Rely on Amulette's plan to defeat Chautery

Letting loose Amulette was always a bit of a risky proposition, especially in a setting where the crowd was already pretty on edge for rumors of the demon army's spies, but she was also the resourceful type who could handle herself in almost any situation. Like a cat that always lands on its feet-- and in this case, dressed like one too-- she had every contingency covered with her wide array of potions and her mastery of dark magic. You figured she had something in her bag of tricks that would work, even against psionic trickery, so you gave her the nod.

"Perfect! Prepare to peep into the pinnacle of potionomic proficiency," the witch grinned, flourishing her newly acquired cat tail and then licking the back of her hand with her forked, purple tongue, also in a cat-like manner... You didn't think that last part was intentional. Was this actually going to work out? As you walked around to the staircase, she simply leaped up onto the stage as though it was natural to her. By the time you caught up with her, she was already wheeling and dealing.

You saw her engaged with the helmeted man, Chautery. He was willing to match her, at least in terms of smirking and blowing hot air. A grin rested upon his face. "Such a lovely saintess! A rare breed. A devil, a witch, and a cat besides? Now I've seen everything!"

"Ki hi hi... no mortal may ever manage everything, my good man," Amulette cackled. "Incidentally, are you interested in investing in an innovative inebriant that will make this an inch more interesting? Offered free of fee, from me to thee~"

"Not much of an investment if it's free, now is it?" he laughed along, then wagged one finger. "You're free to drink whatever you like, but I prefer to keep my wits about me for the challenge. Careful! Women are known for loosening up when they drink, not closing ranks."

"Likewise of your lovely wife, Lydia?"

"She will not-"

"Nonsense. Let's humor her," the woman sitting behind him agreed. "If she's willing to share the a drought of the same, that is. Preferably before I take a sip." A challenging smile came to her red lips. She'd probably had some experience with turning down suspicious drinks before.

Amulette showed a toothy grin of pointed fangs before producing two small, unadorned clay cups between three of her knuckles and setting them on the game table where Lydia was seated. Next, she produced a small bottle of murky green liquid-- not exactly appetizing, even if she did describe it as an "inebriant." You wondered where she was keeping these cups and bottles, but that wasn't especially grandiose in the total scope of magic you'd seen her wield. With a satisfied smile, she poured the contents of the bottle into the two makeshift shot glasses. Finally, she took her seat in the chair next to Lydia, facing opposite where Chautery would be seated. "Bottom's up," she finished, raising her glass to clink it in an unspoken toast with her competitor.

Lydia waited until she saw Amulette down the whole thing and smack her lips with satisfaction. When it was finished, Lydia finally agreed to drink her own.

The witch grinned from ear to ear while keeping her eyes squinted shut, while Lydia kept her eyes half open, watching you for any suspicious movements. You had none. All you could do was sit down and hope you were going to figure out some way to convince Lydia to betray her husband and let you win this contest. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, wishing Amulette had been straight with you for once and explained how she planned to play this one...

You were still pondering the answer to that mystery when Lydia grabbed your head in both hands and pulled you over the table towards her, grabbing your lips in her plump red ones for an especially passionate kiss. There were practically hearts in her eyes as she laid upon you one of the sloppiest smooches of your life, refusing to even pull back for air, seemingly.

"H-Honey?!" Chautery gasped from where he was still standing at the front of the stage. He hadn't even left his spot yet to get into the chair opposite Amulette and he'd already lost the contest. He stomped one foot, then leaped at the table where Amulette was seated and smashed the top of it with his hands, palms down. The empty cup jumped up from the shaking surface and clattered off the table onto the stage. "This can't be! What did you do, Witch?! What was in that drink?!"

"Ki hi hi! Nothing nefarious that was not also in mine, you ninny."

"Y-You have some sort of... poison resistance, I wager! This game was rigged from the very beginning in your favor! I won't stand for such trickery."

You tried your best to watch events unfold from the side of your eye while Lydia kept your head locked into place facing hers.

Amulette snickered again, although her eyes were still thoughtfully shut. "Hmmmm... I may possess a modicum, but no, you're madly off the mark. Truly effective tinctures resist such tactics. Unto Lydia's lips, I delivered that lauded liquid from the long-told legends: a witch's love potion! She has temporarily tendered a tender tether, falling for the first fellow her eyes fell upon."

You tried to make some sort of protest to the nature of this trickery, but found yourself unable, your mouth totally occupied by Chautery's wife. This seemed less like a love potion and more one that put the single-minded pursuit of kissing into the victim's head. This did explain why Amulette herself had not been affected, despite drinking the same mixture: she'd tactically kept her cat-like eyes shut since drinking it.

At any rate, having lost the contest, Chautery was now **** to get you off of his presumably legally-bound wife. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and did his best to pull her backward, while she clung tightly to you, literally sucking your face to keep a hold on you. Amulette couldn't help you much with this-- you were pretty much stuck in this situation until Chautery could physically drag Lydia off. "I won't forget this repugnant trick of yours! Unscrupulous witchcraft such as this has no place on my stage, amidst true magic!"

"Ooooh, but the blame rests basically upon our big, beloved Geod, doesn't it? You can hardly hold me in hatred for what He has His hands in!" Amulette cackled, seeming very amused by the man's plight and rather unsympathetic to yours. "Address any anger towards the church's exalted altar!" She was actually kicking her feet in amusement now.

Once you'd gotten free of Lydia, you went to collect Amulette, grabbing her hand to help her out of her chair. As soon as you did, she opened her eyes slightly... then you were deadlocked again, as she lifted herself up and re-engaged the kiss, now between squire and saintess. Her forked tongue circled yours excitedly and her lips smacked noisily as she found herself engaged in the same spell she'd inflicted upon Lydia with her potion a moment ago. You were **** to wrap one arm around her back and the other beneath her bottom to carry her, doing your abashed best to apologize to Chautery before exiting the stage.

Well... you'd certainly drawn the crowd's attention with that one! Now there was nothing to do but suffer a long ten minutes or so of making out with your hypnotized wife. You found a nice, shady alley to finish that up while your other saintess stood outside keeping watch...

... And you wondered if Amulette had really been hypnotized that entire time. From the sneaky grin on her face when the two of you exited the alley hand-in-hand, you gathered she may have been acting for the back half.