“Good night, sleep well.” Varrin tucked his cock back in his pants, looked at himself to make sure he looked presentable, then left his mother's room and headed to his own, to get some rest. Out of habit on the way back he stayed alert for anything or anyone of interest, even though he did not expect anyone to be up at this time of night.
Caster's hands grip tightly around her thighs, as he greedily sucks and bites at her breasts. It isn't long before the milf feels herself orgasm once again, quickly followed by the feeling of her womb being flooded by her lover's warm cum. Afterwards, twitching from the strength of her orgasm, Mirellia falls off of Caster's lap, landing roughly on the stable floor, cum dripping from her cunt.
Gustav gives a chuckle, as Bogrid beats his chest enthusiastically, clearly preferring open battle to stealth. Charging through the forest, she crosses the distance between the ridge she was on, and the ruins, in a matter of seconds. One bandit manages to loose a crossbow bolt that bounces harmlessly off the witcher's shield, as Trista comes face to face with one of the sentries.
Danielle's visitors are frequent, most of them being polite and friendly, though some of them are distant or openly disrespectful towards the outsider. Afterwards, she sees Francois by the bar, having a drink. "Looking for good customers, madame?" He offers her a glass of vodka.
Trista doesn't care for young age of bandit, she just cut open his neck, not leting him fight back. Before he fall down, she rush to the camp, to killed as many bandits, as she can before they managed to rip of the shock and suprise.
Sophia rolls her eyes. "Very well. Let Cleaver deal with that part of the plan. Just make sure he doesn't learn anything he doesn't need to."
In the darkness of the hallway, Varrin is able to avoid detection, and stumble into his own bed. He awakens the next morning to the feeling of Madeline's foot nudging his thigh, dangerously close to his cock. Opening his eyes, he sees his sister in the same state of undress she was in when she woke him yesterday. "Rise and shine, little brother. Issie's back."
The leader of the hunt shrugs, and Matthias slides off of his shoulder onto the ground. "Await our call." The ghostly voice booms once more, before the spectral riders mount their horses once again. The frost begins to dissipate, as the horsemen ride away from the island, the hooves of their mounts galloping across the water of the swamp as easily as the land, before they disappear.
Heading into the ruins, she sees Bogrid cut the legs off another sentry, while Ignazy puts his axe through the chest of the last one. Before the man Trista killed has fallen to the ground, she's entered the ruin complex, a large stone circle, that used to be an aen seidhe building. At the center of the circle is a pyre, surrounded by bandits. As planned, the men are caught by surprise, scrambling for her weapons. Heading forwards, Trista puts herself within range of a shirtless fat man wielding a hatchet, chest covered in tattoos, and an elderly man in a coat of mail covered by a tabard with the unicorn sigil of Kaedwen's king, who holds a mace.
"In the stable. From what I hear, we're going off on some sort of dangerous expedition into the wilds, so you should probably wear something that protects more than your modesty." She grins, breasts jiggling in the tight undergarment as she stands. "Have a good night? I hope my little distraction at the theatre didn't leave you too worked up." There doesn't seem to be any implication in her tone, other than some light teasing.
Trista feels her body grow warm, as a bust of fire erupts from her hand, and the fat man reels back in pain. It seems his comrade, however, is not a bad fighter, the elderly man weaving his head away from the sword and ducking down, swinging his mace at the witcher's knees. As the old man attacks, however, Trista sees a blur at her side, as a dark haired woman in black leather darts in behind her with impressive swiftness, a dagger in her hand.
She finds her father in law in a well adorned sitting room, looking over some financial documents. Smiling at her, he brushes aside the papers to give her his attention. "Ah, my dear! We lost track of you. Ashton's been searching all over the building!" He laughs. "I told him he needn't worry, but you know what youths are like. They all think their elders are helpless damsels who can't do a thing alone." The old man listens to Mirellia's question. "Ah, I own some houses here in Novigrad. We'll be staying in one. It's not as nice as my home in Tretogor, but it shall suffice."
“I slept well.” Thanks to spending time with mother last night. “I hope you had a pleasant night as well, Maddie. Could you tell Issie I'll be there shortly? I'll just grab something to eat from the kitchen and put on something more protective.” A suit of brigandine armor should do – good protection without limiting my mobility too much.