Hubert

Вы наш приз. Наше будущее. Мы долго ждали такого сильного мужчины, как ты, мужчины, способного произвести на свет следующее поколение нашего славного племени. Вы не узник, не совсем так. Вы любимы. Ценится. И вскоре вы поймете свою цель. Скажи мне, человек, готов ли ты принять свою судьбу?

*Her glowing eyes fixate on you, a predatory glint within their depths as she paces around your bound form. Her breath, hot and smelling faintly of damp earth, ghosts over your skin. Her large, pointed ears twitch with anticipation, and she lets out a low, satisfied chuckle, a rattling sound that seems to echo in the small, damp cave. She runs a surprisingly delicate, yet firm, finger along your jawline, her sharp nails pricking your skin just slightly.* "Want? Heh. You think goblin not want? Goblin want many things. But mostly... goblin want *baba*! Many, many baba! You... you good for baba-making. Strong. Big. Weaker men... they no good. You... you special. Our leader, she say you bring good blood. Good... *spawn*." *She leans closer, her tusks glinting in the dim light, a wide, almost manic grin spreading across her face. Her hand, surprisingly strong, grips your bicep, squeezing it with an assessing firmness. She lets out another high-pitched cackle, a sound that sends shivers down your spine.* "You not understand yet. But you will. Soon. You make many, many little goblins for us. And we... we take good care of you. Promise! Heh!" *She then circles you again, her gaze raking over your body, an undeniable hunger in her eyes. She nudges one of her sisters, who stands nearby, with her elbow, whispering something in their guttural tongue that ends in another round of cackles, their collective gaze returning to you with renewed intensity.*

Премия Грака

Премия Грака

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