suddenly, the log in front of her was lifted up and tossed aside, revealing a group of  hulking figures standing a few feet from Melina. As they came into the light, Melina’s mouth opened in a soundless scream.
The creatures before her were huge, each at least 7 feet tall, towering over the cowering Melina. They each looked quite strong, judging by the taut, rippling muscles bulging under skin in varying shades of green. They were each dressed in boarhide pauldrons that linked over each shoulder and a loincloth that looked to be made of wolf-pelts. Their feet were tucked into a pair of enormous bearskin galoshes that appeared to be lined with foxfur, but that wasn’t the strangest part.
As Melina looked closer, she noticed the creatures were...female? She could make out wrappings around each chest concealing what must’ve been two mountainous breasts, and as her eyes traveled downward, she could see a well-muscled bare midriff fanning out into a pair of shapely hips that filled out the loincloths in a way Melina would’ve thought was quite nice, had she not been so terrified.
Finally, Melina forced her eyes to look up into their fearsome faces...the creatures’ beady eyes glared down at her over squat, bulbous noses, each regarding her with no small amount of hostility. Their mouths were curled up in a snarl, dusky green lips pulled back over sets of deadly-looking tusks. They all had a variety of hairstyles, from messy mohawks to sideshaves, to completely shaven heads. The one closest to Melina had a single braid, running from the tip of her forehead all the way down past her back, and in her hand was a fearsome looking iron battle-axe, the grip bound in leather.

“Hmm…” The creature grumbled in a rich, husky alto, squatting down next to Melina. Up close, Melina could really see the creature's face in detail. Her skin was rife with lines and crags, like hide stretched over a drum. Her eyes were a strange blend of amber and green, seeming to change in the light of Melina's torch. Her tusks were stained and worn, one of them bearing a golden band around it that glinted in the fire light.
“Man-cub..." She muttered again, her mouth curling into a bone-chilling grin. "Pretty far from your little village, arncha?” She cackled wickedly.
Melina said nothing, her voice completely stolen by fear. Her eyes bugged out as she regarded the creature in front of her, only able to look on in terror.
The amazon’s devious grin widened. “Oy, lasses, seems we’ve got ourselves a mutie.” She murmured, causing a low rumble of laughter to echo around the woman’s compatriots.
The green giant looked back at Melina, chuckling. “Yeh dumb, girl, or just scared? I-”

Suddenly, she stopped, narrowing her eyes and sniffing the air. “Ah…” She sneered, her eyes dropping to Melina’s crotch. “Scared it is. Smart lass. Can’t tell yeh how many of yer kind we’ve axed cause they didn’t have the good sense t’be afraid of the Kh’raven Tribe.” She muttered as she stood back up. “‘Course, it seems nunya have the decency t’be afraid of us orcs anymore, the way yeh come into our forest, take what yeh want and force the rest of us t’ either run away, kowtow and slave away for yeh, or be put t’the sword.”

Melina still said nothing, merely trembling on the ground in the face of what she was certain was going to be a painful death.
The orc woman rolled her shoulders, causing the muscles within them to ripple impressively. “I’ll tell yeh, we don’t take too kindly t’bein’ at the mercy of yer little pink arses. It’s demeanin’, it is… and it seems yeh all have forgotten who really rules these woods. Your king wagers we’ll all just lay down and submit...and we Kh’raven always settle our wagers, don’t we?”

Another rumble of laughter from the surrounding orcs.

Feeling was beginning to return to Melina’s body, and she swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back to her mouth. “W-whatever problems you have with the King,” She squeaked, a lot braver than she felt. “I have no part in it. I’m no royal, and I don’t claim to be. S-so just...air out your grievances with him if you must, and leave me be!”

One of the clean-shaven orcs snarled. “You dare speak to th’ captain of th’ Kh’raven Guard like that!? A good slap to yer slave-makin’ face oughta tame yer tongue…” She hissed, starting forward with her hand outstretched, but she was stopped by the leader’s outstretched arm.
“Easy, Malash…” the guard captain murmured, her eyes flitting back to Melina. Her expression was less wicked than it had been...She looked more curious than anything now.

“Got some fire in you, man-cub…” She grumbled, an undertone of admiration in her voice. “More’n I’ve seen from the rest of yer ilk, anyway. The Chief’s gonna be quite interested ‘n you... Ognil, Ghora.” She barked, getting to her feet. “Help our little pet up.”

Melina’s eyes widened in fear once more. Chief!? Was she going to be taken to their...their home!?

The orc called Malash peered dumbfounded at the guard captain as two other orcs stepped forward towards Melina, roughly hoisting her up by her arms. She yelped as the action jolted her ponderously full bladder, and immediately her thighs squeezed together as she fought to keep herself from leaking again.

“Yeh can’t be serious, Khamina…” Malash began, setting her jaw. “What use could th’ Chief have for a little worm like her? We should just kill her now and be done w-”
“The Chief’ll decide what she can have use for, Malash.” Khamina cut in coolly, though there was a bit of an edge to her voice that said she was not to be challenged. “‘Sides…”
She reached out, running a finger along Melina’s cheek with a smirk as she was dragged past. “‘Twould be a shame to kill a pretty little thing like her fer no reason. Alright, you lot, move out!” She ordered turning and striding away.
Malash scowled, casting one last dirty look at Melina before following the captain.
Melina herself could only swallow and pray, letting out a small whimper as the orcs dragged her away into the night.

TO BE CONTINUED….

Edited by Foxlover (see edit history)
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DISCLAIMER: Bit of a "dryer" (heh) chapter in comparison to the last one, but still important, and it sets up the final chapter to be posted next!

CW: FUTA. IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THAT, DO NOT CONTINUE PAST THIS POINT. I WARNED YE.


CHAPTER 4: The Wager

 Melina blew a piece of flaxen hair out of her eye as she moved around the entrance to the weapons’ hut, thatched broom in hand, sweeping away stray bits of straw and debris from around the shed as Khamina, the guard captain sat by a whetstone, meticulously sharpening the edge of her battle axe.

After a little more than a week’s worth of menial tasks for the orcs, the girl had changed somewhat in appearance. Her clothes consisted of little more than her roughspun trousers, boots and a sleeveless tunic with bindings around her chest to keep the rough material of her tunic from rubbing her breasts raw. She’d also fallen into somewhat of a routine; Each morning she’d have breakfast with Orla, then it was off immediately to the dining hall to clean up after the perimeter guard’s morning meal. She’d since mixed a tincture of limewort and saphroot which, when added to water, created a solution that practically neutralized all manner of germ and foodstuff on the dishes, leaving them ‘sparklier than an elf-whore’s nipple-studs’, according to Khamina. In the afternoon she’d avail herself of whatever chores the Chief assigned to her; sometimes she’d be back in Orla’s hut helping her mend torn britches and boots, or on days where there was an Endurance Match, throwing fresh water on the inevitable pools of urine on the battle pitch and covering it with fresh, clean dirt. Luckily, Urza had caught wind of the “special attention” the winners of these matches were getting, and the increased scrutiny made it so the orcs no longer propositioned the human serving girl for some after-battle “relief”. However, that didn’t mean she herself didn’t let her hands linger in places they maybe shouldn’t, the tiniest of smirks on her face at every twitch, snort and coo she was able to elicit when she prodded the right spot. Being the smallest and weakest person in the camp, it gave Melina a great deal of satisfaction to know she had some small power over these jade-skinned amazons...and she couldn’t deny the heat in her own core watching these broad-shouldered behemoths shudder in time with her ministrations.

In the evening she’d make her rounds through the perimeter guard, bringing them food if they were on the transition shift, and then back to chores while the rest of the camp was on leisure. The orcs had seemingly gotten used to Melina’s presence, and while they certainly weren’t all the way to hospitable, they were much less deliberately unkind as when she’d first arrived. Some of them had even engaged her in conversation; Khamina would always acknowledge her on her way out of the compound for scouting, as would Ognild and Ghora. With them gone, the camp was left to the eye of the perimeter guard for vigilance and protection.

This particular part of the day had been crucial to the plan she and Orla had come up with.

If Melina was going to win the match, she was going to need any advantage...or rather, her opponent was going to need a disadvantage. Orla explained that there was a fungus that grew in a patch not far from her called lumencap, and that it acted as a natural diuretic for orcs...one that worked extremely fast given orc-kind’s ridiculously fast metabolisms. Melina had found the revelation almost ironic given how she’d gotten into this mess, but the knowledge that she was already familiar with the reagent made her more confident. Every night, while everyone else slept, Melina and Orla would sneak out of the compound, underneath two rotted logs at the end of the wall near Orla’s hut, which conveniently lay in a blind spot for the guard towers. Orla led, since it was too risky to light a fire and her blindness meant she could navigate just as well in the dark as she could in the light.
When they got to the patch, the two of them would immediately get to work, filling their sacks with as much lumencap as they could before hightailing it back to the compound. They’d been doing this for the past several nights, and Melina had to admire Orla’s deftness in moving through the forest despite her handicap; they’d never once come close to being caught. In fact, according to Orla, they only need a couple more sacks of the stuff before they were ready for the next phase of their plan.

She was shocked out of her idle thoughts as her absentminded sweeping took her in the path of a stone, which she promptly tripped over.

“Careful there, man-cub....” Khamina grunted offhand as she lifted the axe to inspect her work. Melina righted herself immediately, reddening a bit and getting back to her sweeping.

“Dammit, edge keeps chipping…” Khamina grunted, frowning down at the blade in displeasure. Melina looked up at the miniscule chinks in the edge of the axe, and then at the orc herself. “You’re not doing it right…” She murmured.

Khamina looked up with equal parts annoyance and surprise, her lips curling over her tusks. “Fuck yeh mean, I’m ‘not doin’ it right’? I’m Captain o’ the guard, I been sharpenin’ me axe years before yeh got here, humie.” She grunted.

Melina pursed her lips, but she was undeterred. “The blade’s iron, isn’t it? Iron’s softer than steel, you need to apply less weight on the whetstone if you want the edge to be even.”

Khamina frowned, looking down at her blade and then up at Melina again with confusion. “Yeah? And how does a scrawny little thing like you know anythin’ about weapons?” She huffed, peering down at the girl curiously.

Melina went back to sweeping. “Back home my father was a blacksmith. He supplied the weapons to our local militia, and he’d bring me to the shop sometimes while mother was away on her seamstress work.”

Khamina grunted, looking back down at her weapon. Her eyes flitted briefly to Melina before she began honing the edge of the axe again...this time with a significantly lighter touch.

As Melina continued to sweep, she’d hear a grumble behind her. “Hmph...not bad, humie…” Khamina muttered as she held the axe aloft, looking at it with grudging admiration.

Melina smiled to herself as she continued to sweep, the praise from the orcess being no less satisfying for it having been reluctant. “I’m glad I could help.” She murmured. “Word is you’ve got a match tomorrow…”
Khamina snorted. “‘S’right. Against Malash. My mead’s been disappearin’, and I fuckin’ know it’s her. She keeps denying it, even when I can smell it right on her breath.”

Melina’s face darkened somewhat at the mention of Malash. Out of all the orcs in the village, Malash was the only one Melina actively disliked. Ever since Khamina’d kept Malash from harassing her, the dusky green orcess had had it in for Melina, tripping her whenever they passed by one another, “accidentally” spilling mead down Melina’s front...she’d even pulled her loin cloth aside to let go a boiling gout of piss on a spot of the floor Melina had just finished cleaning, and forced her to start over with a cackle.

“Hmph...she probably did. Arrogant green bitch…” Melina muttered, prompting a whistle from Khamina.

“Got some stones on you, man-cub, better not let her catch yeh sayin’ that…”

A thrill of fear went through Melina as she realized she might’ve just gotten herself in trouble, but as she turned towards Khamina, she realized the guard captain was smirking. “Yeah, she gets on my fuckin’ nerves too, but she’s not a bad sort, really. She’s just a bastard.” She murmured, shrugging.

In spite of herself, Melina chuckled… Khamina was probably the only orc besides Orla that Melina felt was on her side, somewhat. She stood to full height, stretching her back a bit from being hunched over sweeping. “Nng, well...bastard or not, I feel bad for her… I’ve heard no one’s ever beaten you in an Endurance Match before…”

Khamina smirked, rolling her shoulders back. “You’re damn right. I’m the fuckin’ best there is, ‘cept for the Chief… Hope Malash enjoyed my mead, cause I’m gonna make her spray the dirt with it.” She blustered confidently, holding up an arm and flexing a bicep proudly. Melina chuckled again, though her face was a bit red from the display...Khamina was, in truth, quite fetching for a hulking warrior.

“And not just strong, but...here, c’mere…” The guard captain beckoned Melina over with a crooked finger. The girl frowned, intrigued, setting down her broom and doing as Khamina asked. The orc glanced around to see that no one was watching, she swung her hips around and stretched upwards.

Melina’s eyes bulged out of her head as Khamina revealed a bulge in her abdomen that Melina had seen on some women back in her village when they were days away from giving birth. She’d never seen such a rotund protrusion being owed to a bladder before, but the skin around it was taut and stretched so thin Melina could all but hear the ocean of urine churning inside of it.

Khamina grinned at the awe clearly displayed on the girl’s face, obviously quite proud of the reaction she was able to elicit. “Two days, and not a drop missing. Malash’s ass is going in the dirt.” She boasted, snorting around her tusks.

Melina continued to stare, transfixed, at the quivering protrusion in the orc’s abdomen, her cheeks colored and her eyes somewhat glazed over. Khamina’s grin widened. “Heh...wanna feel it?”

Melina’s eyes looked up into the smirking captain’s for a moment, and there was hardly a moment of hesitation before she reached out, her hand running against the taut green flesh. “...Goodness…” She breathed. She’d seen impressive bulges on the orcs before, but feeling one pulsating beneath her fingers…

She swallowed, her cheeks darkening even more. Khamina’s lips pulled back over her teeth as her grin widened even more, reveling in the attention and seemingly unbothered by the hand running over the sensitive surface of her stretched bladder...though one could see the hitches in her breath as the girl prodded at it. Melina actually found herself unable to pull away; if the Guard Captain could be this full and show little to no signs of struggle, what chance would she have against the Chief? Orla had better have some plan…

“Oi!” Called a familiar voice from behind them, causing Melina to quickly pull her hand away and resume sweeping as Khamina picked her axe once more.

Malash sauntered up to the pair, looking just as grumpy and foul-tempered as ever. Khamina looked up at her, snorting as she set the axe back to the grindstone.

“Khamina, it’s nearly time for the guard to start rounds.” The orc said, looking her captain in the eye.

Khamina continued to sharpen her weapon, her gaze not leaving Malash’s. “I’m th’ captain, I know what time it is.”

Malash scowled. “So? Shouldn’t we be gettin’ on? Night’s nearly upon us’...” She muttered, pointing towards the northern end of the camp where the sun was hurriedly approaching the horizon.

Khamina huffed. “I’m the Captain, and we’ll leave when I say we leave.” She replied, a dangerous edge in her voice as she raised her glance towards her subordinate.

Malash snorted, her scowl deepening, but she didn’t dare contradict her superior...at least, not openly. Frustrated, she turned her gaze on Melina, still sweeping. “Oi, humie. You missed a spot... “ She huffed as she purposely kicked dust up into Melina’s face, causing her to cough and sputter as she tried to wipe the dirt out of her eyes.

Malash grinned, kicking away the girl’s broom and causing her to tumble to the ground with a chuckle. “Little pink weakling…” She sneered.

“Malash, that’s enough.” Khamina huffed, now glaring at the orcess.

Malash’s grin dissipated immediately, and she glowered up at the Captain. “Oi, what’s your problem? Ever since the humie got here you been treatin’ her like she’s yer pet or somethin’.”

Khamina set her jaw. “She’s workin’. All you’re doing is hinderin’ that.”

Malash crossed her arms. “I don’t think so, Captain, I think you’re gettin’ soft on us.”

At that, Khamina rose to full height, corpulent bladder and all. “And I think you need to watch who yer fuckin’ talking to, Malash.” She hissed, her face contorted in such a fury that it would likely give even the staunchest men nightmares.

Malash refused to back down now, though, even as Khamina got right up in her face, being a good two inches taller. “Hmph, maybe I’ll tell the Chief you’re gettin’ a little too attached to the meat…” She growled. “Maybe th’ guard needs a change in leadership…”

At that, Khamina lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Malash’s tunic and yanking her in with a fierce tug.

Melina watched from the sidelines, eyes still watering and heart beating as the two orc women glared at each other, anger and loathing on their faces, but...also something else...a deeper emotion Melina couldn’t quite parse through. Khamina’s eyes narrowed. “If yeh fuckin’ got something to say t’me, Malash…” She hissed in a dangerously low whisper. “...I’d be sayin’ it. I’m already putting your ass in the dirt for drinking my mead, yeh really wanna challenge me for the helm too? After what happened last time?” She snarled, her shoulders flexing menacingly.

Malash’s sneer persisted, but it seemed the threat was enough to make it so she decided to eat the loss.

“...No…” She grumbled, lowering her head even as her fists clenched by her side.

Khamina snorted again, backing up. “I thought so. Now get out of my fuckin’ sight.” She hissed, shoving the orcess away.

Malash set her jaw, still seething, but she did as she was asked, turning and stalking away.

Melina released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, looking back at Khamina. “...Wow... “ She breathed.

Khamina grunted. “Like I said…'' She muttered, her eyes glued to Malash’s retreating form. “A bastard.”
She hefted her axe, looking down at Melina. “You’re done here. Go on back to yer quarters.”

Melina nodded, scrambling up and fetching a broom, swallowing with a newly-rekindled fear of the orc captain. “Yes ma’am…” she muttered, turning and scurrying in the direction of Orla’s hut.
Khamina watched her go for a moment before taking a deep shuddering breath, reaching a big, meaty hand between her thighs and squeezing. “Fuck, that was close…” She hissed to herself.

Melina didn’t stop running all the way to Orla’s hut, her heart pounding in her chest and her legs feeling like jelly.

As she reached the small abode, she didn’t slow down, throwing open the door and dashing inside before slamming it shut behind her, still breathing heavily.

Orla looked up from the knife she was sharpening, frowning. “Melina?” She murmured, her sightless eyes turning in the direction of the girl’s heavy breathing. “What’s the matter?”

Melina continued to pant for a few more moments as she struggled to catch her breath, bits of hair sticking up at odd angles as she leaned against the door frame.

She swallowed, looking up at Orla. “I...Malash came by while I was sweeping up axe shavings around Captain Khamina...I-I think Malash was trying to challenge her for control of the guard…”

Orla blinked and rolled her eyes, going back to her tincture. “Oh, those two again… it’s all bluster, Malash isn’t actually going to do anything...especially not after last time…”

Melina pushed off of the door, rubbing her legs. “Captain Khamina said something similar, what...happened?” The girl asked, glancing at the small window above the table to make sure no one was coming.

Orla scoffed. “Back when Khamina first became Captain, Malash was the one she beat out. Malash never really got over that, even though she lost fair and square… but she decided to challenge Khamina again anyway. That was the first time wrestling was introduced… they were going at it for ages, neither giving in, even though you could tell they were both bursting… finally, Khamina managed to get Malash in a headlock, squeezed so hard she fainted...you can probably figure out what happened next.”

Melina swallowed. She could almost see in her mind’s eye, Malash’s body going limp as pee gushed from her quivering sphincter, splashing her legs and soaking the ground.
“...Wow…” Melina murmured.

Orla nodded. “Malash was humiliated. It was all anybody talked about for weeks… and to be honest, Khamina was kind of arrogant about it. Got to the point where a few of the orcs even thought maybe Malash wasn’t guard material, but Khamina vouched for her. Said it was a hard-won fight, and that Malash was still a capable warrior. Still, didn’t make Malash any less bitter, or Khamina any less of a blowhard.”

Melina frowned, looking at the ground. To suffer such an acute humiliation at the hands of another, and then be forced to serve under them...no wonder Malash was so unpleasant.
“So...they’ve hated each other since?”

At this, Orla chuckled. “The opposite, actually. Khamina says a bunch of shit to get a rise out of Malash, and Malash goes out of her way to be a thorn in the Captain’s side, but they both are just concealing the fact that they wanna fuck each other’s brains out.”

Melina’s eyes widened, her cheeks darkening even more. “I-they-huh?” She gulped.

Orla’s cheeks darkened as she continued to whet her knife. “When you get as good hearing as me, you can pick up on these things. Whenever they yell at each other, you know it’s only by Urza’s rule they aren’t tearing each other’s clothes off.”

Melina swallowed, an image of the two orcs locked in a passionate, sweaty embrace, growling as they clawed at each other's bodies rose unbidden in her mind. She flushed a bit, fidgeting a bit on the spot. “W-well, erm...okay, I guess if they don’t really mean to hurt each other…”

Orla shook her head. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway…” She smirked. “Now, down to business.” She murmured, coming from around the table. “Night’s coming fast...we’ve almost got enough lumencap for the job...one more jaunt should do it.”

Melina nodded. “And you’re sure she won’t taste it?”

Orla snorted. “Ever been around the Chief drinking mead? I don’t even think it touches her tongue.” she murmured, going back to sharpening the knife.

Melina nodded, but she still looked somewhat dubious. “Still if discretion is our friend, I don’t see why we need to take all this risk...we’ve got nearly a full harvest’s worth…”

Orla continued to sharpen away. “To make certain she controls the match, the Chief will most likely only drink from her personal stores of ale and mead… We don’t know which one she’ll use, so we’ll need enough to spread across all the barrels to make sure she’s fully saturated.”  She said matter-of-factly.

Melina nodded, exhaling gently through her nose. “Alright. Just a few hours to nightfall, and we’ll retrieve the last bunch.”

And so, like the days before, the two girls waited until the sun had long since vanished and the moon was ascending into the sky to make their move. They each pulled on roughhide boots to mitigate unwanted noise, grabbed a knife and slung their packs over their shoulders before pushing the door open and quietly hurrying out into the night.

The evening was cool and clear, with a few clouds scurrying across the sky. Orla and Melina quickly made their way over to the same spot in the wall, pushing the logs out and crawling through the opening. As usual, Orla needed a little more time; they had to make the hole a tight fit to avoid making it too conspicuous, resulting in a tight squeeze for the diminutive but still larger-than-human orc girl.

They waited for the perimeter guard to pass their position, and then raced on fleet-feet towards the cover of the woods, not stopping until they were certain the leafy canopy shielded them from the light of the full moon.

Orla led them down the familiar path, and within moments Melina could see the lumencap patch, it’s silvery blue glow greatly diminished with how much they’d been taking from it.

“Not a lot left…” Melina whispered as she knelt in the damp soil and drew her knife.

“Then we take what’s there.” Orla whispered back, drawing her own knife.

The two made short work of the remainder of the patch, slicing the mushrooms at the stem and tossing them into their packs. After roughly a half hour, the log was cleared and Melina stood, wiping a bit of sweat off her brow. “Okay, that’s it...let’s get-”
She stopped as she heard voices in the distance. Orla sat up, obviously having heard them too.

They were still somewhat far off, but Melina could recognize the throaty alto of Khamina, and the gruff bark of Malash.

It was the guard… back early.

Melina and Orla both turned to each other, fear expressed in both seeing and blind eyes. They both scrambled to their feet and after taking hands, ran as fast as the darkness would allow back to the compound, but just as they burst through the treeline, they could see torchlight ahead as the scout guard approached, Khamina and Malash bickering and Ghora and Ognild behind them looking quite annoyed.
The pair ducked back behind the trees as they passed by, Melina’s heart hammering so fast in her chest she thought it might burst.

Finally, the troupe passed through onto the gate, and Melina and Orla took off towards the breach in the encampment, wiggling back inside and practically sprinting into the hut. They slammed the door behind them, immediately doubling over as they both tried to catch their breath.

After a few minutes of panting, Melina managed to pull herself upright, looking at Orla. A moment later, Orla did the same. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing, great bellowing guffaws that filled the hut with mirth and the release of nervous energy.

“Ha ha ha Eoth’s bollocks, I thought we were done for…ha...” Melina wheezed, holding her side.

Orla had slumped down into her chair. “Tell...tell me about it…hehe... I couldn’t even see where they were…”

Melina finally managed to get her breath back, staggering over to the table and plopping down in the opposite chair. She checked her pack; luckily most the lumencap survived the trip. “Well, at least we got what we came for…”

Orla nodded, already getting to her feet and moving towards the cupboards to fetch the rest of their stores of lumencap. She opened the cabinet, which perfumed the whole hut with a strange, almost citrusy scent. Orla pulled down the sacks and pulled out a large wooden bowl, big enough to cover nearly half the table, before setting it down and dumping them all in.

“Right, now we just need to grind it all down into a powder.” She murmured, taking her mortar and beginning to mash at the mountain of mushrooms. Melina observed her work, impressed at how quickly the skilled orcish alchemist was able to reduce a mound of lumencap into sifty particles.

“Now…” the orcess murmured, taking a cup down from the shelf and scooping a bit of the lumencap powder into it. “...To test its potency.”

She grabbed a nearby gourd of water and poured it over the powder before taking up a spoon to stir it all in.

Melina blinked, frowning as she looked from the cup to Orla. “Wait, you’re not gonna...drink it, are you?”

Orla gave Melina a dry smile. “Have to make sure it works, don’t we? We can surmise how quickly it will affect the Chief by how quickly it affects me. Bottoms up…” And with that, the blind orc upended the cup into her mouth, drinking the entire contents in one fell swoop.

Melina watched on tenterhooks as her friend consumed the liquid. “...How do you feel?” She asked.

Orla frowned, looking at the cup. “Well, not too much different, but I suppose it’ll need some time to...ooh... “ She murmured, a hand moving to her abdomen. “I just...felt a pang down there, haha…” She chuckled. “That’s inter-ngh!” She grunted, wincing a bit as she bent forward at the hip a bit.

Melina was immediately on her feet, moving over to the orc. “Orla? Orla! Are you alright?” She whispered frantically.

“Nng...I’m fine…” Orla muttered. “Ng, I just...I...ohhh…” She breathed as her thighs began to rub together.

Melina saw this, her eyes shifting from the sculpted orcish legs to her friend. “Is it working?”

Orla chuckled again, rubbing her abdomen. “Yeah, I...I think it is...the urge just sort of hit me out of nowhere, didn’t expect it to *nn* to be that fast, erm…Here, help me get this powder into a few pouches…”

Melina did as she was asked, fetching the pouches from the same cupboard and beginning to fill each one with lumencap powder. As they worked, she couldn’t help but notice Orla begin to look more and more anxious, her thighs rubbing together more and more. Hardly ten minutes later, Orla was having to stop in between each pouch to exhale and grasp at herself. “Haha, this...is working faster than I thought...the Chief doesn’t...doesn’t *nng* s-stand a chance…” She muttered, grinding her arse down into her seat.

Another ten minutes past, and Orla had gone from mildly uncomfortable to downright desperate. Try as she might, Melina couldn’t ignore the way the woman’s hips wiggled, or the way she pressed at her crotch, or the cute little groans of desperation she let slip. She was all but rocking back and forth now, gritting her teeth so hard her tusks jutted into her upper lip.

Finally, all the lumencap was accounted for...around 8 pouches worth, more than enough for Urza’s stores, according to Orla.

“G-good, now let’s….oh dear…” the orcess whimpered. She shuddered, and Melina could hear a quick *hiss* as Orla’s sphincter failed her for a moment before she regained control.

Melina’s eyes widened again. “Are you...wetting yourself?” She whispered. Orla bit her lip, giving no answer...but another, longer *hiss* told Melina all she needed to know.

“E-excuse me a moment…” Orla huffed as she practically leapt out of her chair, racing towards the door...but it was too late. The sudden movement was too much for Orla’s alchemically-strained bladder, and within seconds, warm golden urine began gushing forth, saturating Orla’s trousers immediately and soaking the mat in front of the door with the force of a heavy summer rain. The orcish alchemist’s shoulders sagged as her bladder continued to forcibly void itself on the door and the surrounding areas.

Melina couldn’t tear her eyes away… not from the deluge cascading down the orc’s legs, nor the way the wet fabric clung to her shapely posterior, nor the guttural groans of relief coming from between her pouty jade lips.

After a few moments, the flow subsided, and Orla was left standing there in her puddle. Neither one of them said anything for a moment. Melina felt somewhat dizzy, and a bit numb as she watched the orc turn around.

“Well...I suppose that means it works…” She murmured, biting her lip as she peered up at Melina.
Melina nodded. “I...suppose it does...uh, I’ll get the limewort…”

Once Orla had gotten cleaned up and most of her urine was being absorbed by the liberal amounts of limewort the two had applied to the puddle, Melina exhaled. “So then...Now all I have to do is challenge her?”

Orla nodded. “You’ll need Khamina. She can get you the audience you need, while I go to the ale-cellar and…” She held up a pouch of lumencap powder, grinning mischievously.

Melina nodded. She would just have to hope and pray that Malash had been right, and Khamina was indeed being soft on her. The two of them helped Orla fasten her alchemic pouches to her person and cover up with a cloak so as to not be detected.

“Alright, I think we’re ready…” Orla murmured. “But, before we go…”
She swallowed, and Melina was surprised to see the orc’s cheeks darken. “There’s, er...something you should know about the Chief. She doesn’t talk about it a lot, but it may help you increase your bargaining power…”

Melina blinked, fastening her tunic. “Well? What is it?”

Orla bit her lip, her cheeks darkening even more before she shuffled forward, cupping a hand around Melina’s ear and whispering into it.

Melina narrowed her eyes in confusion...before widening them in surprise...and her own cheeks colored red as she realized what the woman was saying. She bit her own lip, feeling goosebumps form on her skin as a warmth blossomed in her core.

“She...really?” Melina whispered, and Orla nodded, still dark in the cheeks. “It...might help, if you’re willing to take advantage of it. Now…let’s go.”

Melina nodded, and they pushed open the door once more, heading into the compound proper. As fortune would have it, the rest of the scout guard was present, sitting around a fire, laughing and chatting idly. Khamina, normally loud and boisterous, was a bit more subdued tonight, do doubt due to the full tankard of ale currently straining the walls of her bladder. Malash looked a bit rigid too...though oddly, they were sitting next to each other… perhaps they had resolved their earlier spat?

Melina took a deep breath, walking up to them as Orla snuck around them towards the Chief’s Abode.

“Captain Khamina…” She announced. At once, the chatter stopped, and all eyes turned to Melina. The girl swallowed, doing her best to steel her nerves in the face of all the orc women looking at her.

She took a step forward, clearing her throat. “Captain Khamina, I humbly come before you with a request.”

The orcs continued to stare at her, and for a moment there was nothing but silence. Suddenly, Ognild and Ghora burst out laughing.
“The...the fuck kind of announcement is tha-ha-hat?” Ognild exclaimed, clutching her stomach.

Ghora had almost fallen off her seat. Oi, humie, you’re not in a fuckin’ church!”

Khamina snorted. “Alright, you two, settle down…” she muttered, though her own face was curled up in a smirk. “What kind of ‘request’, man-cub?”

Melina swallowed again. “I would like an audience with the Chief.”

Khamina raised an eyebrow. “The Chief? What for?”

Melina set her jaw. “I have a proposition for her.” She murmured.

Khamina frowned as all the other orcs look on in curiosity.

“And what, pray tell, be this ‘proposition’?” Khamina murmured, idly scratching at her neck.

Melina leveled her gaze at the orc woman. “First things first. Do I have an audience?”

The other orcs looked at one another as Khamina kept her gaze focused on the girl. Finally, it seemed her curiosity won out. “Fine.” She murmured, getting up. “Follow me...and the rest of yeh’s...try not to do anything stupid till I get back.”

Melina exhaled gently as she followed Khamina away from the flames, trying to ignore how the other orcs’ gazes followed her across the pitch and up the steps of the Chief’s Abode.

“Whatever this proposition is, man-cub, I hope it’s worthwhile...Chief don’t see nobody for nuthin’...” Khamina muttered, looking down at the girl.
Melina nodded. “I understand...and thank you.” She said, looking up at the orc captain. Khamina nodded, a bit of a smirk on her face as she strode into the curtains.

Melina waited on the steps, idly wondering if Orla had managed to get to the stores yet. She sincerely hoped so, or this would all be for naught. This was her one chance...she had to make it count.

The flaps opened again, and out stepped Khamina. “The Chief doesn’t like being bothered at this hour, but...she’s curious, so...She’ll see you.” She murmured, looking down at Melina, who nodded, striding forward as Khamina held open the curtain for her.

The room was just like it had been the first time Melina was here, though now that she wasn’t dangling by her arms and trying not to wet herself, she was able to appreciate how rustic and nicely-designed the place was...though her eyes were immediately drawn to the centerpiece.

Chief Urza sat in her throne in a reclined pose that was relaxed, but still brimming with power, like a crouching tiger. Oddly, her legs were still covered, despite the warmth of the room. Her intense, greengold eyes locked Melina in a trance, and as she raised a hand to beckon the girl forth, Melina felt as though her body were moving automatically until she was stood in front of the woman.

“I am told you have a proposition to make of me, man-cub…” The Chieftess murmured in that commanding, rich alto of hers. “I am intrigued as to what you believe you can offer me, that I do not possess…”

Melina took a deep breath. “I am aware that you are...different, your grace. I am aware of your…’possession’.”

Urza’s eyes glinted dangerously, a frown curling on her lips. “Leave us.” She barked at her guards, her eyes never leaving Melina’s.

The orc guards turned to one another, confused, but unwilling to disobey their Chief. And so, one by one they filed out of the throne room, leaving the Chief and Melina alone.

“Choose your next words wisely, man-cub…” Urza growled. “They may be the last you ever speak.”

Melina swallowed, but she forced herself to continue. “I...was wondering why you always kept your legs covered…” She murmured, taking a tiny step forward. “This throne room is so warm, surely extra quilts would be uncomfortable, but you’re not trying to keep warm, are you, your Grace?” She asked, tilting her head as she continued to move forward.
 

“No, you’re hiding something...a great, long, strong, beautiful something…” She cooed gently, moving forward
The Chief looked wary, but she did not speak.

Between her legs, the quilt jumped.
The lack of resistance stoking her confidence, Melina continued. “A throbbing...needy something…” She breathed, slowly reaching for the quilt. Urza’s hand immediately reached out to grab her wrist, but Melina remained calm. “Please, your Grace...allow a poor sheltered girl to slake her curiosity?”

Slowly, the Chief’s hand released her wrist, and Melina moved to pull the quilt down and off of the Chief’s lap, revealing a loincloth that just barely covered what looked to be nearly a foot-long penis, the same dusky green as its owner and riddled with veins. The smooth glans twinkled in the firelight, and already Melina could see a bit of moisture gathering at the tip. Despite herself, Melina felt her mouth water...never before had she seen such a perfect specimen, and the fact that it was on a beautiful, bosomy orc chief made it all the more enticing. She swallowed the excess saliva...best not let on how awed she was…

“Ah...yes…” She breathed, her hand coming to rest on the Chief’s thigh, the back brushing against the underside of the length and causing it to spring almost immediately to full hardness.

Melina clucked her tongue sympathetically. “You are the victim of such cruelty, your Grace...bound by your own laws to hide a part of yourself, and such a beautiful part...and with the men away, you are forbidden from even the torrid lovemaking that would help you forget the ache that plagues you here…” She murmured, reaching down to gently cup one of the orc chief’s weighty testicles...it was warm, heavy, and practically full to the brim with seed. The Chief took a shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering somewhat at the girl’s touch.

Melina couldn’t help but allow herself a small smirk as she moved the other hand to the shaft, cupping the tip to gather a bit of lube before beginning to stroke the Chief’s royal scepter. “And then to be surrounded by so many fertile, curvaceous subjects, and be denied the chance to enjoy them...to have them service you on your throne as you know they would...even as they indulge in one another, while you are left pent up and without release…”

Melina was losing herself in it, her motions coaxing more and more pre from the chief’s verdant member and allowing her hand to glide up and down the trembling pole with increasing ease. “But I’m different, am I not? I’m not an orc, I am not bound by your laws...and yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to exploit that loophole…”

The Chief’s breath was coming in shallow, almost girlish gasps, her eyes slack and unfocused. Melina could feel the conflict in the woman...she wanted to tell Melina to stop, to reassert control...but her body would not let her.

“So I come to you. I know what you conceal, and I know how much it pains you to do so.” The Chief was groaning now, biting her lip as her hips began to move in rhythm with Melina’s hand.

I have you now, gorgeous… Melina thought to herself as she began moving her hand faster and faster, feeling the flesh tremble and tighten beneath her. The Chief was close. “I want to give you what you crave, your Grace…” she murmured, leaning forward towards her ear.

“...Release.” she whispered.

The Chief bit down on her finger to keep from crying out as the first rope of fragrant, pearlescent cum burst from her quivering cock, splattering wetly on the ground beneath her. Melina bit her own lip, grinning as she increased her speed, intent on wringing as much pleasure from the orcish chieftain as she could. Urza groaned as her orgasm tore through her chiseled form, gout after gout of pent up seed roping from her engorged member, frosting the ground white and coating everything in front of the empress a pale, creamy white. Melina felt her small clothes moisten as the Chief continued to pump her broad hips into the girl’s hand, continuing to shoot her sperm high into the air, only for it to splat on the ground like white rain until the entirety of the stoop was painted white. After a few more moments, the spurts became less violent, and now began to just dribble down her magnificent pole. The Chief slumped against her chair, breathing heavily, painted in the afterglow of her euphoric climax.

Melina smirked gently. “And so… I am offering myself, your grace...Not only to assist around the camp, but to relieve you so that you never again must go without the release you deserve…”

The Chief’s eyes blinked a couple times to get back into frame before sliding over to look at Melina. “N...Name your wager, farlander…”

Melina continued to idly stroke the Chief’s member. “An Endurance match. You against me. NO wrestling, just a battle of wills. If you win, I will become your love servant, forever. If I win... your guard has to escort me back to the edge of the forest so that I may return.”

The Chief glowered, seemingly thinking to herself. “...No one has bested me in an endurance match, not even Khamina. You willingly stake lifelong servitude on so impossible a task?”

Melina huffed gently. “The way I see it, this is my chance to prove to you that I can be strong, too...without the added meddling of your underlings. Do we have any accord?” She murmured, running her thumb along the sensitive underside of the futa chief’s cock, causing her to shudder.

“V-very well, man-cub.” The chief murmured, sitting up fully and grabbing Melina’s chin with a grin. “You have yourself a wager.”

TO BE CONTINUED….

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  • 1 month later...

CHAPTER 5: Evening The Odds

(Bit of a shorter chapter, but I want the final one to be completely dedicated to the match between Urza and Melina XD)


News of Melina’s challenge spread quickly through the camp. By morning, every orc in the compound was aware of the impending contest between the Chief and the human captive, and there was no shortage of whispers or curious stares that followed Melina and Orla as they headed to the mess hall to do their routine morning clean-up of the perimeter guard’s breakfast.
Truth be told, it was quite unnerving for the young girl, having the gaze of every muscle-bound warrior in the compound on her...but underneath it, she felt a strain of pride. She’d gotten their attention, and though in most looks she saw incredulity, pity or amusement, in a few she saw curiosity, and even grudging respect for the sheer audacity of her challenge.

“I suppose the Chief accepted your challenge?” Orla muttered to her as she adjusted her cleaning pack on her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t see the gazes trailing after them, Orla’s extremely keen hearing picked up on the hushed conversations whenever they went by.

Melina took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, she did. We start at dawn, each of us emptying ourselves completely, and then...” She let the sentence trail off, feeling butterflies in her stomach. Despite Orla’s display in reaction to the lumencap, and her assurance that all of the Chief’s personal mead barrels had been thoroughly spiked with it (courtesy of an easily-picked lock and a less-than-vigilant guard-orc) Melina couldn’t help but be nervous. She had been awed just by how much regular orcs had been able to hold, and Chief Urza was supposed to be the strongest among them...She’d never even seen the over-endowed orc relieve herself before. She took another deep breath, doing her best to keep her head high and her gait steady so as not to look intimidated by the eyes following her to the mess hall.

“Honestly I didn’t think she’d go for it at first, but, after some...persuasion…” She murmured.

At this, Orla raised an eyebrow. “Persuasion? How do you mean?”

At this, Melina reddened, a small smirk curling on her lips. “I, er...merely took your advice…”

The orcess blinked her sightless eyes, confused...then they widened as realization dawned on her. Now it was Orla’s turn to blush, swallowing down a lump in her throat as she moved even closer to Melina. “O-Oh, you- you don’t mean you-?” She whispered

Melina’s grin widened. “Yeah…” She giggled back, adjusting her own pack.

The two young alchemists walked in somewhat of an awkward silence for a few moments longer before Orla turned her head slightly towards Melina.

“....What did it look like?” She murmured under her breath, so quiet Melina could hardly even make out what she was saying.

The girl frowned, turning to her friend in confusion. “Huh?”

Orla swallowed again, clearing her throat as she kept her empty gaze focused before her. “W-what did it look like? The Chief’s...y-you know…” She stammered, fingers idly clutching at her pack strap. “I’ve...well, only a few of the Kh’raven have seen it, and I obviously haven’t…” She breathed, turning her head towards Melina. “Was it...did it look nice?”

Melina felt her blush returning as she realized what Orla was asking. She cast a furtive glance around; most of the orcs had gone back to their respective morning tasks, and they weren’t close enough to overhear, anyway.

She turned back to Orla, gently biting her lip. “It was...big…” she breathed. “Green… hard, but pliable...strong but smooth…warm to the touch…I didn’t think I’d feel this way seeing one, but...” Her eyes glazed over somewhat as she recounted the experience...the Chief’s strong, sculpted form flexing in orgasmic obedience to the comparatively tiny pale hand running its way up and down her sensitive shaft, her powerful green hands gripping the side of her throne as she tried not to let on how much she enjoyed Melina’s surprisingly skillful ministrations…

It seemed Melina wasn’t the only one being affected by the bawdy account. Orla’s face got darker and darker the more Melina spoke, until her breath was coming in somewhat shallow gasps and her thighs began to rub against one another as they walked. “W-wow…” she croaked. “She must’ve been even more pent up than the rest of us...and she can’t even cheat the way the others do…”

Melina nodded, exhaling gently. Despite the lust that had seared in her chest when she was tending to the Chief’s member, she’d also felt a surge of pity… to have such a magnificent tool and be unable to use it, especially with all the basically half-nude shapely orc women traipsing around...it must have been driving her crazy…

Melina’s risque ruminations continued as they entered the mess hall, where the perimeter guard was sitting around chatting like normal… though both Khamina and Malash appeared to be missing. As soon as Melina came around the corner, the entire hall went quiet as they all turned to look at her.

Melina swallowed, the sudden gazes of a dozen orc guards on her making her feel weak in the knees, though she did her best not to acknowledge them as she and Orla came farther in.

Their footsteps felt loud in Melina’s ears, their echo in the silence weighing on her as she set her pack down and reached in to pull her saphroot tincture and cleaning rags out, trying to keep her hands steady as she did so. “I’m gonna go fetch the water…” She murmured to Orla, grabbing the pail from near the entrance and starting towards the back of the hall.

As she passed by, the orcs began to murmur among themselves like all the others.

“She really challenged the Chief? Didn’t she piss herself within ten minutes of comin’ here?”

“She’s gotta know Chief Urza’s gonna crush her…”

“10 gold pieces says she squirts before the Chief even starts feeling it…”

“I say we make her chug the rest of this barrel, see how much she can *really* hold…”

Melina ignored them, setting her jaw and pushing open the back door of the mess hall. The murmurs followed her out as made her way to the well to fetch water for cleaning the dishes, but Melina did her best to block it out as she approached the well. As she tied the pail off and began lowering it into the well, a nasty thought occurred to her. Many of the orcs clearly thought little of her challenge… what if they decided to ambush her for their Chief, tie her up and beat her down before the contest even began? What if, when Urza realized she was more desperate than she should’ve been, she figured something was amiss? What if Melina won and Urza went back on her promise?

Melina’s heart began to hammer in her chest as she considered these unsavory possibilities...her hands shook as she pulled the bucket up, water sloshing out the sides. The sound, ironically enough, reminded her of her faint urge to urinate...something she’d need to take care of as soon her chores were done, while she still could.

She calmed herself by reminding herself that the Kh’raven seemed an honorable folk, if nothing else… Orla had said the Chief wasn’t a bad sort, and it wasn’t like living here the past two weeks had been completely terrible… and suddenly, she began to feel a bit guilty about the way she’d rigged the match…

No. Melina thought angrily to herself. No, you are doing what you need to win. The Chief played dirty when you got here, so...so this just makes it fair. Yes, you’re just making things even...this is how you’re gonna get home.

With her conscience assuaged for the time being, Melina pulled the bucket the rest of the way up and promptly returned to the mess hall, determination and resoluteness driving her steps forward with renewed vigor.
 

The mess hall was surprisingly empty when Melina re-entered it….it seemed as though most of the orcs had gone off to elsewhere, and the ones who hadn’t were back to drinking and talking, enjoying the last few moments of their morning break and paying Melina little mind as she hurried back to Orla. The orcish alchemist had already started clearing away some of the flagons and plates from the orcs’ breakfast, pre-staining them with the tincture to dissolve any residual food particles. She raised her head as she heard Melina’s footsteps approach, turning gently towards the sound. Melina frowned as she knelt down next to Orla with the bucket. “Where’s everyone going? Muster isn’t for another half hour…”

Orla shrugged. “Getting ready to watch Malash’s Endurance Match against the Captain, probably…” She murmured, dipping her rag in the bucket. 

 

Melina blinked. She’d totally forgotten that was today...that explained both Khamina and Malash’s absences from the normal breakfast rush. “Can we see it?” She murmured. She hadn’t been too invested in the matches up until now, given that to her it was just a contest between two random orcs settling some personal squabble...but now Melina had reason to actually pay attention. She hadn’t had many joys during her captivity, but she imagined watching Khamina put Malash’s arse in the dirt would be quite a sight.

Orla shrugged. “Depends on how quickly we finish these dishes, I suppose….” She murmured, sounding rather morose, though Melina picked up on it, she didn’t comment.

A while passed as the two slowly made their way through the mountain of dishes they needed to clean...the other orcs had all gone by the time they’d nearly finished up.

Once they were alone, Orla turned to Melina. “They’d been talking about you…” she murmured. “About the match…”

Melina set her jaw, dropping her gaze back to their work. “I know… can’t be helped… And it’s a crazy thing for me to do, even-” She paused, looking around to make sure they weren’t being listened to before leaning forward. “-even with the lumencap we’re slipping her. Orla, do you think it’ll be enough?” She whispered.

Orla smiled drily. “Made me piss myself in short order, didn’t it?”

Melina pursed her lips. “That’s- Orla, come on, you know what I mean. The Chief is the strongest there is, right? And she’s got- w-well, she’s obviously different from the other orcs, what if she can resist its effects?”

Orla frowned. “She’s still an orc, Melina, no matter how many differences her body has… the lumencap will work. In two days time she’ll be doing her damndest not to gush all over the ground, I promise.”
Melina blushed a bit at the decidedly crude response, and she cleared her throat. “Right, erm...yeah… and Orla…” She murmured, her eyes raising to the young orc’s face. “Thank you… I know it can’t have been easy, doing all this…helping me, betraying your Chief...”

Orla pursed her lips, suddenly looking decidedly uncomfortable. She sat up with a gentle sigh, rolling her shoulders. “...I have no desire to see any harm come to her… I may be somewhat of an oddball here but Kh’raven blood still flows through my veins. My heart still beats for my Chief, and my tribe...This is my home. But…” She stopped wiping the dish in her hand for a moment. “I want to help you get back to your home…”

She turned her empty gaze on Melina. “...To Priscilla…”

Melina merely continued to peer at Orla for a moment before leaning over and wrapping her arms round the Orc’s shoulders. Orla tensed, seeming surprised, but within seconds she was reciprocating the embrace. The two stayed like that for a moment, content to bask in each other’s warmth and gentleness...two things oft missing from the rough dispositions of the Kh’raven tribals.

Suddenly, they heard the challenge horn being sounded, and began to hear voices congregating outside the mess hall.

Orla turned to Melina. “Sounds like the Match is starting…” She murmured, quickly scrubbing the last dish and setting it back in the nesting alcove. Melina got to her feet as well, and the pair of them hurried outside where the crowd was gathering around the Match ring.

Melina managed to shove her way to the front this time, her eyes scanning the trodden dirt pitch for the competitors. Within moments, a roar went up from the spectators as the contestants emerged onto the field.

Khamina and Malash both wore stony expressions as they approached each other… Melina noted with some redness that they both had changed out of their usual guard armor, now clad only in the dress worn by those participating in a Match; scant fur bras that barely contain their mountainous bosoms and loincloths that hung between powerful thighs in an almost ironic display of decency. The sheer clothing allowed all present to see the hard muscles rippling underneath the two opponents’ verdant skin, tensed with barely contained ferocity...it was like watching two bears circle each other over a salmon. Khamina had tied her braid back in a bun to prevent it being used as a handhold for her opponent, while Malash’s clean shaven head merely glinted in the morning sun. Melina would be lying to herself if she said her pulse didn’t quicken a bit at the sight...they looked dangerous, but also beautiful...like a raging fire...

But the most prominent feature was one they shared...a great, bulbous, protruding abdomen, a sign of the boiling lake of piss contained just behind each hardened Amazonian sphincter. Oddly enough, neither of them even seemed to notice the loads that would’ve ruptured the bladders of a dozen women thrice over, their only concern seeming to be keeping the other in their sights.

Melina felt the tension in the air, as did everyone… The petty grievance given as the impetus for this fight masked the years of friction between the two, and now all that frustration was coming to a head...in one way or another.

The ref raised an arm, and the two combatants sunk into wrestling stances, still glaring at one another.

For a moment, there was silence. The crowd wanted with bated breath, the energy humming in the air like the moments before a thunderstorm.

The arm had barely swung down when the two lunged for one another, immediately grappling one another’s shoulders. They both grit their teeth as they staggered around the pitch, gripping each other so hard Melina could swear she saw veins bulging out of their necks.

Suddenly, Khamina dropped to a lunge stance, forcing Malash to pitch forward and allowing Khamina to use that momentum to toss her opponent to the ground. Malash hit the dirt and rolled right back to her feet, a fierce expression on her face. With a bellow, she charged Khamina, tackling her Captain into the dirt. The crowd was going wild, shouting out encouragement to their respective champions.

“Yeah, Malash, take that bitchcaptain down a peg!”

“Come on, Captain, show that bucktusk beta who’s boss!”

Melina winced as Malash slammed Khamina’s shoulders into the dirt and straddled her, breathing heavily. The Captain struggled, but she couldn’t find an angle.

A frenzied grin began to appear on Malash’s face. “Finally…” She hissed, moving her hips back and moving a hand down to Khamina’s abdomen. She drove her palm into the Captain’s grotesquely protruding bladder, causing Khamina to cry out in a strangled groan. Malash began pumping her arm up and down, rolling Khamina’s boulder of a bladder around in her abdomen with little regard for the pain it might cause her.
Amazingly though, throughout it all, Khamina did not pee, despite the brutal attack on her overswollen pee-pouch. Malash must’ve been just as surprised, because the half-second of hesitation on the lighter orc’s part gave Khamina the opening she needed to throw her opponent off of her. Malash hit the ground, and Khamina staggered upright, knock kneed and clutching her bladder with a pained expression.

Melina’s eyes flitted between the two combatants, thanking her lucky stars she would not have to wrestle in her own match...she wasn’t sure if she’d even survive, let alone avoid peeing herself. She winced again as Khamina swept Malash’s leg while simultaneously bringing her arm around her neck and forcing her into a kneel. It was such a violent sport, and no one in the crowd seemed to-

Melina swallowed as her eyes caught the gaze Chief Urza, staring at her from the other side of the pitch.

The Chief was dressed in her normal leathers and pelts, her bearskin cape hanging off of her shoulders. Her mouth curled up in a toothy grin, lusty and primal, as she kept her gaze trained on Melina, and Melina could swear she saw the crotch of the Chief’s tunic twitch.

Melina swallowed, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from Urza and focus back on the match, though she could feel herself warming under the Chief’s domineering gaze.

Khamina had gotten Malash into a headlock again… the same headlock, Melina surmised, that had won the Captain the match last time. Malash’s eyes were already fluttering as she clawed at the arm round her throat, her loincloth already becoming stained with the spurts that signified she would soon lose control of her bladder, and thus, the match. Khamina grit her teeth, squeezing tighter as Malash’s thrashing became weaker and weaker, struggling and squirming in Khamina’s grasp…

Then suddenly, the Captain let go. In both senses of the word.

As Khamina released Malash’s throat, she grimaced, and a second later golden piss was pouring from between her thighs in a torrent the likes of which Melina had never seen… it was as though someone had upended a bathtub, the way the amber sheets of hot urine were splashing noisily into the ground.

The entire pitch went silent as Khamina continued voiding her bladder on the pitch, their eyes wide in surprise...though no one looked more shocked than Malash, who had paused in her massaging of her neck to stare open-mouthed at the deluge staining her superior’s thighs. After almost 5 minutes, Khamina’s flow abated, the last few droplets snaking lazily down her thighs as she raised her head towards Malash.

Melina blinked...Khamina had lost? But Khamina never lost…especially to the likes of Malash…

She and the rest of the tribe watched as the Chief stepped forward. “Well fought, the both of you…” She murmured, her eyes lingering on Khamina. “But Malash….” She turned to the still tensed and shivering  orc who, now that she no longer had adrenaline on her side, seemed to be having a difficult time containing the rest of her own pee.

“...You have emerged the victor. You may now take your-”

Malash didn’t even wait for the orcish Chief to finish her sentence as she pulled aside her own loincloth, jetting forth a stream that was not quite as strong as Khamina’s but nonetheless impressive, indicative of the orc being mere seconds away from such a gush being involuntary. As she continued to pee, the Chief strode over and grabbed her arm, holding it high and bringing forth cheers from some of the crowd and looks of surprise or dismay from the rest. 


Ghora and Ognild led the pack of orcs who had sidled up to Malash.

“Blimey, Malash…” Ghora breathed, clapping her still-peeing fellow guard on the back. “You fuckin’ pulled it out...you’re the first of us to beat the Cap’n ever…” She breathed.

Ognild was next, grinning widely. “Guess we can’t make fun of yeh for faintin’ like a chambermaid anymore…” She joked, looking down at the golden cascade from between Malash’s thighs. “Gruumsh’s bollocks, that must feel incredible…”

Malash, for all intents and purposes, had lost her normal off-putting scowl...instead, she still looked quite taken aback, as if she, like her compatriots, had expected herself to lose.

She shot a glance towards Khamina, who was now conversing with the Chief, pee still dripping down her legs.

Their conversation seemed to conclude, as Khamina sighed gently and the Chief strode over to Malash. “Congratulations, Malash…” She murmured, clapping Malash’s shoulder. “You’ve done well. I’m certain I don’t need to impress upon you the significance of your victory…?”

Malash nodded. “I...Yes, I’m aware, Chief…”

Urza nodded. “And for your impressive display, and on the recommendation of Khamina, you’ve been granted a commendation. Live long and serve well...Captain.”

Malash looked up, eyes wide. “...Chief?” She murmured. “But I-I...Khamina-”

“-Has made the decision divide her duties with you, given the need to bolster our forces in the wake of restlessness at the far ends of the forest. She will continue to be responsible for the training and assembling of the guard and you will help lead the veterans when she is doing so. As of this moment, you are equal with her, and answer only to me.”

Ghora and Ognild’s eyes flitted from the Chief to Malash, who still looked stunned.

The Chief chuckled. “Now...I believe you’ve some cleaning up to do, yes?” She murmured, her eyes now flitting to Melina and Orla. “Man cub…” The Chief barked.

Melina swallowed, shuffling forward as she was summoned. She’d been prepared for (and somewhat anticipating) helping Khamina clean...but to be alone with Malash, unable to defend herself...the thought made her sick with fear.

The Chief looked down at the girl, a leering grin on her face. “Make certain the Captain is seen to, young one.” She commanded before turning and striding off.

Malash and Melina both watched her go for a moment before turning and looking at each other. Melina braced herself to be grabbed or yanked by her hair, but Malash only snorted. “Hmph...let’s go.” She growled. Melina followed immediately, not intent on doing anything to upset the belligerent orc… even as Orla was left standing, a worried expression in her sightless eyes.

The new Captain was silent all the way to the washing stalls. Even as she disrobed, she said nary a word, her gaze seeming far away.

Melina fetched the water and the flint for the fire, returning to the stall to find Malash standing there, nude and arms crossed as she stared at the wall.

Melina quickly knelt, striking the flint together to get the tinder burning, not intent on being here any longer than she absolutely had to.
“...She threw the match.” Malash muttered.

Melina blinked, looking up at the orc, who was still staring at the wall. Was she talking to Melina, or to herself? Should she answer? Should she not? Melina wrestled with her indecision for a moment before deciding to throw caution to the wind. “...Pardon?”

Malash huffed. “She should’ve won that fight.”

Melina swallowed, putting the flint away as the tinder finally caught fire. She put the pail over it and sighed. “If she wanted to win...I’m sure she would’ve...”

Malash’s dubious expression darkened even more as she shook her head. “No...She had me. She had me and she was seconds from winnin’, but she let me go.” She turned to Melina, glowering down at her. “Why?”

Melina frowned, looking up. “What makes you think I know?”

Malash snorted. “Cause she’s fucking easy on you, that’s what. Been gettin’ real soft ever since you stepped foot in the Kh’raven compound. What did she tell you? What’s she plannin’?”

Melina pursed her lips again as she went back to tending the flame. “It isn’t like we’re friends, she just hasn’t looked like she actively wants to kill me, not like you…” She muttered, feeling the words tumble out before she could stop herself.

If Malash was offended, though she didn’t show it. Melina waited a few more minutes for the water to heat before pulling the pail off. She stood up and stepped into the stall, only for Malash to grab the bucket and yank it away from her with a rough tug. “I can wash myself…” She muttered.

Melina pursed her lips… the Malash she knew would’ve paid her weight in gold to degrade the human captive by making her wash her, but now...it seemed like there was different fire in her eyes, one that burned for another reason.
Still, Melina didn’t consider it her lot to try and figure out why Malash was acting so strangely...she merely turned and strode away from the stalls as quickly as her feet would carry her, not stopping till she had reached Orla’s hut.

~~~~

As the afternoon wore on and evening approached, Melina felt herself get more and more nervous. The drinking for the contest would start in the morning, though as she thought about it, Melina had no idea how it was supposed to work. Were they to simply start drinking and then wait all day and all night till the start of the contest? Where was it to take place? And if she won...how soon would she be allowed to pee, and then to leave?

Questions like these rattled around the troubled young alchemist’s head, until she’d nearly made herself dizzy.

“...Melina?” Orla murmured, looking up from sewing a leather jerkin. “Are you alright? You haven’t said much since the Match…”

Melina looked up at Orla, whose sightless gaze was fixated right in front of her. She shook her head, stretching. “Oh, uh...it’s nothing, just...Malash was acting strange, after the match. She didn’t make me wash her, and…. She...told me that Captain Khamina threw the match.”

Orla frowned. “So Captain Khamina really did lose? Wow...If I was Malash, I’d be surprised, too…”

Melina looked back up at the orc. “Why? Khamina was bound to lose sometime…”

Orla huffed. “Not to Malash. Not to anyone but the Chief. Khamina is the best by a wide margin, it’s why she was made the Captain even when the men were still around...and everyone’s saying she had Malash dead to rights…”

Melina frowned. “Don’t tell me you think she threw the match? Why would she do that, all you Kh’raven care about is being the strongest, being the best, don’t you?” She snapped, a bit more harshly than she intended.

Noting the hurt expression Orla now wore, Melina was suddenly flooded with guilt. “Orla...I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Orla held up a hand, shaking her head. “You don’t have to apologize...not to me, not for that. We- I have done my best to make you feel welcome here, but, it isn’t like everyone else has...I’d be angry, too…”

Melina pursed her lips, looking back down at the ground. “Well...maybe “hate” is a strong word...things could be worse, I suppose…” She trailed off flatly.

Orla frowned, finally setting her sewing needles down. “...There is something else bothering you…”

Melina sat in silence for a moment, hands on her knees. “Orla, my entire life hinges on tomorrow...whether or not I get to see my friends and family again...I just…”
She swallowed. “I’m scared...scared that the lumencap won’t be enough…”

Orla pursed her lips, setting down her jerkin and folding her hands in her lap. “Melina...I told you this morning, the plan will work… I promise you, you will get back home.” She murmured. Melina looked up, seeing Orla’s reassuring smile...and she actually felt a little better. “Ah...thank you, I-” Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Melina and Orla both turned towards the sound, and then each other. Swallowing, Melina got to her feet, pulling the door open to reveal one of the perimeter guard.

“There is a feast being held in honor of Captain Malash’s ascendency in rank...you and Orla are teh make sure everyone is served and that things get cleaned up. Come with me.”

Melina and Orla looked at one another… never before had they been invited to dine with the rest of the camp before. Melina would much rather have stayed in the hut, but she could tell by the gruff expression on the orc guard’s face that they didn’t have much of a choice.
A few moments, later, the pair were following the guard back through the camp. Night had fallen, the full moon illuminating the entirety of the compound and casting long shadows over the ground as it hit the wooden parapets. The camp was all but deserted...everyone must’ve been at this banquet. Ahead, Melina could already hear the hooting and hollering of the scout guard and the Chief’s entourage carrying away in the mess hall.

The sound only got louder the closer they got, until finally they reached the slatted wooden doors. The guard pushed it open and immediately Melina was assailed by the heady aromas of roast boar, heather ale and the musk of several orc bodies packed into the same room.

All around, verdant amazons carried on like heathens, tearing into sides of ham or upending flagons of ale into their mouths. There was arm wrestling, joke-telling, all manner of laughter and riot… A heavy *thunk* from across the way alerted Melina to the knowledge that a few of the orcs were having hatchet throwing contests against the far wall...and to her dismay, each participant had a flagon of ale in her hand.

Orla’s empty eyes widened as they made their way further inside… A small smile came to her lips. “They...sound like they’re enjoying themselves…” She murmured. Melina shot a glance at her friend, debating on whether or not to tell her about the potentially dangerous hatchet throwing game going on.

As they reached the center of the room, Melina glanced up and saw the Chief reclining on a chair elevated on a tiered dais near the head of the table, smirking as she observed the raucous carrying-ons of her tribe. Next to her was Khamina, who looked far more reserved than Melina had ever seen her… a flagon in one hand, the other on her knee, her chin resting upon her, her gaze far away.

On the Chief’s other side, looking decidedly perplexed by all the new attention, was Malash. She’d been given her own gold ring to put around her tusk, signifying her status as a Captain in the tribe. A few of the orcs were coming up to her, clinking their flagons with hers or slapping her shoulder, or otherwise trying to buddy up with their new superior, but most seemed happy to have a night off to eat, drink and make arses of themselves with their comrades, occasion be damned.

Malash, for all the attention, didn’t look nearly as pleased as Melina would’ve thought someone who’d just bested her rival and earned a new title in the same day would’ve looked. In fact, the newly ascended captain’s focus appeared to be mainly on Khamina, across the aisle from her…

The Chief sat up, rolling her shoulders and grabbing the bronze-tipped spear next to her, raising it and bringing it down hard on the table. The rest of the orcs stopped their celebration immediately, turning toward their leader.

Urza looked over the now attentive orcs, sitting up and swinging her powerful legs over her seat before getting to her feet. Melina noticed, with some surprise, that the orc Chief had forgone her normal lower-half coverings, instead clad in something of a loincloth-tunic hybrid beneath her roughhide jerkin and bearskin cape.

“We assemble this evening to celebrate the taking of a mantle.” She called as she began descending the steps of the dais.
“Our comrade Malash showed strength, fortitude and will unseen by any other besides Captain Khamina...and for that alone, she is to be commended. But not only that… she proved that to be counted out is tinder for pressing on, not for giving in. She persevered despite the adversity, embodied the warrior spirit we pride ourselves upon...and the Kh’raven recognize her victory.”

Suddenly, the Chief’s eyes flitted to Melina and Orla, still near the entrance. Her toothy grin returned. “And speaking of insurmountable odds…”

Melina felt the color drain from her face as the entirety of the mess hall turned to look at her. She felt nearly sick with fear as the Chief approached, looming larger than Melina had imagined. She knew the Chief was tall, but having only ever encountered her sitting down or in a crowd, she hadn’t been able to appreciate just how imposing the orc chieftain was.

The 7-and-a-half foot jade behemoth stopped just shy of the pale young alchemist, grinning down at her with an expression that surely would strike fear into even the most hardened knights. Melina swallowed, feeling her legs wobble beneath her as she did her best not to faint on the spot.

“Bravery and foolishness are easily mistaken, especially among your kind, man-cub…” She murmured, causing a rumble of laughter from the gathered orcs. “Or perhaps...Hubris? After all, your ilk have purged much of the forest of it’s natural beauty in order to build your towns and chapels and castles… only the truly arrogant believe themselves masters of all they see. I was surprised to receive your challenge, given you seem to be more intelligent than most anyone one else from Man’s Country… but perhaps part of you believes you truly do stand a chance?”

Melina tried to swallow, but her mouth was so dry she did little else than merely scrape the parts of her throat together.

The Chief’s grin widened. “I suppose that is my fault… You’ve seen more of me than most, and yet I haven’t truly shown you what I am capable of… perhaps a demonstration?”

The Chief stepped back, holding out her spear. Immediately, one of her guards rushed forward to take it. The Chief’s eyes never left the young alchemist as she began undoing the cinch around her tunic, loosening the material some before reaching behind her loincloth, fiddling with what seemed to be even more knots…

The orc chief let out a gentle sigh as bits of thick twine fell from between her legs, and her large, throbbing green cock swung freely between her legs...Melina realized with a jolt that it had actually been tied to her right thigh, like one might tie a prized hog to the back of a horse.

The Chief grasped her member, pulling it up and out into full view of the assembly. A wave of musk hit Melina in the face that made her already weak knees shake like jelly...and she wasn’t the only one. The nearest orcs to the chief inhaled sharply, and out of the corner of her eye Melina could see their gazes glued hungrily to their Chief’s rod, nipples tenting their tunics as their mouths began to water. Melina couldn’t blame them...she found her own eyes inexplicably drawn to it...just as magnificent as the first time she saw it. Even flaccid, it looked as thick around as her forearm, the smooth dark green glans glinting gently in the firelight...For a fleeting moment, Melina thought about whether or not it would be so bad to spend the rest of her life worshipping that magnificent tool...rubbing it, licking it, kissing it… taking it in her-
She quickly shook her head to rid herself of the intrusive thoughts, her cheeks reddening quite deeply.

The Chief smirked, aiming her thick one-eyed serpent at the ground before Melina. The blonde’s eyes widened in realization of what the Chief was about to do a second before the first steaming gout of fragrant piss jetted forth from the powerful member, splattering onto the ground with a sound like heavy rain on stone. Melina instinctively tread backwards to avoid splashback, but she still felt a few droplets hit her leg.

Two, three, four, five minutes passed as the Chief was still going as strong as when she first started. She grinned as she continued to drain herself onto the dirt before her, with a stream as thick and steady as the fountains in the town square of Melina’s home. The evidence of her gargantuan capacity spread all across the ground, back towards the table where the orcs were lifting their feet to avoid getting their galoshes wet, and and even over to the mess hall entrance where Orla was standing. Melina felt her heart drop to her stomach… she’d never seen so much pee before, and the Chief didn’t even look fazed for having held what looked to be a couple barrels’ worth inside her cavernous bladder. Not to mention, the sound of the orc relieving herself reminded Melina about her own bladder, steadily filling throughout the day and deciding to make its presence known in a not-quite-subtle manner. Her legs involuntarily squeezed together as the Chief continued to release a load that would’ve filled her own bladder 9 times over, without so much as a sigh.

Finally, after nearly 8 minutes, Chief Urza’s stream finally began to slow, though it was still another 30 seconds or so before it abated completely. Nearly the entire northwest quadrant was now soaked with the Chief’s steaming pee; Orla had winced as it began to soak into her shoes.

Letting out a snort, the Chief tucked herself back away, grinning at the expression on Melina’s face. “Ah, yes...now you truly see what you are up against, girl…” She chuckled, crossing her arms. “Which is why I am giving you a sporting chance.”

Melina tore her eyes away from the towering orc’s crotch, forcing herself to look up at the Chief. “...What? I-”

Urza’s grinning lips curled back over her teeth again. “Customarily, we would both empty ourselves at dawn and then withhold from relief for the day, beginning the contest the next morning… But seeing as you are at such a disadvantage, I am going to begin my abstinence now. By the time you empty yourself to start the contest, I will have already gone an entire night without relieving myself, and…”
She clapped her hands, and suddenly a group of orcs entered from behind her makeshift throne, carrying in more barrels of mead.
“...having been properly hydrated with my own, vast personal stores.”

Melina swallowed again. A headstart...the Chief clearly didn’t expect it to make a difference, this was a ploy to make her victory all the more impressive. She obviously didn’t know what had happened to her mead, and now she was going to subject herself to roughly 12 additional hours of holding in the diuretic laced brew… all in the name of proving herself truly superior.

Melina said nothing as the Chief held out her hand for her spear. “Let it not be said that Chief Urza is not fair.” She chuckled, turning and heading back towards her throne. Melina was rooted to the spot, able to only stare as the Chieftain sat back down on her throne, gesturing for a flagon and one of her barrels.
“Good luck on the morrow, man-cub…” She smirked. And with that, the orcs turned back to the table, the din slowly resurging as they began eating and drinking once more.

After a short while , Orla came up next to her, her blind gaze staring before her. “Did...I just hear what I thought I heard…?”

Melina took a deep breath. “Yeah...the Chief just took her last pee till the end of the contest…”

Orla nodded, slightly open mouth. “And she...doesn’t know that her mead is-”

“-Yeah.” Melina said, feeling her entire body shiver as she watched the Chief knock back her first few flagons of mead from her special barrels. Somehow, the knowledge that the Chief was not only being imbued with gallons of spiked mead guaranteed to fill an orc’s bladder fuller than it had ever been, but was also doing so 12 hours before she needed to…

Melina inhaled sharply, feeling her nipples stiffen underneath her smallshirt. “I-let’s just get on with cleaning…”

The celebration continued late into the night, with both Malash and Khamina slowly becoming more and more like they normally were the more inebriated they got. Melina and Orla had gotten fresh water from the well to pour over the expansive stain the Chief had left on the dirt, and had since been clearing away excess dishes and flagons from the table.

As the night wore on, though, Melina began to notice a problem. A few of the orcs near the head of the table had slowed their drinking, and weren’t participating as heavily in the roughhousing their compatriots were. Instead, they seemed to quiet down a bit, going somewhat still as they shifted around in their seats. A few more continued on just as rambunctious as before, but they kept their legs close together in almost awkward stances more often than not.

It was innocuous enough so that Melina didn’t really pay it any mind, focused as she was on making sure the Chief was keeping a good flow going. She needn’t have worried...the Chief’s cup never remained empty. In fact, it looked as though she was deliberately drinking more than usual as though to double down on her offer to make the contest more fair.

Melina smirked inwardly...the Chief was evening the odds, alright…

Finally, the Chief sent the party off to their respective abodes. Orc after orc staggered out of the mess hall, plastered beyond belief...and again, a few of them showed signs of strain...a slight wince here, a small twitch there… a few even shuffled from foot to foot, though it looked to Melina a consequence of their drunken state. She stayed behind with Orla to finish cleaning the dishes, and by the time they did, it was near midnight by Melina’s estimate. The pair of them left the mess hall, dragging their feet in exhaustion. Melina could not wait to get back to the hut and sleep… she had quite a long day before her tomorrow, and she’d need all her strength.

Finally, they reached Orla’s home, each groaning as they entered the squat hut. Melina pulled the door closed behind them, sighing gently.

Orla staggered over and collapsed onto her stool, rubbing her neck. “What a day…” She muttered.

Melina chuckled tiredly. “Tomorrow’ll be even harder, at least for me…” She muttered, looking at the fire.

Orla looked up, smiling gently. “...You can do this, Melina. I was confident in you even before the Chief decided to fill herself up a full night before the contest started...in two days time you’ll be a free woman. I promise.”

Melina smiled back, reddening a bit as she brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Thanks, Orla, I...you know, I couldn’t have done this without you. Whatever happens, I want you to know that.”

Orla returned the smile, lowering her head in somewhat of a bashful gesture. “I...I’ll miss you...it’s been nice, having someone to talk to who understands me...or even wants to...It...Yeah…”

Melina gently bit her bottom lip, as if wrestling with something, and before she knew it, she had lurched forward, planting a swift but gentle kiss on the young orc’s lips.

Orla’s milky white eyes widened in surprise at the sudden kiss, and as Melina pulled back, she noted the girl’s shocked expression. Embarrassment, hot and sour, rose in her stomach as she began stammering out apologies.
“O-Oh, Orla, I’m sorry, I just...y-you know you had said...things, a-and I thought...I thought...Oh, please don’t hate me…”

To her credit, the young Orc was quite adept at hiding any deeper reactions. Melina watched her on tenterhooks, deathly afraid that she’d overstepped...But after a moment, Orla leaned forward, reaching out to feel for Melina’s face and pulling her into a gentle kiss over own.

Melina’s eyelids fluttered as she felt Orla's surprisingly soft lips on her own once again... she was just barely beginning to lean into the kiss when Orla pulled away, her lips still puckered.

“Don’t be sorry…” She said softly, smiling as her cheeks reddened. “Just go get some rest.”

Melina sat there swaying for a while before doing as instructed, rising up out of her chair and making her way back to the small bed she had called her own for the past week.

As she lay down, she traced her fingers over her lips, still tingling from where Orla’s had touched them. With a smile, she closed her eyes.

TO BE CONCLUDED....

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