Taken to the street, Mirellia sees a prison wagon waiting for her, before a bag is put over her head and she can see nothing more. Shoved into the wagon, she's shackled up and taken through the city. After what seems like a while, the milf is taken from the wagon and pulled into a building of some sort, head still bagged. Taken upstairs, she's shoved into a chair and shackled to it. The bag is pulled from her head, and Mirella sees that she's in an elegant office, a scarred man looking at her. "And who might you be?" He takes a sip of wine.
Keeping calm despite being captured, Mirellia could only hope that they do something stupid, so that she could get a chance to escape. And once they arrived at their destination, she could only guess where she was taken as she's forced to sit on a chair, and shackled once more. Once the bag was off of her head, she blinks a few times for her eyes to get used to the light. "Hmph. Shouldn't you be introducing yourself first?" She replied in a curt tone.
"Pretty haughty for someone tied to a chair, eh?" He chuckles, standing. He picks something up from out of her view, and holds it up so Mirellia can see that it's Gwyhyr. "With that attitude, and a fine sword like this, you must be some sort of noble, I'm guessing?" He holds the sword out, until the blade touches her neck. "To answer your question, my name is Caleb Menge, leader of this group of witch hunters."
Seeing her family heirloom at the hands of some thug, Mirellia couldn't help but growl. "Khh." She growled, glaring at him as he introduces himself. "Mirellia... Feldonna." She does the same, albeit still in a curt tone.
"Feldonna..." He mumbles. "Never heard of you, but don't worry, we'll find out all about you and that son of yours soon enough." Menge gives an ugly grin. "You have two choices." He smirks. "You can be obedient, and get rewarded, or you can be rebellious, and get punished. What's it gonna be, my lady?" He adds the title mockingly.
Hearing him mention her son, Mirellia's eyes widen. "What!?" She growled, trying to break free of her shackles, "Leave my son out of this." She hissed, glaring at him to let him know there'll be hell to pay if Ashton gets hurt.
Trista kick dwarf to wake up, but she keept her sword low. "So better to keep it on short leash mage or it could get hurt." She said with warming in voice. "Uncommon view, mage with kikimore. I would say it is suspicious."
“Well, you should have joined me – we could have watched them together... though I guess you did join me, even if you did not stay long...” Varrin chuckled, then barely managed to stop himself from letting out a moan as Isabella started lumping his cock. “Talk about bad timing!” The Varrin groaned as the unknown man entered the clearing. “You think that's our stalker, or at least related to them?” Despite how horny his sister had gotten him, he still had enough presence of mind to think.
'Hmmm, is that the village they were talking about? Does not look like it was us, too much fire and too little snow and ice,' Ard said, 'A trading town might know where this island is, right?'
"So, you've chosen to be rebellious?" He grins. "Good." The witch hunter gives her a sadistic grin, and raises Gwyhyr. With a few swift strikes, he slashes the straps holding up her breastplate, the metal clattering to the floor. He ogles her and grins, reaching out to grope her breasts through her gambeson. "I have no interest in your son. For now. Hopefully you can keep it that way."
The mage chuckles. "How charming. I have no doubt that a skilled Witcher like yourself could kill my pet, but you wouldn't long outlive her, Trista." He smirks as he uses her name. Isabella releases his cock as the danger is revealed, slowly beginning to get up. "He's powerful," she gives a foreboding warning. "I'd say there's a good chance that he's the stalker."
"Nnh!" Groaning as she's slashed at by her own weapon, Mirellia's eyes widen as she hears her breastplate clatter at the floor. "Khh." She then stifles a moan, blushing as the witch hunter starts groping her. "And what proof do I have that he's still alive?" She asked, giving him a glare despite her flushed cheeks.
"I think so, yeah." Abigail nods. "As for the town, it probably gets a lot of traffic from the small villages. Maybe we'll find a worshiper in the market?"
There's a rasp as Menge draws a knife, cutting open the front of Mirellia's gambeson. "Ha!" He laughs as he sees her choice of bra. "I see my men brought me a wild one." He idly plays with her nipples, putting off answering her question. Finally, he pulls away. "I give you no guarantee, because I don't have any idea what happened to your son after you were taken. My men left him on the rooftop. He should be fine, but I don't know for certain." He turns back, holding a lit candle. Menge begins to pour hot wax onto her breasts, the heat stinging her without doing any real damage, and sending feelings of pleasure to her brain. "All I can say to reassure you is that I'm a practical man. If I had your son, I wouldn't kill him. I'd hold him hostage to ensure your obedience. Since he's not here, you can be confident that neither my men, nor I, have done anything to him."
Heading to the town, he sees a vibrant marketplace, with well dressed people who Are judges to be the town's citizens, and more shabbily dressed folk that he assumes are from outlying villages. The whole town is abuzz with trade and rumour mongering.
Letting out a relieved sigh as her son wasn't here, she could only hope her allies managed to get him, or that he's regained consciousness before anyone else tried to attack him. But, her relief was short lived, as she heard the sound of her gambeson being torn open. "Nnh!" Mirellia's blush deepens, her sensitive nipples betraying her as they grow erect from his touch. Worse yet, she shuddered as he grabbed a candle, "N-no, no, aahn!" The sexy milf tried to protest, but as soon as the hot wax hit her skin, she couldn't help but moan. Her juices gushed out of her pussy, soaking through the fabric of her flimsy panties.
Ard dismounted his horse and helped Abigail down, moving towards a stand, he asked the person behind it, 'Greetings, do you know if there are any worshippers of the Lady of the Lake around town?'
“If he has been stalking us and observing us, then he is likely prepared. It will be difficult to fight him, if it comes to it.” Varrin concluded. “Hopefully he's not here to pick a fight...” The young man ignored his arousal and his hard cock, focusing on making himself presentable so that he would be ready to help his sister if necessary.
Seeing her reaction, Mirellia's captor's grin widens. "Look at that! She's already a slut." He continues to hold the candle above her chest, the hot liquid dripping down over her nipples. Putting away the candle for a moment, the man redraws his knife, pulling away the plate over her crotch and cutting open the gambeson, exposing her slutty panties. "Nice. I see nobles certainly know how to dress." He makes a show of breathing in, letting her know that he's aware of how wet she is. "You know, I was going to torture you for information, but seeing you now, I think it'd only bring your perverted mind pleasure."
