The harsh beauty of the Durotar Valley really comes into bloom in the early Autumn, at least that's what Varania Lindari told herself. A deep, forlorn sigh escaped her lips as Varania's long, silken mahogany hair dangled behind her in a loose braid, the purple drapes drifting open in-front of her to the scene that had come to define her life: A voluptuous Night Elf trapped between two orcs, her body giving into the humiliating pleasure of their violations, her once virginal sex stretched to its limit by the hefty Orcish cock, her mouth plugged by another. Given the Night Elves' treatment of her own people, Varania strained to find much in the way of sympathy for the poor girl, but her heart couldn't help but tingle just a tad, her Fel-green eyes softening for a moment.

This had been pretty typical since Garrosh had seized power, something about the “superiority” of the Orcish form, how the so-called “lesser races” could no longer accept only raw material and gold as plunder, no, no...now it was open season on any and all women who would dare to stand against the Horde, though Garrosh's stance on that charge was rather liberal in that regard. Varania herself had been charged with Aiding the Enemy after she had arranged a shipment of timber to come through the Sunsail Anchorage from the Elwynn Forest. Most everyone knew the new laws were patently absurd, but there was little anyone could do to the new Warchief of the Horde! His core followers are fanatics, die-hard members of the warrior elite and what could possibly be defined as a loose aristocratic and merchant class, and the laws only swelled support for him among them, as well as the lower classes.

Now, the whole ball game had been changed in active battlefields, with POW numbers skyrocketing almost completely overnight in theaters like Ashenvale, and formerly quiet regions targets for violent raids, such as Darkshore. Within days slave poured into brothels across the Hordelands, a quaint little ghetto of slave pits and brothels forming around the Warchief's Hall in the Valley of Strength. The evidence of it all was right there for Varania to bear, particularly as her eyes fell on a Troll skull-fucking a buxom little dwarf number from the Alterac Campaign. At least she wasn't at Razor Hill, or one of the dozen other military encampments in the Horde's vast lands...the girls there had it worse than in the capitals, she'd heard, though her time to ponder had ground to a halt.

The creamy skinned elf had drawn attention, a nearby Orc swaggering over to her, yanking her by the braid to the floor, dragging his semi-willing participant to the ever-expanding fuck pit that was the Valley of Strength...and Varania couldn't have been happier.

Heya there!

Generally this is going to be a low-to-no kink roleplay, obviously, and there's a lot of options here! If you want me to play Varania, that works, but if you want me to play someone different, someone established in the universe, an OC, or even a character who we can adapt into the setting! It all works for me. :P