The sun had crossed the threshold to the western side of the sky, and was beginning its slow descent down, when Alfie finally called for them to halt and set up camp.

"This endless walking makes me restless!" Dorn complained, out of nowhere. "I've an idea," he turned to Alfie. "You and I will spar. To the victor, the glory."

She looked at him like he had lost his goddamn mind.

"No weapons, no armor, no magic, a true match of prowess. Prepare yourself!"

She supposed those rules leveled the playing field somewhat, although she wasn't sure in whose favor. What she did know was that, in a test of strength, he would undoubtedly beat her, but she figured it couldn't hurt to get some hand-to-hand combat training in and, besides, it might be fun.

They found a flat piece of land nearby their camp, but still out of the way of her companions that were actually participating in setting up said camp, and began their contest. Him, obviously going easy on her, as his huge frame and muscles could easily snap her spine in half, if he so tried. Despite his pity, Alfie still somehow found herself being roughly grappled into the dirt after nearly every attempt she made on him.

"Your form is poor," he chided her, "and you hold back when you should strike. You have much to learn, Alfie."

She was on her hands and knees struggling to catch her breath after her most recent descent, but managed to look up at him with a sheen of sweat covering her face along with her crooked, evil grin. "Well then, you'll find me a fast learner," she remarked as she lunged at him suddenly, attempting to strike him directly in the throat. He caught her fist in one of his large hands, easily, showing absolutely no facial expression at all, until he used the fist he still held onto to pull her in towards him and peered at her face as though he were just seeing it for the first time.

"You are an attractive woman, Alfie."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she could feel an extra flush rising to her cheeks, but, instead, chose to play it off as if such words didn't affect her at all. Well that came out of nowhere…she thought. "I must admit, you have a certain rugged… tusked allure yourself."

"Next time, perhaps the sparring will be a little more intimate."

Once more, days later, Alfie and her companions were toiling away, setting up their camp, and, once more, Dorn Il-Khan had the "wonderful" idea that she should spar with him, "to gain more experience".

"Fine," she grumbled. "But this time I want to do it farther away from our encampment. Last time, Viconia secretly watched and saw me get my ass handed to me about a zillion times in a row and she still won't let it go. Every. Single. Time that we're about to enter combat she whispers in my ear to "not forget how to cast my spells this time", as if I actually forgot how to, I swear this time you better give me some real tips, Dorn, some that I can use to practice pummeling her stupid, beautiful face in with."

The two of them started off together in search of good sparring grounds. Dorn could not quite understand the strange bonds that Alfie had built with each of their party members, but she seemed to care deeply for each one in their own right. He supposed it felt foreign to him, since the only traveling comrade of theirs that he felt any sort of way about was Alfie herself. Now that he thought about it though… none of their other allies seemed to care much about one another either… they made a good team in a fight and tolerated each other just fine the rest of the time… but the only true connecting thread between them all was her, Alfie— not that it mattered much to him.

He quietly listened to her rampant complaining until they had walked nearly an hour away from their campsite together. He glanced around the repetitive landscape. "This seems as good a spot as any," he stated.

"What?— ohh right," she said as she seemed to remember why they actually came here.

She pulled off her hooded cloak and laid it to the wayside, as Dorn shed his last remaining bits of armor and unbuckled his sword belt to discard the great sword he wore. They quickly assumed their bare-handed fighting positions and, in a flurry, were violently tussling with one another again.

This time, they ended up dueling for much longer, having extra energy due to a less intensive day, and also because of the effort they had already put into coming here. Despite his considerable advantage in physicality, Alfie was more dexterous than he, and found she was able to swiftly maneuver her way around his reach and even managed to knock him off balance more than once. She was getting better, certainly, but, still, was no match for his expertise in close combat, and, at this point, her arms and legs were beginning to feel like they were made of gelatine.

"Can we go now?" She implored him. "I'm ready to curl up in my bedroll and have a niiiiice big slumber," she said as she arched her aching back and stretched her graceful arms above her head. Her languid movements mesmerized him and he had to quickly glance away in order to avoid being caught staring.

"Once more," he growled.

"Fine." She glared at him and let out an exasperated sigh.

This time, after their initial contact, instead of taking a step back to attempt to read her next move, Dorn feinted, then finessed his way behind her back and, in a split second, had her in a hold, with both of his muscular arms encircling her entire torso in a tight grip, pinning her arms to her sides, uselessly.

"Aw, no fair, you snuck up on me," she halfheartedly protested. "I guess that means you win. Can we go back now?"

"Not yet," he exhaled into her ear, the breathiness of it tickling her.

"Not yet?" She cried, indignantly. "What do you mean not—oh," her tone changed suddenly as she felt something hot and rigid begin poking at her backside. She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Is that a great sword in your breeches, or are you just happy to see me?"

"My sword is where I left it, I know not what you mean by that."

"That's not really—," she sighed, beginning to feel antsy. "Ah, just forget it." Alfie knew that having Dorn standing to her right hand at all times made her seem a lot more threatening, which she liked, however, she certainly didn't keep him in her party for his quick wits or humor. And the reason she did keep him around— his powerful sword arm— was still circled around her, preventing her from making any meaningful movements with her own arms. She wouldn't be able to perform the somatic components of any of her spells like this, if she needed to. She felt him continue to press himself into her as a sort of dread began to set in. "Well, maybe I can help you out back at camp-," she started before he cut her off.

"I think not." Fighting always made his blood simmer with an exquisite bloodlust. Fighting with her in such close quarters created a type of bloodlust that was, to him, indistinguishable from sexual fervor. "There are too many others there, and I can wait for you no longer." He intended to make good on his earlier vow to her, the last time they had sparred.

"But the ground here is so hard, Dorn! I'd really prefer to be laying on my bedroll," she nervously tried to convince him. As charismatic and convincing as she usually was, his brain was far too clouded with desire to heed her wishes now.

"You will not need to be lying."

"Huh? But—," was all she was able to get out before she could feel his tongue begin to dance along the edge of her ear. She knew that ears were a fairly common erogenous zone, what she hadn't yet realized was that elven ears were on a whole different level.

"Mmm—mmhm," she started to whimper as her entire body practically went limp with arousal.

He continued to pin her body against his, as if she weighed nothing to him.

His tongue slid around the almost pointed tips of her right ear, and behind it, and down to her lobe where she could feel him begin to nibble on it, the position causing one of his small tusks to begin to press alarmingly into her slender throat, in an extremely possessive exhibit. She couldn't care less— at the current moment, she was just about as close to being in a heaven as she ever would be. Just the sensation of his hot breath fanning over the areas of her ear that were already glazed in his saliva was enough to make her sigh in pleasure. She felt the loss of his teeth on her lobe like the loss of a spell fizzling out— only for the feeling to be replaced a second later with a flush of exhilaration as his whole tongue began pushing into her ear canal.

She let out a high pitched keen and began to grind back on his erection to express her approval for the intense amount of gratification he was bestowing upon her. The pleasure she experienced from the hot and wet muscle worming inside such a sensitive organ felt so perverted, making it that much more arousing to Alfie, if her quickly dampening panties were any indication. His actions and body were enveloping her thoughts until it was just Dorn, Dorn, Dorn Il-Khan.

She finally allowed herself to relax into the indulgent affections as her eyelids fluttered close in contentment.

A mistake.

As soon as she had let her guard down, he abruptly kicked in the backs of her knees using one of his own, causing her to lose her already weak footing and tumble forward despite the hold he still had on her. Now it was much easier for him to press both of them onward, with her weight pulling down, causing their figures to fall, and arranging their bodies so that they were now on their knees with Dorn's hulking frame bearing down on hers, yet still clutching her torso against his. She could feel his hardness even more evidently in this position.

"You're being too—," she attempted to pitifully complain before Dorn lifted one of his hands to oppressively clamp over her mouth, so large it covered half of her face. "Mmmmm! Mmmmm!" she tried to scream through his fingers, but it was no use.

"And you are making this far too much fun," he fiendishly breathed into her ear, as he began to gather up her skirts and fling them up over her hips. Luckily for her, the front of the gown was firmly stuck by her hard-pressed knees on the ground, somewhat cushioning her from the unkind terrain, but she almost winced at how easy it was for him to move the back of her attire aside to grant himself access.

He finally released her torso, freeing her arms, while he still maintained a hold on her face. In spite of that, at this point, he was grinding himself so ruthlessly against her, with his well muscled body towering her, she wouldn't have been able to get up anyways. Now she pressed her palms flat against the earth, on either side of her head, to avoid having her face pushed into it. At least I could manage to cast some lower level spells now, though the vocal component might be tricky… it was all useless, she knew, he could crush her windpipe before she could create enough distance between them. He had the upper hand here, and it rankled her to know it.

She realized that he had let go of her to free himself, hearing the sounds of his breeches unlacing and the sudden smack! of him slapping the head of his cock on one of her asscheeks. She swallowed thickly. Without being able to see it, she could feel how heavy it was. What else could she have suspected? Even though she had no point of comparison with other humans or elves, orcs were a bigger species… which would likely mean that everything was bigger… and Dorn was half-orcish… It's not going to fit…

He practically tucked himself into her little red panties, not bothering to tear them this time, and began to slide himself along her folds, picking up the moisture that had collected there. Him, grunting in pleasure as her slick cunt felt so hot and delicious even just from the outside of it. Her breath caught in her throat every time the head of his cock rubbed against her clit. She wanted to grind back to chase that sensation but refused to give him the satisfaction of her desperation. She now felt him pressing slightly more earnestly into her entrance. Only the very tip of his prick being able to enter before she began to feel a stretch unlike any other. She whined underneath his hand as tears started to sting at the corners of her eyes. He continued to press himself in, albeit slowly. She had known that Dorn would not be gentle with her since the first time she had met him. She didn't care, truthfully, she didn't want anybody to treat her gently, it was not something she believed she deserved. Still, the girth of his manhood was stretching her little pussy farther than she would have felt possible— she began to feel a deep and unfamiliar pain before he could fit even half of his shaft inside of her.

He stilled, placing his free hand on the small of her back. Instinctively, she made an effort to relax into his touch, but still could not manage to ease up the intense grip that her pelvis had around his cock. With each attempt to push himself further inside her, he could feel her wincing in pain beneath him.

"This must be the tightest pussy in Baldur's Gate," he grunted, a sly grin beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Oh well, going this far shall have to be good enough for me."

She whined in embarrassment, his hand still clamped over her face.

He then began to oh-so-slowly pull out of her, both of them feeling every centimeter of the slow drag of his cock against all sides of her clenched walls. They groaned in unison at the stimulating sensation. Dorn had withdrawn himself until only his head remained sheathed inside her, then began to push himself back in, feeling her delicious heat swallow him up once again and hearing the delectable squelching sound it made. Never had anything or anyone else's body felt this good to him before. He couldn't stop himself from growling in pleasure at just the slightest of movements in and out of her— even if he could only use half of his dick to fuck her. She was a bawling mess beneath his weight, fully letting herself go limp while he had his way with her. He felt tears sliding down his left hand as he used the other to stabilize himself against her right hip, lifting her pelvis up to match his thrusting. Finally, he removed his hand from her face, instead, deciding to settle it in a grip around her shoulder and the nape of her neck.

"Is this too much for you half-elf?" He asked it more as a statement than a question.

She gasped for breath as her muzzle was lifted. "D-don't stop now," she tried to turn her face to gaze at him, her strawberry hair disheveled and green eyes glassy. "I'm not finished until you are."

He nearly laughed. He was beginning to feel himself slipping more easily inside of her, as if she were almost getting used to his strokes, and gave ear to every whine and moan that escaped her lips as his cock hit all of her sweet spots.

She was too far gone to care about what happened now. Her mind was split between somewhere far away and foggy, where it went when she was in the heat of a fight, and being jolted back to the Prime Material every time she felt the tip of Dorn's cock graze against her cervix. She had never felt so full in her entire life. So, this is what sex is like, then. She was pulled back to reality once again with a growing panic as she felt his thrusting becoming shorter and deeper.

"Human or half-breed?" He asked it, sounding for all the world as though he were asking what she wanted for supper. It took her brain a full second to even register what he was implying. She had never even heard of an elf and an orc reproducing with one another. She also was not one to say that it couldn't happen though. A scary thought. She had no time to utter a reply before she heard a guttural moan begin emanating from him and felt the strange sensation of him cumming as deep as he possibly could inside of her, filling her up completely. I-inside?!

Still, he continued to work himself into her in tiny strokes, not pulling out. With a pit opening up in her stomach, she waited underneath him until his cock softened inside her, and, finally, he pulled himself away, snapping her small clothes back into place while a dribble of his thick cum was already beginning to trickle down one of her thighs. He hadn't meant to finish so quickly, but that was too hard when it was finally with her.

He released her body as he swiftly tucked himself away. Alfie pushed her skirts back down as she attempted to gain some feeling back into her limbs.

She glared at him. "I could kill you for that."

He stared back at her, deadpan. "I know you could."

"If it takes—," she began to threaten.

"It will not," he replied solemnly. "I am barren." His tone indicated a lack of interest in discussing it further. "As much as I may treasure you, even I am not stupid enough to bring another Bhaalspawn upon this gods forsaken land."

She should have felt slightly offended by that statement, but she knew he was right, and was far too enamored by his use of "treasure" in reference to her.

"So… what are we now?" She asked cautiously.

He stood up and shrugged. "The same as before, I suppose, two idiots."

The only idiot here was him, she knew, but the last time she had said something like that to his face, he had threatened to knock her teeth out. After that, she had realized that there was probably nothing he could say or do that would diminish the profound infatuation that she had with him.

Instead, she pretended to struggle to stand up. "I think you may need to carry me back."

"Being teased for "not knowing how" to cast spells was not enough? Now you want to be tormented over "not knowing how" to walk?"

She flashed him one of her more evil smiles. He had a ranking of them all in his head. "Yes. I think I can handle it, at this point."

He collected all of their discarded items, then kneeled down to allow her to crawl her way onto his back, delicate arms draped over his broad shoulders. Silently, he began the steady trek back to their camp, his strong arms wrapping around her thighs to deftly support her weight, gripping on the backs of her knees.

Maybe one day she could get him to be rid of his demon patron for her. Maybe one day she could affix him permanently to her side, as a true partner, rather than just a traveling companion. Maybe one day she could control their sexual encounters enough to force him to be more tender with her. Next time, perhaps.