Everyone having sex in this story is over 18.
Some people will likely realize the source material for this story. Please don't post spoilers. The source material was strange and vague and often written by their enemies.
What I always loved was how they mixed bat crap insane with everyday life.
As an example of their writing style: 'By the grace of god and in the name of the virgin we wrote a peace treaty with our enemies. Then our ghost ancestors showed up and prophesize a plague of rats if we signed the treaty. "Go home, ghost ancestors, your drunk." we said and they were so they did. Then my father turned into a bear and ate a villager. We all watched and drank the eaten man's beer as my bear-father fucked my nun sister in the meadow high atop a stone altar to the old gods. That's how the queen of the Danes was conceived and why we took revenge on the Geats.' ~ A short history of how the Frisians gained freedom from Utrecht by Adolf the naked.
What you will read in the average high school text book: 'The events leading to the signing of the historic peace treaty are shrouded in myth.'
Anyway, I will continuing writing this story in modern English and try to keep the kenning to a bare minimum. In the example above even something like Beowulf's name would translate into "bee-wolf" or bear using the kenning of the era.
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'Ugh! Men. Nothing in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death, taxes, and men being sleazy.' the creepy old pervert wrote as he stood naked, pleasuring himself with his other hand. Sweat rolled down his fat hairy body before dripping off him, mixing with the greasy rancid remains of past meals left to rot on the cave's floor.
"I had a Halfling's entire hand up my cunt....past the wrist. I could feel him wiggle his gross little fingers inside me. Why did you leave that part out?" I asked. It had been a few hours since the sleazy old man had saved me from the Orcs only to take me back to his gross old man cave where he immediately demanded I tell him everything that had happened to me. Furiously masturbating as he wrote it all down, he had deliberately made strange grammar errors. He had even used his own penis to write parts of it, deliberately misspelling words each time he did so.
"I left it out so no one would know how stretched out you are. No one wants to read about loose pussy and I want everyone to read your story." He hissed.
"Then why make so many grammar and spelling mistakes?" I asked, confused by his unhinged behavior.
"Because story immersion, that why. Each grammar error will rip them out of the story of your non-consensual experience at the hands of those Orcs. They'll remember the errors more than they remember the story. Then I'll send a follow up letter explaining what I did and why." the creepy pervert laughed, his yellow rotting teeth visible as his lips pulled back in a sneer.
A shiver ran up my spine as the mental image of his hairy greasy penis misspelling word after word entered my mind and forever scarred my soul. "That's so disgusting and insane. Why would you do that?" I asked as I put my hands over my eyes and stomped my feet. I shook my head back and forth as hard as I could, trying to remove the disgusting image of his penis writing those misspelled words.
"They wanted a non-consent story, then that's what they'll get. They get to experience their own non-consensual experience first hand as they realize that every misspelled word was written by a sleazy pervert's penis!" the crazy old man laughed. "Then every time they see a misspelled word for weeks after, they'll remember my hairy misshapen man doodle. They didn't ask for pervert dick anymore than you asked for Halfling hand but everyone gets what they get."
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" I asked, hoping the question would not drive him deeper into madness.
"Everyone must suffer as I have suffered, endure as I have had to endure, that was purpose my purpose. Or maybe I'll write 'that was my porpoise'. Either way the grammar and spelling errors will drive everyone insane." He laughed, a look of madness in his eyes. "But first I think I'll take my payment for saving you from those Orcs, do you want to do this on your back or knees? I'd prefer your knees given how loos...UGH." He collapsed face first against the hard rock floor of the cave, a crossbow bolt buried in the back of his skull.
"You jackass, we might have needed him alive." I heard a voice curse from the darkness of the far end of the cave. I gasped, it was an Orc or halfling voice, the thick accent different from any local accents.
"He had a flying carpet, he could've had other wizard tricks. Better to face a dead mage than an angry mage." Someone called back.
"Naked woman. We have food and drink. Please don't run away, please run toward us RIGHT NOW if you want to live. You need to get away from those rocks, you're in great danger." I jumped as I recognized the voice as that of the Orc that had captured me hours before. "They've block your escape with their nets."
"And deadly traps." another voice hissed from the other end of the cave. It was no Orc, no strange accent, the voice that slithered into my ears with a chill sounded old, tired. A whisper from beyond the grave.