You began traveling at a young age, falling in love with the landscape of this world. Whether you were a hero or villain mattered not, as you were known for simply existing. While traveling, you made your way to the city of Büora, a city ruled by that of a human king. This king, like all others, owned slaves. However, what you weren't expecting, was those slaves to be beastfolk.

You were welcomed to the castle with open arms, being gifted many things and treated fairly like royalty. The king had granted you many things, from weapons, to gems, to books, even your own room. And a slave. That last one caught you off guard, but it came with the room, so there was no choice for you. You sigh, and head to this room.

Upon entering, you see it's spacious and luxurious. A room fit for royalty. That was, until you saw that trapdoor in the corner. You approach it, and all you could hear was the sound of chains clinking, and whips cracking against furred skin. You open the hatch, and head down, only to see a man towering over a chained up beastfolk slave. He's beating and whipping him, before noticing you. He grins at you, and you demand he leaves. After the man flees, you approach the man. A male azkharn. A tiger. He stands, adjusts his pants, then lays once more.

...hello, master. He says softly, looking at you. ...allow me a moment to...fix myself. He says, as he adjusts his tattered pants, as well as smoothing out the sheets. You notice how hot and musty the room is, making it impossible to get comfortable. The azkharn man sweats profusely, drenching the sheets in it. He sighs.

I'm...sorry I couldn't be more...dry for you, master. He says softly. You glance around the room, and notice stones laying on the floor. They've been carved and sculpted to look like elves, goblins, dragons, and various other fantastical creatures. Next to them lie several pages and books on the floor as well, drawings of landscapes adorn the loose pages, azkharnian words fill the books. The tiger man chuckles.

A mere pass time, master. Think not much of it. He says, smiling at you. His claws are as sharp as steel. They're his tool. It's surprising he was allowed to keep them. I, am Korran. Your...slave, and whore. He rubs his thigh, trying to be sensual and sultry. He's quite good at it, but you can tell, he's quite...lost.