<div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Vorska, The Heart-Breaker</span></strong></div><div class="floatright">(https://i.postimg.cc/zBvd3VL4/icon.jpg)</div><strong>Age:</strong>32<br/><strong>Height:</strong>6'8"<br/><strong>Weight:</strong>230 Lbs.<br/><strong>Race:</strong>Half-Orc<br/><strong>Class:</strong>Barbarian: Totem of the Bear<br/><strong>Level: </strong>5<br/><br/><strong>Stats</strong><br/>https://ddb.ac/characters/28636149/HnpPjp<br/><strong>Rolls</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.postimg.cc/4yKF2msp/edrftgyuhjk.jpg)</div></div><br/><br/>An orcish warrior noble without parallel in the ways of combat, she has washed her hands of the business of pillaging, killing and burning in service of doing what she loves. Sex work!<br/><br/>A high priced harlot who is always looking for new experiences, she insists she will try most anything once. No one has made a liar of her yet...<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Backstory</div><div class="spoiler_body">Vorska.<br/><br/>She cut a tall silhouette against a background of flames, the product of generations of careful breeding as the strongest and fiercest of Orcs meticulously chose their mates to grant the honor of bearing their seed. They crafted a masterpiece, for within her blood a dozen barbarians and god-kings of legend sang next to the spirits of their lovers tiefling warrior poets, elvish nobility and... the occasional village girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and had big knockers. Some Orcish God-Kings in her line were a little less stingy with their semen than others... particularly Korbu, The Defiler of Waitresses!<br/><br/>Her full breasts heaved as she drew her muscular shoulders back, tensed in preparation for a mighty roar, "ARRRRRGH! ME AM THE DUCHESS VORSKA! SEED OF VAARK, THE BITER OF SWORDS! To soft-skins known by many titles am Vorska! SHE BE THE MAKER OF WIDOWS! MISTRESS OF CHAINS! THE COCK-BREAKER! Submit and you may yet see another dawn!"<br/><br/>The orc girl held aloft her thirty pound maul as if it were a slender reed, sleek muscles damp with excitement and perspiration as she held it aloft. The weapon cried out with an 80's metal hair band scream, furious pipe and drum music pulsing from it. A brutal pummeling device with a polished steel goat skull for the business end that glowed from within as if one of hell's demons had been trapped with in.<br/><br/>That would be ridiculous, of course! There were few orcish shamans who could so skillfully weave an entrapment as to hold a demon!<br/><br/>No, the actual story behind her weapon was way grislier! The sacred maul belonged to her grandfather, Vaark the third or fourth himself. Orcs are not good with math nor history so maybe it was the fourth? Maybe it was the third? BUT what is known is that the hellish maul was forged by captive dwarven artisans for a very specific and dark purpose. Vaark the... 3 and halfth had long been enamored with a tiefling bard's passionate music, so much so that he wished that her songs might never be far from him.<br/><br/>And so, as a desperate act of appreciation for her skill he showed his admiration for her by cutting off her head and sealing both it and her soul within the head of the weapon.<br/><br/>It SOUNDS pretty gruesome in summary, but the full story is actually waaaaay worse!<br/><br/>For like ten minutes, the legend goes into detail about the fact that the shaman didn't bother to measure the circumference of the bard's head before forging the maul and so it didn't quite fit.<br/><br/>So they had get a hammer and a chisel to lop off big chunks of...<br/><br/>That's really a tangent for later. Suffice to say, they got her inside the maul and after a few decades adjustment period, she served as loyal retainer and musician to the bloodline ever since! Few know the name of the weapon, and of those, even fewer dare speak it above a whisper...<br/><br/>They called her... Minstrel Pain.<br/><br/>Vorska slowly lowered her arm, turning to the left and then back to the right as she tried to decide in the mirror's image which side of hers was more terrifying. The vibrant vibrant yellow light at the heart of her weapon receded to a dull amber, the music dying as the skull flickering in tune to her voice as she chimed, "Oh, I liked that one!!! That was a pretty good entrance! Villagers would be freaking out left and right! If I had one note though, you might want to lose the word "submit". That's a little wordy for what you're going for! Maybe a "You gives up and I no eat you" kind of thing or... you know your dad used to drink lamp oil and would light it on fire as he vomited it out! It was AWESOME!"<br/><br/>Vorska sat down on the smoldering remains of a goat wagon, her mood pensive and brooding. Minstrel Pain smoldered with concern, "Are you well, Miss Vorska?"<br/><br/>"A deep seated ennui has settled over me, MP and I just can't seem to banish! I love PARTS of my work, truly I do! The raping is simply faboo, but the pillaging and the looting and the burning... It's really become tedious busy work in between naps and sex. I just don't have any passion for plunder like my Pops did!"<br/><br/>"I may just have a suggestion. Have you considered trying to better yourself?"<br/><br/>"Better myself? Is this another story about how fulfilling the bardic colleges were before they cut off your head and incased it in the talking scepter?"<br/><br/>"Maybe! All I am saying is you should definitely pursue your passion! They have all kinds of correspondence courses and study via scroll options available now! You don't even have to set foot in a classroom to learn a new trade!"<br/><br/>"Hmmmm..." She stroked her chin and pondered the matter...<br/><br/>"If you could be doing anything right now, what would it be?"<br/><br/>"What indeed?"<br/><br/><br/><br/><em><strong>Three Years Later...</strong></em><br/><br/>Vorska could feel the leather between her tusks, savoring its salty taste as the riders crop was brought down on her ass sharply. Glimdor leaned forward in the tiny saddle, his stubby dwarf fingers tangling in her hair as he firmly pulled her head back, "Now neigh! Neigh!"<br/><br/>The braids of his beard tickled across her back as Vorska let out her best whinny, knowing full well that it wouldn't be enough to satisfy him. Or at least he wouldn't admit it, now that he was in the saddle. Typically she would have drawn the line earlier in the session, but it had been a while since she had been manhandled. Dwarf handled?<br/><br/>And in all fairness, she had stirred the poor dwarven bastard into an absolute frenzy for the last two hours with no relief. Besides, she'd beat it out of him in the next session to make sure he knew who was in charge, "That's how you neigh? Do you want more of the lash?"<br/><br/>If she was entirely honest... she did. But she had other more pressing cravings than that. She tugged against his grip, causing him to tighten it around her hair until his knuckles were white, "What is it?"<br/><br/>He had not taken the leather bit out of her mouth and so her words came out a spit-slicken garbled mess. After teasing her by asking again and again, he at last removed it and left her gasping for air, "What do you need?"<br/><br/>"Mount me!"<br/><br/>"I am already in the saddle." Glim replied, chuckling despite the fact he knew full well what she meant.<br/><br/>She simply repeated, "Mount me!" The well muscled orc girl pressed her cheek against the polished oak floor of her caravan, arms buckling beneath her as she thrust her exposed ass out for the dwarf's pleasure.<br/><br/>In the corner of the room, her mystical weapon flickered like a torch. The steel goat skull was partially obscured by the Glimdor's burlap skivvies, which he had taken off when he'd changed into his custom tooled assless chaps. Minstrel Pain flickered again as she mumbled to herself, "Maybe she should have stuck with the family business... This is NOT what I was suggesting."<br/><br/>Thankfully, one of her eyes was obscured by the tiny pair of underwear, but the other had a bedside view as the dwarf spat into the palm of his hand and took his position behind her mistress. As low to the ground as she was, even with only one eye, the maul could see EVERYTHING, "Oh, that is WAY too many wiener piercings! Why are there two rings on the left testicle and three on the right?!? It's grossing me out AND fucking with my OCD!"<br/><br/>The maul began to rock herself, only able to shuffle a fraction of an inch at a time. Finally she managed to at last tip herself over on her "back" so she could stare at the ceiling. It wasn't long before she regretted that choice.<br/><br/>Somehow the sounds without images were worse...</div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Minstrel Pain</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.postimg.cc/fy7T0qKL/fd79104625cc01008f8ee4cee1903c19-maul-demons.jpg)</div></div>