Caught in the Act

Life was cruel and unfair, Fredrik Farley grumbled to himself as he closed up for the night. For years, he and his wife Verina had tried to run an upstanding business and kept out of trouble. Taking care never to upset one patron or another and ensuring that no matter what, there were always clean beds and fresh ale for weary travellers.

All of that changed when that sleazy little mage had sauntered into town. Maximillion Crowe. Fred had hated that man since he set eyes upon him, the way he leered at his wife Verina and their daughter Anna, along with every other woman in Goldshire. He was certain he was up to no god and had tried going to the guards, only to be rebuffed with empty platitudes and assurances that they'd 'look into it'.

Well now, Fred had all the proof he needed and could do nothing with it. He'd caught Max one evening sneaking into the cellar of the inn with a group of hooded strangers, and witnessed their profane rituals. Fred knew little about magic, but he could recognize a warlock when he saw one. All Max's talk of demons and power and other such bullshit would've been his undoing. If not for that damned wooden step.

Verina had been pestering him to get it fixed for months, and each time he'd waved her off dismissively. Excuses ranging from 'too expensive' to 'not that much of a bother', now however he cursed his indolence. One creak was enough to draw the warlock's attention that they'd been seen and that had sealed it.

Fredrik found himself the unwilling host of a coven of warlocks meeting in his cellar, and not a damn thing he could do about it. Not if he wanted to keep his wife and daughter safe.

They'd gone missing shortly after he'd been caught eavesdropping, and Max had informed him without a hint of subtlety of their fate should he notify the guards. 'Spending some time in Stormwind to look after her sick mother' was the excuse he gave whenever asked, knowing full well that Verina's mother had died years ago.

Fred's shoulders slumped as he thought of them, trying not to think what fate that mad warlock had in store for them. With a heavy sigh, he locked the doors of the inn for the night, thankful they had not guests at the moment and turned towards the stairs.

That's when he heard it, a loud thump, coming from upstairs. Followed soon by another and another and, were those voices? Cursing, Fredrick grabbed a lantern and hurried up the stairs. He knew they didn't have guests, no-one had paid for a room in weeks, so whoever was upstairs certainly had no business being there at this hour.

The noises grew louder and more rhythmic as he approached the room, and he could definitely hear voices. Feminine voices, seemingly gasping and moaning. Fred's face flushed as he recognized the sounds, “damned teenagers...” he grumbled as he reached the door. “Alright, you've had your fun.” He cried out, throwing open the door. “Now get the fu-” He stopped, mid sentence at the sight before him.

On the bed against the far wall a woman knelt on all fours, naked and covered in a sheen of sweat. Behind her knelt a large muscular man with black hair, his hands on the woman's shapely hips. She was gorgeous, with long auburn hair and a figure to die for, heavy breasts pressed into the bed covers. But that wasn't what made Fred stop mid sentence and drop his lantern. It was her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes. He'd recognize them anywhere.

“V-verina?” He croaked.