Sinnabarrovian Delights.

"I had a look for the good stuff. Turns out we still had some of the 'gifts' from that delegation from Sinnabarrow that met with you last year. Remember?" Jana says, mostly to Donald, as she sets her tray down on her plush double bed, and invitingly taps the quilt, beckoning the pair of you to join her.

“Ach-” Donald curses, reflecting as the two of you go sit with Jana. “Princess fucking Madeleine. Don't remind me.”

“Was she really that bad?” You ask. Sinnabarrow was a small but wealthy kingdom to the east. After decades of uncertainty, it was was a nascent economic powerhouse under the relatively new Diacre dynasty. Madeleine herself, you had only heard of in passing.

“That bad? She's a fucking madwoman, brother. The old king was notorious for it, back in the day. Her father, and his before him, they were on more of an even keel. Turns out the gods were just saving up all that crazy for one mad wench.”

“I normally like them a little wild.” You shoot back with a smirk.

“Likewise. But Madeleine... well, I usually prefer to know if someone wants to ride my prick or cut my throat.” Donald grins.

“Hang on... isn't she first in line to Sinnabarrow's throne?” you recall. You really should pay more attention to your advisory briefings.

“Aye, ever since her brother Arno broke his neck. You can expect that kingdom to go off a fuckin' cliff once her lunatic arse is on the throne.”

“Enough about Madeleine!” Jana interjects. “She may be dreadful, the delights she brought, however...”

“Are probably half the reason she's so demented.” Donald quips. Jana smiles, before motioning to a decanter of bright red liquid.

"Sinnabarrovian Red Spirit." Donald tells you. "I used to tell me Da we could use this shite for siege explosives! You game, Ed?"

Never one to back down from a challenge, at least when it came to drinking or wenching, you agree, and Jana pours out three small measures into bronze goblets. A far cry from the crystal you were used to back home, but you're not about to quibble about such things before two warriors.

One the count of three, you each knock back your drink. You've had some experience with spirits, but it burns even worse than you were expecting.

You sputter, barely managing to keep it down. Jana, for her part, grimaces at the sheer strength of the concoction.

"That'll do the job!" Donald gasps, wiping his mouth. "You alright there, Edward?" he asks, slapping you on the back.

You nod, and Jana moves onto the other delicacy Princess Madeleine gifted them, contained in a small silver box, which she passes to you.

You'd always felt a little uncomfortable handling the metal, as you had spending more time than strictly necessary in churches and other such things. It was probably psychosomatic, however. Many of Itheria's most treasured relics were forged from silver, and Marissa had draped her demonic body in many of them before fucking you senseless.

Opening the box, you observe a sort of finely ground powder, tightly packed.

"They call this stuff Jitterleaf Powder." Jana explains. "You just bring a little up to your nose and-"

Jana demonstrates, scooping a little of the alchemical mixture to her nose and snorting it up. The blonde's whole body seems to jolt, as if blasted by a mage's lightning. She seems enervated, delighted by it, though, her pupils dilating.

"How does it feel?" You ask curiously.

"My heart's racing, blood pounding." Jana responds, speaking somewhat quicker than normal. "Spirits, I'm getting wet..."

That was all you had to hear. Lifting a measure of the novel concoction on your fingernail, you bring it to your nostril and inhale, just as Jana did.

It's exactly as exhilarating as the warrior woman described. Seconds elapse, then the Jitterleaf is sending a nervous sort of delirium through your body. Followed by a convulsive sexual heat. You feel your cock quickly become engorged. Jana is there, riding the alchemically-induced euphoria just as you are. You want to kiss her, so you do, seizing the blonde and pulling her close, forcing your tongue into her mouth.

Jana exclaims, giggles, then returns your lustful affection. You pin her down as she kisses you. Her powerful thighs wrap around your hips, grinding herself against you.

Donald, off to the side, watches you with his woman for the briefest of seconds, before deciding to join the fun. He scoops up a dose of his own, bigger than either of yours to match his frame, and snorts it.

For your part, you're mostly unaware of this. All of your attention is on Jana. The way her tongue playfully spars with yours, the wild look in her eye, the fierceness with with she brings her body up against yours.

Jana wrestles open her lightweight armour, exposing her tits before you. It's a sight to behold. Some of Jana's soldiers are so heavily tattooed they more resemble the walls outside taverns. Jana's body is far more tastefully inscribed, you find.

One of the Warmistress's few tattoos is an arc of blue ink, stretching from one side of her torso to the other, just above her tits, cresting her collarbone. Four Beathan runes are evenly inscribed across said arc.

"Earth, Sky, Lakemountain!" Jana excitedly indicates, jabbing each one with a forefinger.

"Oh, when the spirits were breathing life into your people, they must've put something extra in you." You chuckle giddily, your tongue cresting on of the marks before moving down to kiss and lick Jana's succulent tits.

"You know our story?" Jana purrs appreciatively, stroking your hair as you mouthworship the warrior.

To the side, Donald groans in contentment, begins undressing to join Jana.