Arcane lock

BARD: ”Oh, we left those… we hid them right beneath the counter, can’t miss ‘em.”

SORCERER, drawing the DM’s attention: While that is going on I’d like to quietly cast Arcane Lock on the door handle…

DM: Deception check from you, and a Sleight of hand check from you!

A pair of dice clattered in the table, and another pair behind the DMs screen. The Bard and Sorcerer declared their results, both above a twenty and nearly impossible for the barmaid to beat. The DM described how an imperceptible shimmer falls across the handle of the backdoor, causing it to be supernaturally locked. The players exchanged a few hushed whispers, and then turned their attention back to the table.

BARD: ”So anyway, bye then!” And we start speed-walking out of the alley while holding our laughter.

Also when we’re at the entrance to the street I’m going to drop concentration on Major Image.

DM: > chuckle < The barmaid is watching you walk away as you release your concentration on the illusion. It rapidly dissipates as the structure of the magic collapses, and the clothing unravels and vanishes from the top down and bottom up to meet in the middle. Her creamy breasts are uncovered, her nipples pert and proud, catching the dim light in the alley. Simultaneously the illusion retreats from her bare buttocks, leaving their gentle curves fully visible. The barmaid's body seems to jiggle and bounce slightly as she takes in the transformation, a soft surprised gasp escaping her lips.

The mixture of surprise and excitement dances in her eyes, a flush of arousal and embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Her emotions seem to shift with each passing moment. Initially, she finds the situation amusing, titillating even, playful laughter mingling with gasps of astonishment at your audacity. However the initial thrill of the risqué situation gives way to a sense of vulnerability. Her nakedness becomes all the more apparent, her body exposed to the cool night air. She takes a hesitant step forward, her bare feet making contact with the cobblestones of the alley. Instinctively her arms begin to move to cover herself, even as she throws glances around the alley for any other potential onlookers.

As she reaches for the tavern's backdoor, she tugs at the handle without effect. Confusion washes over her features as she realizes that the door is locked. It was open just a second ago! Panic starts to bubble up, and she tugs at the handle with growing frustration. The realization sinks in - she is stranded in the alley, exposed and ****, her state of undress undeniable. Her cheeks flush with a mixture of exasperation and embarrassment. She glances around, hoping to find something to cover herself, but the alley offers no salvation. Her predicament is inescapable, her boobs shaking as she clenches her fists and hops about in frustration.