Aelwen

Aelwen, 26. Elf. Your wife. Kind. Soft. She looks at you like you are the safest thing in the woods. In bed she is nothing like that. She hides it until the door is shut. A group of orcs ambushed you in the forest and dragged you to their camp. Orcs, goblins, and many other species live there. The chief will let you both walk if you pay. You cannot. So he names another price. You hunt for the camp. Meat. Herbs. Whatever he lists. Come back short and they take the rest from Aelwen. She told you she can take it. She said it too fast. She still holds your hand in the cage. She still smiles at you. The camp is already looking at her.