Head to Missionaire and meet the counselor

The cart ride to Missionaire hadn't gotten any shorter since you first head out to the saintess camp on the outskirts of the war-zone. Even traveling light as you were, the trip would take an hour past sun-down. At least you had good company compared to your first trip out-- and a good view, at that. The saintesses were all dressed up for the party and this was a good chance to get a look at them before it became too dark to take in the fine details. The fashion of the night parade asked citizens to dress themselves as monsters and your saintesses had complied-- the irony of Geod's chosen wearing the garb of the devil's soldiers was rich.{if Helmid = True}

The paladin at your side had been just as eager to show you her costume as she was to see you in yours, her noble composure failing her in the naked anticipation evident by her broad smile. Her expression begged you to say your piece on her bold choice of wardrobe. Helmid's tasteful armor and surcoat were missing in action, replaced by a much less modest brown fur ensemble in the style of a minotaur. Her eye-popping breasts were contained in a band bra, secured at the center of the chest with a large, brass ring. The lower body was only slightly more modest, with a mini-skirt of brown, furred fronds, showing off her long legs and toned abdomen. She certainly didn't look her age. Other accessories included bracers, sandals, and a cow-eared hairband. With all of this, the piece that changed her entire look the most thoroughly was a fake brass nose ring.

Nobody would think she was a paladin, a noble woman, or certainly not a saintess in this get-up. "Hm hm hm. Let's grab the bull by the horns, shall we?" she joked, wearing a cheerful smile as she crossed her legs in a lady-like manner that didn't match her wardrobe. It was hard to tell if she was just attempting to raise your spirits or if that was innuendo on her part. "By the by, you don't mind if I have other partners for the night, do you?"

You asked, with some hesitation, if she meant...

"Oh. Oh! No, silly. For dancing, I mean." Her sympathetic smile was only partially reassuring.{endif}{if Amulette = True}

You thought Amulette could probably have stayed in her witch attire and been perfectly fine at the night parade, but she'd chosen to dress up anyways. Her witch cap was swapped out for a black cat ears that fit quite naturally above her silver pigtails. Her body was covered by a relatively tight black leotard with white trim, along with high-legged boots and gloves down to the elbows, ending in claws rather than cutesy paws. A tail swished the ground behind her.

"I find a fizzy feline-transformation flask fetches a further familiar facsimile, compared to a crude costume," she explained to you while licking the claws of each finger, which you now realized were real. She'd really gone the extra mile with her authenticity of her costume. "Perhaps I shall perch upon your lap? You can pet me till I purr..."

You advised her to save a little bit of her vim for the upcoming party. The carriage driver probably wouldn't appreciate you two fooling around during the trip.{endif}{if Belit = True}

The small figure on the other side of you was dressed in a tall black witch's hat, band-bra, and miniskirt, along with a cloak about her shoulders, and her hair in small pigtails. However, her hair was brown instead of silver, and her skin was freckled and tan instead of gray and pallid. Belit had dressed herself in Amulette's clothes, which seemed to be a perfect fit for her size-wise.

"What say you, silly squire?" she questioned, sticking her tongue out teasingly as she held her chin upon her palms and sat forward with a slouch. She put her face into a grin, then tried to continue. "Your... sexy saintess... still... uh... shite! I can't do it all the way that weirdo does it," she huffed, slumping her shoulders and wearing a pouting frown.

Curious, you asked why she'd chosen to dress up as the party's witch for the night.

"I'm not the type who likes to waste her money, okay? On account of not growing up with any. I'm not going to spend all my money on a fancy vampire cape I'm only going to wear one night of the year," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Although, now I owe Amulette one. Not the kind of crazy you like to owe a favor to."{endif}{if Rosary = True}

You had the distinct sense that someone had picked out Rosary's costume for her. She'd dressed in the style of one of the imps one often sees in the rank and file of the demon lord's army, with a few red armor pieces including a bright red breast-plate and pauldron over a black leather corset and tight bikini briefs. Gloves and boots match the leather portion, while the horns atop her head bore the cherry red of her lipstick. She looked profoundly uncomfortable, but, funnily enough, she did actually look a lot like an imp-- they tended to be dark skinned and very curvy.

Her eyes sheepishly darted between her own nervously wringing hands and your face, waiting for you to reassure her that dressing this way wasn't some affront to Geod.

You told her that she made a very pretty imp. That was putting it mildly-- the shape of her body in that outfit could be described in much lustier terms.

A slight smile came to her face, as well as a dark blush. "Oh, well... Thank you, Sir Lavender." She didn't look much more calm, but she did look happy.{endif}{if Bangaal = True}

Bangaal was one of the few saintesses in the world who could attend a gathering like this in her usual clothing and fit right in, but she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to dress up. She'd swapped out her white-and-red dancer's attire for a jingling body curtain of glistening orange dragon scales. There were significant open windows in the curtain, displaying peeks of rich brown skin and begging the question of whether she'd elected to wear anything underneath. A large headdress with curved horns and a dragon's skull adorned her cranium, hiding the upper half of her face, while failing to mask her crazed grin.

You asked her if real dragon scales were perhaps going a little overboard.

"Ha ha, no such thing, Lavender Vin! Besides, Bangaal did not pay a single gold piece for this, out of our company purse or otherwise! Conjuring a fine costume like this is so simple for her, with the application of chaos magic! Well, I suppose it cost the dragon who is now missing the scales."

And the skull?

"Ha ha! It is obviously not large enough to be a dragon's! But Bangaal conjured it from somewhere! Do not worry, it was long dead, whatever it was!"

You still couldn't help but wonder where she'd yanked the skull of a previously unknown species of miniature scaled horror from.{endif}{if Liens = True}

As for Liens Whitespark, it was hard to say that she'd truly gotten into the spirit of the night. Whereas the other saintesses had all dressed in furs, scales, or at least cloth, she was equipped in a very strange looking helmet of metal that mostly hid her face, along with a matching, silvery bodysuit with a metallic sheen, a surprising choice with a tight fit that did little to hide her overweight figure. Long gloves and boots were included to match the suit. Her legs were crossed and her new glove's thumb was getting the same **** her usual did, as she bit it out of **** habit.

She seemed to notice you staring at the especially tight fit around her noteworthy cleavage. Her eyebrows lowered into an irritated glare. "Looks stupid. Right?"

You didn't want to agree with her. Instead, you remarked that you couldn't place the monster she was trying to imitate.

"Metal golems. Demon lord has those. Not near the front lines. More like caverns. Unfortunate. I'd like to study one. For my own mechanical golem research," she spoke through her clenched teeth as she continued to chew the fabric of her glove, going at it a little harder than usual. "Plus. I need to hide my face. I need to look ridiculous. I don't necessarily want people thinking. 'Oh. It's her. The genius. Except she looks really idiotic tonight.'"

That did make some sense.{endif}

It was a motley arrangement inside of that carriage, to be certain. Visitors in such strange apparel could only be headed to one place: the Night Parade. At least word of the festivities had reached far enough that you didn't have to explain things to the driver.

The streets of Missionaire, in your past experience, tended to get dark at night, discouraging anyone from loitering about. The usual lights had been just those who had not extinguished their lanterns for their night in the residential areas, or perhaps the torches carried by the guardsmen patrolling the city. In the shadier areas of town, there had often been no light at all.

The festivities and the new money in town seemed to have turned all that on its head. The streets were brighter than you'd ever seen them at this time of night, as though the sun hadn't set, from the sheer amount of lantern-light around every corner. The parade was already out in full ****, making more noise than you'd ever heard in town, even during the day time. You pitied anyone who was trying to sleep regular hours during all of this racket. People were dancing, playing music, cheering, and here and there, other, bolder pastimes: gambling, brawling, and plenty of revelers sharing back alley embraces with strangers they'd never met until tonight.

There'd be time to partake in some of these vices later when you joined the parade. For now, you needed to meet up with the church's counselor. Fortunately, you had a description of her from Helmid, and her features were so stand-out, you didn't suspect it would take long to find her.

"You, squire! Over here."

Or, perhaps she'd find you first.

You shouldered your way through throngs of party-goers until you reached the least enthused party-girl you'd ever seen in your life. The woman awaiting you had the waving, lavender colored hair you'd been told to expect and she looked to be upward of forty. Her body type reminded you a lot of Liens-- she was very heavy, although, unlike the other woman, she wore a girdle a bit too obviously in an effort to downplay her belly. Her expression matched the inventor's too. She looked as sour as they come.

The woman adjusted oversized, circle-rimmed glasses upon the bridge of her nose with a quick nudge of two fingers. They glasses were the only normal part of her attire. The rest consisted of a vibrant, red-and-gold dress and jester's cap, complete with jingling bells. Her boots matched the attire, with curled toes. The outfit was as jovial as the woman was not-- it was quite clear someone else had chosen it for her. That said, she did have exposed, creamy white thighs, that the short skirt managed to draw attention to and her thick bottom was probably her crowning physical feature.

But you weren't here to think about that. This woman was an agent of the church and didn't look like she was interested in being your treated like a saintess, or even a dance partner.

{if Stealthy Costume = 1}"You've masked yourself too thoroughly. You were lucky I spotted you from your company. Stalking around in something like that, how was I supposed to recognize you?"{else}"At least I'm not the only one wearing a ridiculous costume tonight for the sake of the church. Still, did you have to be that flashy? You look as if you're relying on a strategy of blinding the demon with glitter. It's hard to imagine you fighting in that."{endif}

The woman definitely didn't have your saintesses' fondness for you. She also didn't give you a chance to retort, quickly moving on to business.

"Let's go over this quick. I have things I need to get to while the parade is still underway," Counselor Ursula continued, crossing her arms beneath her heavy bosom. "I can't find Mympho by myself, so I'd better tell you all about him."

You stopped her, too curious to avoid asking the question: why was a counselor so intimate with his behaviors, anyway? Wasn't the fugitive a demon? This seemed like work for a jailer knight, not a counselor-- typically, they worked in the guidance of Geod's faithful.

"Hmph. Let's just say that once upon a time, I was an inquisitor, before the laws of the church changed and made those obsolete. I acquired talents during that time that make me an expert in hunting demons and demon-friends. Besides that, I happened to be at the right place at the right time and learned the right ways to handle him," she explained. "Interrupt me again and I'll push you under the feet of the parade, squire."

It seemed she didn't have that much respect for your profession.

"Mympho is an illusionist demon. You've already been briefed on what that entails-- he can conjure any sort of illusion you can imagine. What you aren't aware of are his behaviors. Illusionist demons can take all manner of forms, but he has grown especially attached to the form of an elf woman, about 5'5", named Hyte Blackleather. Blond, pale skin from living in the jail, pointed ears, with perky tits and a pleasantly round bottom."

You thought it was a little strange that she'd include those last parts.

"I'm just providing a thorough description to help you find her," the woman responded with a scolding, no-nonsense frown. "His other weakness is that he's quite obsessed with using his magic to dominate people he wants to knock down a peg. Powerful people-- saintesses, for instance. I'm sure you can lure him into a confrontation that way."

You weren't so happy about the idea of using the saintesses as bait, but then, they were stronger than anyone in the kingdom. They could handle the challenge. Still, you were worried about the illusion magic. It sounded quite fearsome and you'd heard Mympho's was particularly potent.

"Ha! He was defeated by a single spy, which led to his jailing. He's not weak, but he'll be nothing if your saintesses corner him. Just keep your wits about you and consider what talents might help you to turn the tables on him or see through his magic."

You thanked the counselor again for the help, then asked where the two of you might rendezvous when this was all over.

"Let's meet at the foot of the parade when we're finished. Now, I have a bit of legwork to do myself."

You watched with curiosity as the clownishly-clad woman head off into the alleys, disappearing among the shadows. Now it was just you, your saintesses, and a parade full of strangers in interesting masks. Finding Mympho would be extraordinarily difficult if you just used your eyes-- he could be anything from his favorite blond elf disguise to a town guardsman at this point.

However, this really wasn't so tricky. Your task, for now, was simple: find a way to attract Mympho's attention to you. The best way would probably be to make a show of your own talents and those of your saintesses, in order to entrap the monster into a direct challenge...