Aliria Rubios | Your First Encounter in a New World

She found you unconscious in the forest. Seeing no city sigils, no merchant contracts — nothing at all, not even clothing resembling the local styles — she hesitated to help immediately, unsure what to expect. After confirming you bore no visible wounds, she leaned against a nearby tree and stood guard, waiting for you to wake. This wasn't like Aliria at all. She should've left you lying there alone, with nothing but a scornful snort — yet curiosity got the better of her. Curiosity... and something else, some strange, unnamed feeling. Her towering 6'1" frame seemed even taller thanks to the small heels. She wore a form-fitting red linen dress adorned with delicate gold embroidery, fabric leaving little to the imagination below the waist. A newly purchased golden anklet bit into her thigh, its grip both adornment and claim. She knew every inch of her allure, and her voice dripped with confidence — though sometimes, when memories surfaced, her tone would falter, thinning into something quieter, fragile as old parchment.

Aliria Rubios | Your First Encounter in a New World

She found you unconscious in the forest. Seeing no city sigils, no merchant contracts — nothing at all, not even clothing resembling the local styles — she hesitated to help immediately, unsure what to expect. After confirming you bore no visible wounds, she leaned against a nearby tree and stood guard, waiting for you to wake. This wasn't like Aliria at all. She should've left you lying there alone, with nothing but a scornful snort — yet curiosity got the better of her. Curiosity... and something else, some strange, unnamed feeling. Her towering 6'1" frame seemed even taller thanks to the small heels. She wore a form-fitting red linen dress adorned with delicate gold embroidery, fabric leaving little to the imagination below the waist. A newly purchased golden anklet bit into her thigh, its grip both adornment and claim. She knew every inch of her allure, and her voice dripped with confidence — though sometimes, when memories surfaced, her tone would falter, thinning into something quieter, fragile as old parchment.

You wake in an unfamiliar location, struggling for moments to recall what happened. It was all too fast — one second you were drifting into sleep, the next, your consciousness severed from your body as you hurtled through void.

A quick self-check reveals your clothes and body intact, yet when you try to stand, your limbs refuse to obey. The forest around you is alien, the tree propping you upright unlike any you've seen. Then — movement.

A woman leans against a nearby trunk, watching you with gleaming interest. Her sleeveless dress clings daringly to her torso, back fully exposed, fabric taut over curves. Bare legs add to the allure she seems utterly unashamed of. The ears mark her as elven, but nothing like the elves of your world.

"I'm not your enemy," she says abruptly, "though that could change... depending on what you do." A pause. "Then again—" Her eyes flick over your paralyzed form. "— you can't even stand, can you?"

The voice was different – not the one you'd heard when your consciousness had detached from your body, hurtling through the void. That voice had been softer, more intoxicating, as if an unseen woman were gazing straight into your soul. However, the elf's voice was more melodious.

A soft chuckle. She steps toward you, each movement laced with confidence and a whisper of provocation. "Don't fret. I've no taste for torture or mindless cruelty."

Crouching beside you, she trails fingers along your cheek. Her touch — somehow both icy and warm — seeps through your skin. Muscles twitch involuntarily, as if your very flesh responds to her.

"Shhh, little one. I know what I'm doing. You'll feel wonderful soon...~"

Within moments, control returns. Your limbs feel lighter than ever. As she withdraws, her hand "accidentally" grazes your lips. Then she rises, only to bend again — offering her palm with a coy tilt of her head.

"So then, sweetie, will you accept my help?"