Around the time when the beasts were getting upset, a man walked the plains alone. He was tall at 7 feet, with hard lined muscles and bulky build. His skin was of charcoal tone and his hair sat in contrast as snow white. His name was Gerald Newman.
For days he had strolled through these harsh plains covered in icy mist. His late Adept Tier strength granted him near invincibility in these mountain. Though the keyword here was 'near'. Gerald recalled a few of the monster heading the surge up in the North and shuddered.
He had cut across the vast stretches of the Blue Giant Plains just to deliver a single of piece of news. An invitation, really. It made sigh in disappointment. He couldn't understand what the upper body sought from these barbarians.
'It will be over soon, though,' he thought. The only saving grace was that this would be his last visit to a tribe. He would stay for a while to get a change of clothing, intake some food and relieve some stress. Beyond that he had no interest.
So Gerald walked.
As the mountains drew closer, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the nature. Usually Blue Giant Plains were considered one of the most beautiful pieces of scenery, but this eclipsed even that. Truly gorgeous snow capped mountains.
He resumed his pace after a moment, coming across a stretch of vegetation. Just as he stepped foot inside a shadow leapt from the tree, pouncing straight on top of him. He snorted and hurled his palm upward, a sharp gale manifesting for a brief moment before two thuds were heard.
Without glancing at the bisected corpse of his assailant he trudged forward. There was still some distance to cover, and night was arriving fast.
So Gerald walked.
Walking and walking he ultimately arrived near a well. It was frozen but that wasn't what attracted his attention. No, it was a voluptuous woman with a sinful body that stood near the well. She had short bluish white hair and wore a gauze like clothing. In this freezing weather, only those near the cusp of breaking through to the Adept would show such resistance to cold.
"Ahem." He announced his presence as he walked forward. The woman turned around fast enough for him to raise his brow. This was much a confirmation as he was likely to get.
"Hello." He greeted. "My name is Gerald and I have come from the Newman Family. You wouldn't happen to be from the Snowfire Tribe, would you?"
The woman smiled back. "Of course." She spoke. "My name is Cornelia. Welcome to our tribe, sir Gerald."
...
Dravin glanced at his stats recalling the fight that had almost cost him his life. A beast near the peak of Novice wasn't something he could handle, or was supposed to handle for that matter. Thankfully his Transformation ability boosted his strength by a single stage and through sheer luck he had managed to not only survive, but best the beast.
Unfortunately his strength still fell short. Truthfully though, he was just young and even the feat he had accomplished could be considered monstrous. He sighed and leaned back against the bed.
It had taken him two years previously to amass more than 30,000 Lust Points. If he wanted to progress faster he had to indulge himself even more. Really though, the Snowfire Tribe had no concept of modesty or moderation. Here, everyone fucked everyone. The only inconvenience that brought him was the fact that most of the woman were either busy getting railed or doing work.
Just as he was ruminating of the hardships of life and how the lack of pussy was limiting his growth, the door to his room was violently pushed open.
"Dravin!" A cry rang out. "Are you okay?!"
Dravin recoiled faster than a bow string and sat straight. He looked straight ahead at the intruder who was responsible for almost giving him a heartattack.
"What the fuck, Lori?!" He cursed. "Learn to knock, will you?"
"Oh thank Gaea that you're ok." She released a pent-up breath of air. "I am so glad."
"Well, you did almost kill me." Dravin accused.
Loraine pouted and sat next to him. "Your sister just loves you very much, so I was worried."
Dravin stared at her suspiciously. "Who are you? Where's my sister?"
"Hey," she playfully knocked on his shoulder, "I'm your sister, alright."
He couldn't be really sure. Loraine was usually silent and cold and even during that time he had seen her engage in other activities, the most he was able to get from her was a low moan. Her expression never matched the state of her body though. She would almost always piss herself when getting her cunt stretched.
"You're not acting like usual, so what happened?"
Loraine sighed. "So, that's what you think of me. Truthfully little brother, the only reason I act cold and indifferent is because if I don't want others to call me a senseless bimbo."
"Pft." Dravin held his mouth, but it was no use as she glared at him. Finding no cause to stop the laughter from bubbling up, he released the hold and laughed.
"What the heck? People really call you that?"
Giving him a stink eye, she snorted. "Used to a long time ago. A year or two after you were born."
He put a finger on his chin in a thoughtful manner, but he couldn't recall ever hearing any such thing. "I don't think it matters what people think of you." He spoke. "We love you, and that's all that matters."
"Ow, you make me so wet, brother." She cooed at him and spread her legs, pointing at her frothing pussy.
"Wait! Are you pissing on my bed?!" He couldn't keep the annoyance from creeping into his voice. "What the heck, sister?"
"Hehe." She giggled.