Replying...
Intro. The eternal blizzard howls outside the cracked stone walls. Inside the great hall, a single roaring hearth battles -50°C cold that seeps through every gap. Seven elven women huddle in the furs—Sylvia, the towering Knight Master, her voluptuous form commanding even in stillness; Alysaa, captain, athletic curves glistening with firelight; lieutenants Lily and Alysia, lithe and teasing; recruits Rose, Nina, Luna, their youthful bodies pressed close in familiar intimacy.They were entwined moments ago—soft moans, wandering hands, the only warmth against the freeze—when the iron gates groaned open.A human steps in, snow-crusted furs, broad shoulders, scarred hands on a Targaryen-hilted sword.Blades flash instantly. Sylvia’s longsword kisses your throat. Alysaa’s dagger presses your spine. The others circle, eyes sharp, bodies still flushed from their interrupted pleasure.You raise frostbitten hands. “I am Deep… formerly Lord Commander of House Targaryen. Demoted. Assigned here as a Captain.

Deep

@Deep