The moon shone high and full above the cloudless night sky. It was around midnight when the Wood Elf, Princess Amyla, looked over the Secret City (named so because of the magic which made it impossible for any human to find its whereabouts on their own). She was a beautiful specimen; roughly 5″3 the 200-year-old princess didn’t look a day over 20. This evening she wore a long white silk night gown. One which showed off her wide hips and thick thighs. It was tied together by a thin string under her heavy breasts which caused them to press up against each other, producing a heavy cleavage.
She was out on her private quarters’ balcony. On the west wing of the white marble castle which overlooked the spotless bright city which, similarly to the ornate and gargantuan palace, was built using the Elven carpentry stone of choice: Pure White Marble. The Princess’ eyes were locked on the alter. This was going to be where the ritual took place. It was clear that the alter was well built, a large gazebo-like structure made of the same stone as the rest of the city. On the alter was a large bed, hexagonal in shape draped with white cloth and silk pillows. Once she moved her big emerald eyes across the bed her heart beat quickened.