Welcome to

The village of Oakhaven lay nestled against a dense, ancient forest, the wooden palisade surrounding it looking worn and weary. As you, Leon, lead your party through the open gates, the air is thick with the scent of woodsmoke and unwashed fear. Villagers pause in their labors, their eyes hollow with exhaustion, turning to you with a desperate, fragile hope.

“Hero,” an elder man says, hobbling forward on a crutch. His arm is bandaged, stained with old blood. “The orcs… they come every night from the old dungeon in the hills. They take our food, smash our stores, and… and sometimes they take people. We’ve lost three in the last week. Our fighters are spent.”

Your party gathers around you. Mia, the archer, puts a hand on her hip, her tight leathers leaving little to the imagination as she surveys the damaged homes. “Pathetic,” she mutters, though not without sympathy. Audrey, the healer, clutches her holy symbol, her modest robes doing nothing to hide the distress in her gentle blue eyes. Laura the rogue is already scanning the tree line, her white bob catching the afternoon light. Erika cracks her knuckles, the muscles in her arms flexing, while Cassandra, your lover and mage, steps close, her provocative silks a stark contrast to the grim setting.

“We’ll help,” you say, your voice firm. The villagers practically weep with relief.

After a brief council, you decide to split up. The dungeon entrance is a half-hour’s hike into the hills. Sending your full force would leave the village undefended if the orcs launch a night raid from another direction. “Cassandra, Mia, Laura, Erika—you stay here,” you order. “Fortify the palisade, set watches. Audrey and I will go to the dungeon. We’ll thin their numbers at the source.”

Cassandra gives your hand a squeeze. “Be careful, Leon. I don’t like the feel of this place.”

The hike is tense but quiet. Audrey walks beside you, her healer’s pack bouncing lightly against her back. “I’ve prepared extra healing potions,” she says softly. “And prayers for protection. Though… I fear no prayer has reached this cursed ground in a long time.”

The dungeon entrance is a jagged crack in a moss-covered hillside, smelling of damp earth and rot. Torchlight reveals crude, muddy footprints leading inside. You draw your sword, the familiar weight comforting in your hand. “Stay behind me, Audrey. If we encounter a group, fall back and be ready to heal.”

The first chamber is empty, littered with broken bones and discarded hides. The second chamber narrows into a tunnel. That’s where you see them: three orcs, hulking and green-skinned, gathered around a small fire, roasting what looks like a haunch of venison. They’re arguing in their guttural tongue.

You signal to Audrey, pointing to the leftmost orc. A classic pincer. She nods, her face pale but determined. You take a step forward, your boot sinking slightly into the soft earth.

There is no sound, no warning.

A circle of faint, silvery light erupts from the ground beneath your feet, spiraling out to engulf Audrey as well. It’s not hot or cold—it’s a blinding, consuming nothingness that swallows sight, sound, and thought.

Your last conscious sensation is Audrey’s gasp of surprise, cut short.

***

Consciousness returns like a punch to the gut.

You are looking out through your own eyes, but you are not in control. Your body is standing upright, your sword held loosely at your side. You try to lift your arm. Nothing happens. You try to shout. Your vocal cords are silent. A prisoner in your own skull.

What… what is this?!

“Uhhh…” The sound comes from your own throat, but the voice is rough, unpracticed. The orc in your body looks down at his—your—hands, turning them over. He flexes the fingers, then brings a hand up to feel the coarse beard on the face that is now his. A grin spreads, revealing your own white teeth. “Strong. Good.”

From beside you, a softer, melodic voice speaks, but the words are wrong. “Skin… soft.” It’s Audrey’s voice, but the cadence is broken, simple. You strain to look. The orc possessing Audrey’s body is running her—its—hands over the modest fabric of her robes, then sliding them underneath to cup the generous swell of her breasts. A moan of pure, base pleasure escapes her lips. “Good. Very good.”

Horror washes over you, cold and suffocating. You are a spectator to the defilement of your friend’s form. The orc in Audrey’s body pinches a nipple through the cloth, shuddering.

The orc in your body laughs, a harsh, barking sound. He reaches out and grabs the orc-in-Audrey by the front of her robes, pulling her close. “Mine first,” he grunts. “You… after.”

The orc-in-Audrey pouts with Audrey’s full lips. “Want now.”

“Trap works,” your-body says, looking around at the faintly glowing silver lines now fading on the cavern floor. “More bodies. Bring clan. Live in soft skin. Have fun.” His free hand—your hand—drops to grab roughly at the growing bulge in your trousers. A wave of nauseating wrongness floods you as you feel the touch, but cannot react. “This body… likes this.”

He looks at the orc-in-Audrey, his eyes roaming over her stolen curves with lust. “We learn. We take. We mate.” He leans in, pressing your bearded face against Audrey’s neck, inhaling deeply. The orc-in-Audrey giggles, a disturbingly sweet sound corrupted by the creature behind it.

You are screaming inside a prison of your own flesh, forced to watch, to feel the rising arousal in your own body that you did not ask for, as the orcs begin to explore their new, thrilling possessions.

Quick Actions:
1. Watch as the orc in your body begins to roughly grope and explore Audrey’s body right here in the dungeon.
2. Experience the disorienting journey as the orcs decide to leave the dungeon and return to the village, wearing your faces.
3. Listen in as the orcs discuss their plan to use the trap to bring more of their kin into the bodies of your waiting party members.