The orc just about jumped out of her skin as the stronger woman was suddenly right in front of her, a finger on her chin guiding her eyes back to her and a faint scent of foreign flowers and fruit filling the air. Thankfully, she was dressed now, albeit in a skintight bodysuit made of green, leaf-like material that more or less only really hid her genitals and nipples. It ran from half way up her neck to her toes, more or less outlining her. “Better? Now, as for business…” The finger on Vashnoruk’s chin slid across her jaw, down her neck, shoulder, and arm, to take her hand and lead her to a table that had formed from wood more or less spontaneously.

Clearing her throat, the orc spoke, “I just need you to monitor the village for entry from anyone that doesn’t live there or isn’t under our protection as guests. Most likely they would enter from behind… ah, would try to come in from the water or the woods to the west. They have a small group of well-trained fighters that migrated from Jilsk. They were some of the finer fighters from their war of liberation, and even put down a pair of Beholders without backup. But that was with a lot of research and a loan of powerful equipment. You should be fine by yourself, but it’s possible you may need help. If you need me to, I can…” she looked out over the water, nervously considering she may need to take a second stone.

The curvy therianthrope rested an elbow on the table and leaned her head onto her hand. “Oh? Are you suggesting that you may need me to call in my own favors, for your benefit alone?” The tone that came out was as melodic and teasing as ever, but there was… more there, a barely concealed threat, a knowledge that debts to women like this did not go unpaid.

For a moment, the air was as thick as any seaside fog. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll discuss that possibility after I investigate these individuals. After all, you already owe me… oh, was it… thirteen debts now?” She asked airily, studying the shaman with a predatory look.

This made Vashnoruk clench her jaw and swallow hard. “Fourteen…” she muttered

“Hmm?” Asked the Witch, taking clear pleasure in the expression of power. And she wondered why Vashnoruk kept refusing her advances…

“Fourteen, Witch. And a half, since I couldn’t find all the scales you needed. You know that as well as I do, will you stop fucking with me already? I really don’t have time.” What was meant to come off as a rebellious snarl, rejecting her dominance, lacked much of the anger meant to come with it. In the end it was more of a desperate whine.

This was enough for Nyreia. “No, Little Sea Snake, I will not stop fucking with you until you acknowledge that you are mine. But that is many favors yet in the making. Unless you feel like giving in and ending this charade, feel like no longer pretending this ends any other way but with you serving my master at my side, together, forever. But somehow… I doubt that. I’m not even sure I want you to, that spirit of yours really does give me life. Foolish suggestions aside, I can do this for you.”

The table vanished as the older, stronger of the two stood smoothly, dumping Vashnoruk on her ass, leaving her staring up at her from the ground, knocking the air out of her lungs. “Go now, shaman. We both have work to do, and we cannot dally,” said Nyreia in a tone lacking much of the teasing fun of the rest of the encounter.

Before Vashnoruk could begin to herself, her body started moving for her, rising. The forced motion stopped at a kneel, though, barely reaching the witches thigh as a fingertip brushed Vashnoruk’s cheekbone, then chin. The other cupped her cheek and stroked her face in a way that would be lovingly if she wasn’t paralyzed.

The moment stretched out unto forever, the combination of the angle, the touch, and the scent leaving Vashnoruk struggling against herself, becoming worried that Nyreia had finally had enough waiting. “Ah… some day, but not today,” Nyreia spoke, longing, sadness, affection, love, and frustration all clear as the water of the pool beside them. Then she was gone.

Vashnoruk almost felt sorry for those that she encountered.

Back in control, Vashnoruk crawled up to her feet, shuddering. A hasty gate opened and she stumbled through into her home, crashing lightly into a wall before she stabilized herself.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Given the deep, primal urge to go back and present herself, how Nyreia barely pushed through the clear heartache, Vashnoruk knew this could have gone very, very differently… and with what happened at the end, very nearly did.

To fae and their servants, time is often an illusion. All it would take is Nyreia deciding to abduct her for but a day, and a year could pass before she noticed. Would Vashnoruk even want to leave by then?

Hell, she barely did already. Nyreia was a Therianthrope, but she was raised around fae and others of her kind exclusively. She had mastered the fae skills of drawing fascination, unyielding attraction, and cult-like devotion. There was little that Nyreia couldn’t convince Vashnoruk to do, debts or no. The shaman was just lucky that the witch was obsessed with the idea of Vashnoruk deciding to start a new life with her on her own.

She had strange, alien ethics, and could even be considered malicious in many ways, but Vashnoruk truly did believe that she would never do anything to harm her. Not of her own will.

Walking over to her potion cabinet, she plucked out four, for calming, focus, shedding mental intrusion, and to kill libido, downing them all simultaneously. Alone, they tasted rancid, but together it was truly horrid, and it burned like fire on the way down.

Three of the four worked at least.

Taking two more potions from her cabinet, to help her stay awake and focused long enough to perform the complex rituals involved with the kind of disasters she was about to bring upon this shoreside town, and the equally powerful shield around it. Every energy battery in town would be tapped out by the time she was done, and frankly so would half the people who volunteered for Vashnoruk to drain to keep up this storm.

Grabbing Aeva, a few other pieces of arcane equipment, as well as a large chalk, she stomped out of her home and across town to the rest house for the guards near the front gate. Without even a knock, she threw the door open and dropped her equipment in a corner, though Aeva she placed more carefully.

A startled guard gearing up to replace the one currently on shift jumped. “For fuck sake, witch, wha-” They nearly fell on their ass as the tall orc got in their face. “It’s. Shaman. Vashnoruk. Understand? Now leave.” The half-armored guard gave her a puzzled look and gestured to their uncovered lower half. “What? But I’m no-”

“Then dress outside! Get! The! FUCK! OUT!” Static filled the air and her jaw split into a wide snarl as the guard stared wide-eyed before stumbling out, dragging the armor and clothing they were changing into with them.

Maybe only two of the four worked, then. Oh well. No time to worry about it.

She didn’t bring the telepathy circle, so thankfully Aeva would be hard pressed to bother her during the middle of the conjuring. She shot Aeva a quick telepathic explanation of what was going on and promised more details later, but made it clear it was vital she be able to focus and stay on task for some time. Someone would be coming in to help care for her quietly from time to time and provide a comfortable place to rest, since this ritual would take more than a day.

There was much to do.