01-27-2016, 01:06 PM
A monstrous growl interpreted the heated conversation between the couple. Startled by the beastly noise, the two turned to Orihime with displeased looks on their faces.
“I’m…” she hesitated, “I’m really sorry,” Orihime pleaded, as a tear ran down her cheek, “please don’t kill me.” She then choked, gripping onto her stomach.
The couple exchanged menacing looks for what seemed like ages until Te’Zali released the girl. With a hard thump, Orihime was thrown to the feet of Zabajin, like a sack of potatoes.
“Fine keep this filth. She will be your undoing.” the troll woman warned and stormed out. A deathly silence filled the room while Orihime reluctantly picked herself off the floor.
“I hate to apologize,” the chief started, “my wife is superstitious.” The chief nodded toward Orihime, returning to his throne. “I believe I can find you useful,” he paused to examine his hand, that was now as good as new, “if not, then I will be the one to end you.”
A conglomerate of exotic fragrances pleasantly filled Orihime’s nostrils. Orihime carried heavy drinking horns, filled with a pungent liquid from across the once empty room, now full to capacity. Terrified, Orihime shivered while serving her order to a rowdy group of warriors, still dressed in battle garb. Zabajin had commanded a slave girl to assist her in serving his army of trolls with whatever they needed. The hall was alive with great many voices in a unique and foreign tongue. It was obvious that the only a few people understood her language, including the king and queen. With alcohol filling the bellies of the men, Orihime’s presence became only a mild annoyance to them instead of a threat. She delivered her last order to Zabajin himself and then proceeded to stand behind his throne on his orders to wait for further instruction. The room became louder with the joys of men, as the slaves brought out a massive buck, skinned and cooked whole. The mere sight of the cooked carcass made a river of saliva poor from Orihime’s mouth. When every table was filled with food the Chief rose from his place with his horn high above his head. The room abruptly became silent enough to hear a pin drop.
“Today the Gods smiled down on us with favor.” Pausing to look at the drunken, excited faces of his people, The Chief continued. “Not only where we gifted in battle but we were given a gift. Soon we will be ready to annihilate our enemy once and for all!” Zabajin boasted loudly as he threw the liquid in his cup high in the air, showering his drink all over his clan. The room exploded with voices and rained alcohol, as his people cheered.
Orihime witnessed Zabajin return to his place on his massive throne decorated with exquisite furs and ferocious teeth. She was sick to her stomach as she watched miserably, as everyone around her indulged themselves in their grand feast. One of the more muscular troll warriors approached Zabajin and sat in the seat next to him. He was frighteningly intimidating, towering several feet over the chief, his build substantially larger than Zabajin’s.They spoke to each other in the tongue that she did not recognize, exchanging curious looks in her direction. His troll eyes felt like they were looking straight into her soul and she cringed away as he got up and approached her.
“Hungry?” he spoke in her broken language to the doe-eyed girl.
“Yes.” Orihime murmured uncomfortably.
With a smirk, he shoved a stone bowl into her shaky hands. What appeared to be some sort of larva, covered in spices, filled its contents. Orihime looked up at this face and saw that he was smiled amusedly down at her. “Eat” the warrior commanded.
With some hesitation, the girl reached into the bowl and plucked out a soft, moist larva. It was the size of mooncake and it smelled like bean curd. Closing her eyes, she imagined she was back at home cooking dinner, before plopping the insect into her mouth. The texture of the creature was warm like a steamed bun but squishy like mochi. The taste was extremely pungent, similar to horseradish and it made her eyes water. The warrior burst with amusement at the sour look on the girl's face. This did not stop Orihime from popping another sucker straight into her mouth. His face turned from amusement to shock as he watched her finish her bowl.
“That was not half bad once you get past the texture” Orihime swallowed, handing the bowl back to the troll.
Rufio could barely control his laughter as he watched this pathetic creature woof down the bot files with ease. No outsider has ever been able to stomach the delicacy. He called the servants to bring over several more plates of food. Rabbit brains, roasted bat, and centipede root stew, it did not matter, the girl ate it all and asked for seconds. By the third round, she had grown the attention of the men around her as they watched in the same bewilderment. Soon everyone was participating in the event by giving her many different dishes to taste. One of them bestowed her a cup or rum which she gulped to wash it all down.
Zabajin watched the spectacle unfold with a pleased expression. Orihime was the pet that everyone had started to come around to, giving her their table scraps they observed that she meant them no harm. The first impression of the captive was better than expected. Looking around the room at all the smiling faces, a sense of pride filled him. These were his people and he would do anything to protect, no matter the cost.
“I’m…” she hesitated, “I’m really sorry,” Orihime pleaded, as a tear ran down her cheek, “please don’t kill me.” She then choked, gripping onto her stomach.
The couple exchanged menacing looks for what seemed like ages until Te’Zali released the girl. With a hard thump, Orihime was thrown to the feet of Zabajin, like a sack of potatoes.
“Fine keep this filth. She will be your undoing.” the troll woman warned and stormed out. A deathly silence filled the room while Orihime reluctantly picked herself off the floor.
“I hate to apologize,” the chief started, “my wife is superstitious.” The chief nodded toward Orihime, returning to his throne. “I believe I can find you useful,” he paused to examine his hand, that was now as good as new, “if not, then I will be the one to end you.”
A conglomerate of exotic fragrances pleasantly filled Orihime’s nostrils. Orihime carried heavy drinking horns, filled with a pungent liquid from across the once empty room, now full to capacity. Terrified, Orihime shivered while serving her order to a rowdy group of warriors, still dressed in battle garb. Zabajin had commanded a slave girl to assist her in serving his army of trolls with whatever they needed. The hall was alive with great many voices in a unique and foreign tongue. It was obvious that the only a few people understood her language, including the king and queen. With alcohol filling the bellies of the men, Orihime’s presence became only a mild annoyance to them instead of a threat. She delivered her last order to Zabajin himself and then proceeded to stand behind his throne on his orders to wait for further instruction. The room became louder with the joys of men, as the slaves brought out a massive buck, skinned and cooked whole. The mere sight of the cooked carcass made a river of saliva poor from Orihime’s mouth. When every table was filled with food the Chief rose from his place with his horn high above his head. The room abruptly became silent enough to hear a pin drop.
“Today the Gods smiled down on us with favor.” Pausing to look at the drunken, excited faces of his people, The Chief continued. “Not only where we gifted in battle but we were given a gift. Soon we will be ready to annihilate our enemy once and for all!” Zabajin boasted loudly as he threw the liquid in his cup high in the air, showering his drink all over his clan. The room exploded with voices and rained alcohol, as his people cheered.
Orihime witnessed Zabajin return to his place on his massive throne decorated with exquisite furs and ferocious teeth. She was sick to her stomach as she watched miserably, as everyone around her indulged themselves in their grand feast. One of the more muscular troll warriors approached Zabajin and sat in the seat next to him. He was frighteningly intimidating, towering several feet over the chief, his build substantially larger than Zabajin’s.They spoke to each other in the tongue that she did not recognize, exchanging curious looks in her direction. His troll eyes felt like they were looking straight into her soul and she cringed away as he got up and approached her.
“Hungry?” he spoke in her broken language to the doe-eyed girl.
“Yes.” Orihime murmured uncomfortably.
With a smirk, he shoved a stone bowl into her shaky hands. What appeared to be some sort of larva, covered in spices, filled its contents. Orihime looked up at this face and saw that he was smiled amusedly down at her. “Eat” the warrior commanded.
With some hesitation, the girl reached into the bowl and plucked out a soft, moist larva. It was the size of mooncake and it smelled like bean curd. Closing her eyes, she imagined she was back at home cooking dinner, before plopping the insect into her mouth. The texture of the creature was warm like a steamed bun but squishy like mochi. The taste was extremely pungent, similar to horseradish and it made her eyes water. The warrior burst with amusement at the sour look on the girl's face. This did not stop Orihime from popping another sucker straight into her mouth. His face turned from amusement to shock as he watched her finish her bowl.
“That was not half bad once you get past the texture” Orihime swallowed, handing the bowl back to the troll.
Rufio could barely control his laughter as he watched this pathetic creature woof down the bot files with ease. No outsider has ever been able to stomach the delicacy. He called the servants to bring over several more plates of food. Rabbit brains, roasted bat, and centipede root stew, it did not matter, the girl ate it all and asked for seconds. By the third round, she had grown the attention of the men around her as they watched in the same bewilderment. Soon everyone was participating in the event by giving her many different dishes to taste. One of them bestowed her a cup or rum which she gulped to wash it all down.
Zabajin watched the spectacle unfold with a pleased expression. Orihime was the pet that everyone had started to come around to, giving her their table scraps they observed that she meant them no harm. The first impression of the captive was better than expected. Looking around the room at all the smiling faces, a sense of pride filled him. These were his people and he would do anything to protect, no matter the cost.
![[Image: Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/04/09/Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif)