Round 35

Jeane Cromwell ascended slowly into the sanctuary space—a vast chamber of dust and shadow now broken by morning light streaming through stained glass high above. Her crimson eyes scanned the darkness carefully, demonic senses already alert for movement or threat. The binding spell's threads shimmered faint along ceiling joists—silence ensured for now, but magic had limits when tested by panic or defiance. Two civilians upstairs. Awake earlier than expected. Post-coital evidence everywhere.

Silra descended back down the stairs, her blade held low against her thigh where morning light wouldn't catch it. Every creak of the ancient wood felt like an alarm bell—two civilians stirring above, their post-coital disarray painting a clear story that could send them all to prison. The elf's pointed ears twitched as she listened for more movement upstairs. Her teal eyes tracked every shift of light across the women's skin, cataloging details that could be useful later… or incriminating.

Both women stood frozen in tense silence, hearts pounding, waiting to see if the civilians would alert others.