The Prison Realm

Chapter 3: Premium Packages

Garin'thar:

Garin'thar couldn't believe what he was seeing. One moment he was counting guards and trying not to be distracted by the smell of unwashed bodies and fear, and the next he caught the eye of a human. She was staring at him curiously, watching him as though he was the one on display.

She was remarkably attractive for a human.

She had deep brown eyes, and her long dark hair fell in loose waves around her face. She had obviously attempted to tame it, but it remained a little wild. She had a full mouth and a straight nose. She was unfortunately unfortunately underweight, likely a result of her captivity. Her frayed slave shift came down to the tops of her thighs and light brown skin shone in the dim light of the torches.

Garin'thar stopped to meet her eyes, his own curiosity getting the better of him when she did not immediately look away.

The Paragon slaver continued to speak as though Garin'thar were still following after him in the aisles.

"Our humans are trained to please their masters," the male droned on. "I can assure you that any female of your choosing will be willing and waiting for your touch."

Garin'thar spared the cloaked man a glance to make sure he was not getting too far ahead of him. Then he turned his attention to the human again.

Hours ago Garin'thar had been right outside the camp, estimating the just how many men his tribe could expect to encounter and inspecting the terrain around it. He'd found a few dozen personal tents that likely housed each cultist and an open area with a large firepit, some kind of dais, and a rough sculpture of the deranged three-horned god the cult worshiped. Their defenses would be laughable if not for the fact that every single man also carried a wand.

The Paragons sacrificed everything for a touch of their god's magic. It contorted their skeletal frames, stretching their skin to point that it could tear by simply making a sudden move. The fact that cult considered themselves superior and holy was just a testament to how delusional their god made them. The only saving grace these women could be grateful for was that access to the Paragons' magic also required a vow of chastity.

The Paragon finally seemed to notice that Garin'thar had stopped.

His frail body turned to face him.

"See something you like?" the Paragon asked.

Garin'thar held the woman's gaze

He had only asked to see the slave tent to complete his report. The plan had to been tell the slaver that Garin'thar needed to think about such an expensive purchase and promise to return to buy a slave another time.

Where was this interest in a slave coming from? Her eyes were locked, narrowed with something like determination. Then she lifted a hand and beckoned the orc with a sly smile and a crook of her finger.

The cultist jerked in surprise.

"There. In the back," Garin'thar told the slaver.

The Paragon gently cupped his hands together with a slight bow and gave Garin'thar a tight smile.

"Wonderful! Right this way."

Garin'thar followed him through the winding rows of cages. When they finally approached her cell she was waiting for him, but her fellow humans had jumped to her side. They tugged at her arm, hissing at her in furious whispers.

"The fuck are you doing!"

"This is not a solution! Rosa, don't!"

The girls all stepped back the moment Garin'thar came near. His human didn't flinch. He wondered if she would do well to do so. She had no idea what kind of orc he was.