Mszczuj lower his bow, showing he have no bad intention to the. "God bless to you females. We are men of sir Bolesław, knight in service of Duke Siemowit. Could you tell me what happen here? I see you just fighting with some knights order." He steped closer to females, showing mark on his sheeve with Boleslaw shield paint
@Tjf Allune eases up as the men lowered their weapons, though she didn't know which noble he was talking about. "Yes, to you as well." She greeted, "As for what happened here. The village was attacked by black knights, with a red cross sigil. And... believe or not, a faceless man. Who survived getting his throat pierced by an arrow."
Exhausted, he sleeps later than normal, waking to see sunlight pouring through the window, the inquisitor still asleep in his arms.
Ilya hugs Larisa tightly. "If you have any more trouble with them, tell me, okay sis?" Olga nods. "They won't pick on us if we're together, I think."
Mszczuj pull down his mustache and bite end of them, thinking. " Yes, we saw them too. I never seen in my life such evil face. But you said he get arrow in throat and nothing? Maybe holly water would help... Or silver steel. " He look around the villiage. "Do you need help? We have medic in our camp, not far away."
She was a little surprised at the gesture. They weren’t a particularly touchy family, but she accepted it anyway and brought her arms around his to return it before breaking loose, the smile on her face looking unusually mischievous. It might have been surprising due to the fact she was naturally assumed to be the most mature and responsible, and while that was still true, Larisa would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the childishness of the situation, never really having had a proper chance to ever act even a little recklessly or irresponsible before. “Let’s not pick fights needlessly...but there is one more thing I can do just to really top things off...I need to find what room is hers, however.”
Allune looked at the mustached man nibble on his facial hair, "Silver? Will that really work against them?" She asked, thinking, making silver arrowheads would be expensive. But, as long as there weren't any tricks to it, she was sure any flether would he able to do it. "As for the medic, I'd appreciate it if you sent him here. Maybe... erm... you can even move your camp here? I'm sure it's safer against those... things."
"You might end up regretting that...but fine. I'll just hang back and see where this leads." Larisa took a step back, hugging close to a wall to stay out of sight, wondering if her brother would actually managing accomplishing his own goals. As much as she loved him, she was pretty used to expecting him to fumble whenever he was expected to do something. He wasn't incapable. He just functioned much better when let to his own devices. The blonde woman was hardly friendly to begin with...but Ilya actually seemed pretty sure this would work out anyway. "I'll just loiter about near my room rather than trying to shadow you. Either try getting ahead of her and telling her you're trying to make sure things are clear so I can get access to her room ahead of time, or leave the door open while she's asleep." Leaving the rooftop area, she had to wonder how this conversation would go, but Larisa walked past a few servants as if heading to her room to turn in for the night, only to leave her door slightly ajar open so she could just stay back and observe whoever passed by without needing to stand right out in the hall.
After a few minutes, Ilya appears outside her door. "They're both asleep, drunk as hell. Kind of adorable, actually." He gives her directions. "I left the door just a tiny bit ajar for you."
"You did good." Giving a congratulatory pat on the arm to her brother, she stepped out of her room to cautiously make her way into the inquisitor's room. The guy wasn't as bad and Larisa couldn't really think of much of a real reason to do anything to him. Even the woman in question...while definitely unpleasant, Larisa didn't really want to specifically hurt her in anyway just over a few obnoxious comments. She had the kind of magic and means that she could probably discreetly off the inquisitor without it ever getting traced back to her if she wanted to, but all of her "dark witch" actions could be summarized as more of looking to annoy the inquisition rather than actually harm them. As she made her way in, trying to suppress the reeking scent of alcohol, Larisa did have to wonder if this was taking things too far....alternately, she wondered if this wasn't what her own religion was based on. Slights against others were to be returned with a vengeance. If anything, instilling karmic retribution was her being a loyal follower to her own ways. But it did make Larisa question if her own actions shouldn't have some consequence. In her head, she made her up her mind that unless giving an actual reason to take things further, this would be the last time she'd ever do it. Arguably justified or not, this was definitely abusing her magic. Yet, knowing that didn't change the fact that it just seemed all way too satisfying to just let things slip past. The opportunity was there, so she was going to take it. It was a rather simple thing. All Larisa did was just find the woman's clothes prepared for tomorrow. Strewn about in a fashion that didn't impress her to the inquisition's organization habits, but close enough to Ilya's own that she understood how they had things laid out. Finding the woman's civilian outfit for tomorrow, all Larisa had to do was one stupidly simple trick. While most complex illusions were beyond her grasp, creating the illusion of a dress wasn't actually too difficult. At least, just leaving it in sight would be easy. Making one that was wearable was a different matter. The size, use and detail to make it feel real enough like actual fabric, meant that while stable enough for a good period of time, it wasn't going to last for exceptionally long. Measuring the rough amount of time if she had to guess...the woman would wake up and put on her "clothes" only for the illusion to decide it was done working at the worst possible time. Which was how she meant things to happen. Letting the conjuration come to life, she exchanged her magically created fake fabric with the real ones, taking great care to swap it and leave it in the exact same place as she silently made her out the room. Obviously, she couldn't just hold onto the real clothes or have it stashed into her room, so she handed it off to Ilya, looking almost a little too proud of herself. "Go leave this with the things for the maids to clean in the morning. There's no reason to ruin a perfectly good dress...and I think after this little prank, we should just leave things alone. Deserved or not, there's a point where things go from funny to just being mean. Unless they do something to deserve it, let's just leave them to their business...though I still somewhat expect that before the day is out tomorrow, she's going to do something to deserve it anyway."
Angelo woke and rubbed his eyes, yawning. He looked down at Marguerite sleeping at his side with a smile, and got a mischievous idea. He carefully slipped out from under her and crawled down lower on the bed. The blonde young man gently spread her legs to reveal his prize. Slowly and lovingly, he started to kiss and tongue the brunette's pussy until she woke up.
He smiles and nods. "All right, we'll leave them alone. Night, sis." He looks uncertain, and before she leaves, he opens his mouth again. "Hey, Larisa. I know I messed up on the road. It was stupid of me to leave Olga alone to have sex with a succubus. If something had happened to her..." He's silent for a moment, before putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll never put either of you in danger again. Bastard or not, you're my sister."
Marguerite begins to stir, moaning a little in her sleep, before her eyes open. She blinks a bit, before her lips reach upwards in a grin. "Hungry this morning, are we?"
“Stupid...well, yes. It was. There’s no sugar coating it. What matters is if you learn anything from it.” Not really made to be comforting or knowing what to do , Larisa gave him a reassuring hug for a few seconds before breaking away. “Idiot or not, you’re still my brother. That’s not going to change.” That being the closest Larisa could think of to being supportive, she gave him a quick nod as she began to close the door to her room to call it a night. “Finish up and get some sleep. We’ll figure out how to find a decent place to properly practice tomorrow.”
He nods. "Night." Larisa finds her way to her bed with no further disruptions. She sleeps for a relatively long time, the sun high in the sky when she wakes. There's a knock on her door, Miroslava's voice coming from without. "Larisa? Are you up yet?"
'I thought I'd have breakfast in bed,' Angelo chuckled, and continued to eat her pussy. His tongue explored every nook and cranny of her lips, before it sunk into her, his hand caressing her thighs.
After their shared orgasm Ophalia remained on top of the maid, unmoving, panting heavily, fingers still inside her lover, as she slowly caught her breath. Finally, after several minutes, she had recovered enough to move. Slowly she removed her digits from Felina's holes and turned around until she was face-to-face with the maid. “That was... incredible. Thank you.” The noblewoman managed to say and placed a light kiss on the girl's lips, then moved the fingers that had been in Felina's ass and pressed them against the maid's mouth, expecting the girl to lick them clean. At the same time Ophelia brought her other fingers, that had been in Felina's snatch, to her own mouth and began sucking them clean.
The inquisitor moans softly. "Bon apetit." She grows wet quickly, the strangely sweet taste on his tongue.
