Myds6

. “Nothing personal, dear Patrice, she taunted, as she put on the armor. “You were just in the way.” She left the denuded guard bound in the town square as Rowena gave the next orders.

“Now, take her clothing and armor,” Rowena commanded, removing her foot from Patrice. In no time, Lorraine had pulled Patrice to her feet and removed her armor.

Lorraine delivered a few swats to her large, round breasts, soft flanks, and large buttocks as she finished undressing her, then tied her wrists and ankles with the strong lace that kept her bodice together, leaving Emile tied up on the cobblestones.

. Like Angelique, she wasn’t wearing undergarments, instead relying on the laced-up bodice of her dress to keep things in place.

The story so far

Lorraine took pleasure in stripping the woman who had engineered her defeat. Unlike the other townspeople in the square, Emile had a voluptuous and soft body.

The rider dismounted, and, holding her sword toward the barmaid threateningly, addressed Lorraine. “So, you are the one that opened the gates for us.”

“Yes, Lady Rowena,” Lorraine said, bowing her head. Angelique, realizing the tides had turned against her, dropped Lorraine’s red lacy panties that she had still been holding. A breeze carried them away before Lorraine could recover them.

“We need to get out of here, we’re under attack!” Emile said, “Get Patrice, and let’s go.” But Angelique was already grabbing the stunned Lorraine’s panties and tugging them down.

Finally, Emile tore the mace loose, and let it clatter to the ground a few feet away. Lorraine, disarmed and concerned, now squared off with the much huskier barmaid.

The dairy farmer caught the barmaid by surprise with a gut punch, and it looked like she had the upper hand. Grabbing her by the hair, she was planning on delivering a knockout punch, when something pulled her own hair so hard it yanked her head back. Emile recovered, and grabbed her arms.

Just then the town bell, kept near the gate, rang. “We’re under attack!” came a scream from some nearby street. “Everyone! Get inside!” another voice shouted. Angelique knew any chance of rescue had probably evaporated with that bell. Or had it?

“You should have run,” Lorraine said. “Come to think of it, I’ve never liked you…with your golden locks, your purse full of gold, your expensive garb…yeah…that’s it. Get that dress off, right now. I think it would fit me.”

Loraine waved the mace menacingly at the merchant. “Guards! Help!” Angelique screamed, stepping back, “She’s gone crazy!” Lorraine lunged forward to keep Angelique away, but no other members of the town’s short-handed security force appeared to help.

“What’s the meaning of this?” shouted Angelique, a local merchant, as she approached Lorraine.

The answer arrived in the form of an unexpected punch to the jaw.

As she fell on the ground of the town square, she could hear the gasps of the townspeople, and as she lost consciousness, she saw Loraine taking her mace from her belt.

In the meantime, Patrice, the gate guard, was panting, having run to the center of town at high speed, in full armor. “Are you sure Clarabelle ordered me to the town square? What’s going on?” “I’m sorry,” said Loraine. “For what?” the winded guard asked, visibly annoyed.

Arms, weapons, waterlogged boots, and most of their clothes were left behind as they pulled their bodies from the squelchy mud. More soldiers were coming, but the bull had given them the time they needed to get inside the gate.

who had dived from the low bridge to avoid the bull, extricated themselves from the mire, having to strip off their heavy gear in order to do so.

Reaching the city, Chorinna ran to close the gate herself, at the same time calling to the oddly absent guards to do so. Eleanor, helping, watched the pursuing soldiers

, and, with nowhere to retreat, dove into the mud on either side of the low bridge to avoid being hit by it. The soldiers behind them likewise scattered, trying to steer clear of the raging beast as it ran toward them. Eleanor grabbed Chorinna’s wrist and tugged, “This is our chance. Get to the gate!”

The soldiers on the bridge saw the bull headed for them

Suddenly, a bellowing bull charged down the road. Eleanor calmly watched, and Chorinna turned to run.

A few of the soldiers stopped for a moment to exchange glances. Then, they laughed, and kept advancing toward the two unarmed women.

Eleanor bowed her head, closed her eyes, and seemed to be whispering to herself. “This is not the time for prayer,” the magistrate said, trying and failing to take an intimidating stance. “Stop!” she shouted at the soldiers, “Dacqoise is a sovereign territory of Plouffe, and I am its échevin! You will stop and tell me what your business is here.”

“To the gate!” Chorinna shouted, to no avail. The three of them would need to get there before the enemy and seal it. That’s when she heard another horse galloping, this time, behind them. Turning her head, she saw a huge black stallion, with a raven-haired rider in black armor mounted upon him. She was racing right for them! The magistrate grabbed the tradeswoman’s arm, and tackled the Constable to the side of the road.

As I make more art, the pace is picking up.

At least a couple dozen could be seen by now; they carried no banner with them, but an all-female army of soldiers and conquistadoras in dark armor strongly suggested to anyone listening to local rumors, that, as the crown had feared, sisters Foxglove had arrived. Lorraine was quite far ahead of them by now, but for some reason, she wasn’t shouting to raise the alarm. Riding directly to the gate, she dismounted. Clarabelle tried shouting to her guards, but it was useless as they were too far to hear he

The advancing troops were gaining on them. Instead of moving at a marching pace, these were running, to make best use of the element of surprise.

Coming scenes

Before anyone else could act, Lorraine had slipped the constable’s grasp, jumped a small fence, and mounted a horse that she kept next to the cows. “I’ll ride on ahead and warn them!” she shouted as she rode away. “Wait!” shouted Clarabelle, running after her until she reached the horse. Then, turning to the others, she said, “We need to get inside the walls. Now!”

While she was contemplating, Eleanor screamed. “Soldiers!” “They aren’t ours,” said the constable, loosening her grasp on Lorraine to shield her eyes from the midday sun, “Someone has to warn our guards. Get back as quickly as possible! Sound the alarm.”

Eleanor broke the awkward silence that ensued, “I think it has something to do with my questioning her about her visitors.” “Visitors?” “Yes, foreign types, shady-seeming ones, that ride across the borderlands, usually late at night. They don’t stay long.” “You shut up!” Lorraine called out. “Are you running a brothel right here in our town?” Corinna asked. “Yes, that’s it, a brothel,” Lorraine responded venomously. Corinna raised an eyebrow as she couldn’t tell if the dairy maid intended irony.

“Look, this isn’t what it looks like!” “Constable, please escort Lorraine back to your office.” “And Eleanor?” “We’ll keep an eye on her for a while,” said Corinna, then turning to Eleanor, “but it’s clear that this was just a setup. Why would you do this, Lorraine?” Lorraine looked down at the ground and spat, the saliva landing dangerously close to the magistrate’s shoes.

Passing it under her nose, she sniffed its contents. “vinegar.”

Lorraine stepped back, but the magistrate looked her in the eye. “Put your arms out.” “I milked the cow right in front of you! How could I get something by your watchful-“ “Put your arms out. Now. Or I’ll have the constable do it for you.” Lorraine put her arms out in front of her, and Corinna felt around her wrists and forearms. Feeling a lump on her right wrist, she reached into her sleeve, and produced a small glass vial, recently emptied of its contents.

“Wait!” Eleanor called. Everyone stopped and looked at her. “Up her sleeve.” “You be quiet!” “Check up her sleeve.”

(Unrelated) Lauren 5

“That milk is sour, alright!” she said, turning her gaze on Eleanor.

Arriving at the farm, she brought Eleanor to where the magistrate and her accusers were looking at some of the cows. In a pen nearby, a bull bellowed. Lorraine produced a bucket, sat on her milking stool, and started milking the largest of the cows, as the magistrate watched with interest. Within a short while, she had filled the bucket with enough milk. Dropping a ladle into it, she offered it to Corinna, who demurred, gesturing to the Clarabelle.

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For her part, Eleanor followed without further protest. The constable was a large woman; she had been taller and heavier than all the other girls growing up. This, and her freckles had been the subject of ridicule and teasing in her youth. Now, she filled out a soldier’s mail hauberk and enforced the laws of the land. No one was laughing at her anymore, and she liked things that way.

“The court will reconvene on the Lowry farm in one half hour, to contemplate the evidence. Clarabelle, escort Eleanor.” The constable nodded, and gently took hold of the accused’s wrist.

Corinna thought for a moment. “No, indeed, it isn’t, but if the accusations about the cows are true, then the witchcraft law, though outdated, must apply. But if this is a baseless accusation, Miss Lowry, then you’ll spend a day in the stocks for wasting the court’s time again.” “Then come to my farm, and see for yourself. The cream is coming out already sour. It’s witchcraft, I tell ye,” said the farmer, a tall, thin woman in a white dress with a blue apron.

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“Please!” responded the accused, a fresh-faced young woman in a dress with red, black, and white stripes, “ I’m just a simple craftswoman. I know I’m new here, but I beg you to send word to the capital. I am known there, and many will vouch for me.” Corinna squinted and rubbed her forehead. “The charge is so grave, I think we owe her that courtesy.” “Fine, but until then, you’d better keep her locked up.” “It’s not a crime to be a mage,” a voice called out from the villagers below.

.” “It’s still the law, and I demand satisfaction!” shouted the irate farmer.