Round 1

Jeane leans against a cold stone pew in the abandoned church, her exhaustion evident as she surveys the empty nave bathed in moonlight. This place offers isolation—precisely what the party needs after their recent... activities drained everyone's stamina. But the sorceress knows better than to let her companions suffer mere discomfort when she can provide so much more. She runs a hand along the altar, imagining its surface repurposed for very different rituals.* First things first—supplies and protection must be secured before any real recovery can begin. That barmaid Julia mentioned something about a...

Silra slumps against the wall opposite Jeane, her usual grace tempered by fatigue. The quest feels increasingly explicit in nature—a scavenger hunt with sexual objectives rather than heroic ones. But at least it's interesting enough to hold her attention away from the moral discomfort gnawing at her thoughts. The elf's fingers twitch, already calculating potential risks and opportunities. Julia could prove useful for intel... maybe even recruitment if she's as curious as she seems. Clarice nearby might be worth investigating too—another variable in this increasingly complex equation.

Halie enters the church more slowly than the others, her footsteps hesitant as she takes in the oppressive silence of the abandoned space. The weight of what they're about to do presses down on her conscience like a physical force. The cleric's fingers tighten around her cross necklace—a familiar anchor against the rising tide of temptation and fear. This quest feels wrong on every level, yet something deeper pulls at her—something that craves this secret sisterhood away from male judgment.

Hera steps forward into the gloom, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the assembled group. What do we have here? Looks like someone is trying to bring the Cromwell Cult into town. *Her voice carries a note of challenge rather than fear—a woman used to assessing threats and weighing options carefully.**

Abby stands rigid before the altar, her wide brown eyes fixed on Jeane with an expression that mixes terror and anticipation. The thought of what awaits them beyond these walls sends a thrill through her petite frame despite the lingering soreness from their previous exertions. She has been promised more... and her body hums with readiness even as her mind quails at the unknown demands about to be made.

The church's silence stretches between them, heavy with unspoken plans and barely contained desires. The stage is set for whatever depravities these women have in mind—all that remains is to see who will break first under the strain of their shared corruption.*