An elderly man in an expensive doublet answers. "I should think so. The swampers believe in all sorts of crackpot religions. Anders!" He calls out to one of the 'swampers', a man in mud covered clothes with short brown hair. Anders approaches. "You follow the lady, don't you?" Anders nods. "Aye, I do. Why, you interested in the good word?" The merchant simply laughs in response, and points Anders to Ard and Abigail.
"Oh, so you are one of these guys right?" Trista made relaxed pose, but she have no doubts. That mage come here prepared and fighting with him would be realy dangrous.
Varrin feels a soothing sensation course through his body, lowering his arousal to a manageable level, probably due to the way Isabella is waving her arm around.
"My name is Ernest De Cavolla, apprentice to the sorcerer Vortigern." He smiles. "The woman you butchered in that in worked for me."
"She speaks defiance, but moans every time I touch her." Menge walks to his desk, pulling out a pair of clamps. "She claims to be a lady, but wears the undergarments of a whore." He attaches the clamps to her nipples, the pieces of metal squeezing down hard.
“I get the feeling this guy is just playing with us...” Varrin mumbled loud enough for his sister to hear as he gazed at the unknown mage. For now he chose to watch and wait.
“A sorceress' apprentice?” Varrin gave his sister a questioning look, waiting to see if she was familiar with the names.
"I see." Anders nods. "Well, I can take you to her island. No guarantee that she'll be willing to see you. You might stand about for hours for nothing. The only problem is that there's a monster in the water. You willing to fight to get to the Lady?"
Isabella nods. "I don't know this man, but I've heard of Vortigern. He's one of the greatest sorcerers of all the North. No idea if he's actually an apprentice though, or just using the name for clout."
The mage smiles. "I can't say you're wrong. I cared nothing for the innkeeper besides the money she was giving me, so revenge is pointless. Instead, I'll make use of your skills."
The mage points to Varrin and Isabella. "You're looking for something, am I right?" He fishes into his pocket, holding up a jet black sphere of smooth rock. "It looks exactly like this. In exchange for telling you what to look for, I simply want you to replace the real thing with this imitation." He tosses the sphere to Barron. "You can keep the real sphere. I'm just interested in you putting the fake in it's place."
Menge laps up her juices greedily as she squirts before standing, reaching up and pulling at her nipple clamps for leverage to propel him up to his feet. "You've been fantasising about this situation, haven't you? To be trapped with no way out." He unlaces his trousers to reveal a short but incredibly thick cock about the width of her wrist. He quickly grows erect, dick pressing against her upper lip, with his musky scent rising up into her nostrils. "Get to work."
"A few days." He nods. "We're not sure what it is. It stays in the water and pulls people from their boats, but it's bigger than a drowner." He frowns. "A worshipper was dragged out of his boat, and then two warriors who went hunting for the creature. A few people watched from the shore, but they didn't get a good look because there was fog that day.