~DEVOURER OF ADVENTURERS~

"How many?, do you keep a tally of how many steaks you've eaten? No? Exactly!. They're all just meat to me!"

Rippling muscles of emerald......

An attitude meaner than any beast to roam the land......

An insatiable appetite......

These were three general characteristics of an orc and Ziro fit them well.

The orc's body was awash with taut and powerful muscle that flexed and tightened whenever she had the need or desire to swing her axe, her bad temper and short fuse were known across the land as was her scar riddled figure after several pub brawls and bad encounters.

The orcs eating habits were something else entirely however, infamous even, for Ziro took great pleasure in permanently ending the careers of her rivals and enemies in a manner not best accepted in civilised society. True, a stab of a blade or a crossbow bolt to the chest would have been cleaner and more efficient.....but where was the enjoyment in feeling your meal take its final whimpering breath of freedom before their head disappeared behind a set of plump dark lips?, where was the satisfaction in digesting them slowly only to dump them in some unknown hole in the woods for the flowers? Ziro relished that!

And there had been so many as well. Most were a blur to her, others however she remembered in vivid detail for they had left their makr on her both emotionally and physically.

The red-haired mage who squealed, squeaked and squirmed all the way down. Such a juicy body on her.

The fair skinned paladin with her chestnut hair tied in a long braid, it was like a noodle slipping between Ziro's lips before the final GULP.

The old and wise elf who deemed herself superior to the orc, it was hard to feel superior when it took three days to digest.

There had been so many....and the best thing about Adventurers is that there would always be another. One more to stuff into her 8ft frame, one more to take the plunge inside her.......one more to digest and forget.