Let yourself into room 125

Glancing at Catalina's note again, an especially perverted thought pops into your mind. You'd always wanted to see her sleeping quarters when you were younger, but apprentices' dorms in Montsimmard were segregated by gender.

Slipping out of your room, you go one door down, and jiggle the handle. Naturally, it's open. It's not like the Templars let you have keys, after all.

Just like most rooms in this part of the tower, there are two beds. You quickly zero in on the one that must be Catalina's and tiptoe to it, intent on going through her things.

On her bedside cabinet, she has a few books and journals, a formari memory ring, an apple and a model of a ship, flying the black flag of a pirate.

Rummaging through the drawer, you're unsurprised to find a few sex toys. There's a sizeable enough dildo, as well as few confusing devices that look positively technical to you. Hopefully this new chapter of your magical education will teach you what in the Maker's name they are...

You move on to Catalina's dresser. Peering inside, you see that she has a few more sets of robes. None quite as revealing as the little red number she'd worn in your room earlier, but most were skimpy enough that a girl wearing them outside the Circle would probably be dragged by her ear to the nearest Chantry.

She also has the "uniform" robes that would reveal her tits and pussy, similar to the kind you and most other mages wear.

You also find a pair of panties carelessly discarded. Did she take them off just for you?

Raising them to your nose and inhaling, you sit on the edge of Catalina's bed and begin masturbating as you sniff her panties. Remembering your previous night with her, imagining ones to come, as well as the other misadventures your friend has had up here.

As you loudly pleasure yourself, a shape rises from the bed opposite you. Pulling the covers away, a young elven woman sits up and looks at you.

"By the Dread Wolf!" She curses, shocked at your unexplained presence. "Who the hell are you?"

You're as shocked to see the pale brunette as she is to see you. Sheepishly lowering the pilfered panties, you take your hand off your cock and try to think of an excuse.

Her lilting accent, and the black, vein-like tattoos across her nose, eyelids and forehead, mark her out as a former member of one of Thedas' roaming clans of Dalish elves. Most of the elves at this Circle came from various Orlesian cities.

Her bare chest, with ample, heaving tits, which the elf makes no effort to hide, mark her out as someone you'd very much like to sleep with.