Althea. Althea, Althea, Althea. The perfect woman. Her perfect breasts, her perfect raven hair, her perfect green eyes that matched her perfect pale skin. The perfect way her perfect hips flowed into her perfectly small waist. Even her perfect race—she was a half-elf after all. Never did I think such a woman could exist that was as beautiful as I am.
Yeah we went to the Feywild, and I guess I should record some of the stuff that happened there, if not for my kill tally that I keep. So here is that stuff:
- Outsmarted Valthrun by figuring out how to use the throne to teleport to the Feywild.
- Tried to kill some knights that were part of a game room (game field?) but Lyssa wiped blood on a stone and they stopped attacking us
- Killed some giant crocodile thingys that really seemed to have a taste for my flesh. They way they fought over me was almost like how all women always fight over me whenever I’m in a room.
- Killed some cyoclopses in a fortress
- Elyas‘s pet’s mother let us pass through another cavern.
- Smashed a cauldron and Vard who was inside. Valthrun took his eye.
So we returned to Moonstare and they were so thankful and then there she was at the bar. A perfect ten, an eleven if I were allowed to count that high. Her eyes caught mine. She got up, walked over to where I was sitting, and sat down to the right of me, sipping her Elven wine, legs crossed. We just sat there, drinking in silence, me unable to think about anything but those breasts popping out of that corset and what I’d like to be doing to them. Eventually she finished her wine, got up, and turned toward me. She said nothing, still silent, but put her right hand down on my inner thigh, squeezed gently, gave me a look that even I could understand, and walked up the stairs of the inn.
I followed her up those stairs, and what happened that night is never something I’ll be able to describe for as awesome as it was. I only know that no other women will ever match her. Ever.