Time to get up!

The blessed rays of early morning stream through your window. And soon enough, they shine directly onto your pale cheek. You feel the sun gently tugging you from the land of dreams, insisting that you get up and continue your holy quest. Eventually, your eyes flit open, and it's time to start the day. You do, however, feel a certain wetness between your legs. Memories of lewd dreams slowly drift back to you, dirty imaginings, faceless, phantom men touching all over body. Manhandling your breasts, pulling your legs apart, diving between them...

Your quickly shake your head to dismiss these dirty imaginations. If you could, the morning might be spent taking care of this need, but the appointment with the mayor looms large. Grunting softly to yourself, you kick the covers away, ignore the obvious damp patch that you left on the quilt, and start on your daily routine. Stripping down and stepping into the wash basin, you take a few minutes to cleanse your holy, pale body. The cool water makes you shiver as it runs down your nude form, and your nipples harden involuntarily. Two deep, red dots on your otherwise pale and white bosom. Gnawing on your lip, you cannot resist reaching up and giving those two erect nipples a squeeze between index finger and thumb. Letting out an involuntary gasp of pleasure at the sensation, you allow yourself a few minutes of fondling and running your hands down your body. Your soft, pale fingers roam over your chest and up your hips, while the others still lightly squeeze and knead those red nubs. A long, low moan escapes your ruby red lips. Suddenly, you remember that you are meant to do things today that aren't touching yourself, and you quickly shake yourself out of this lewd reverive and step out of the washbasin. Without drying yourself, you hurriedly start pulling on your armour, conscious that you've wasted some time. The next 10 minutes are spent with you strapping and tightening a myriad of straps and clasps, wishing all the while that you had a squire to do this for you. A cute squire maybe. Perhaps a young man, the same age as you, with sharp, elven features. Maybe he's shirtless too... And perhaps he kisses all over your body while he straps on your armour. And you could let him keep you warm at night...

Blushing a little at your dirty day-dreaming, you spare a glance outside. From the position of the sun, you can see it's still early morning, but you don't have long until it's time to meet the mayor. After quickly making sure you're completely presentable in the mirror, you make your way down into the inn's main room. Barliman, predictably, is behind the bar, wiping down the surface. When he sees you, he hesitates for a moment. You can barely see his cheeks colour a shade of pink, and you feel your own doing the same. Images of the barkeep's thick cock twitching in your hand flood your mind, and once again you feel that warmth between your legs. Suddenly feeling your legs become weaker, you hurry over to an empty table and sit yourself down quickly, looking down at the gnarled wood, wanting desperately for those images to disappear from your mind. "Breakfast is just about to be served." You hear from beside you, causing you to jump a little, and turn quickly and look up at into Barliman's awkward, smiling face. Your position is similar to last night, and both of you know it. You nod quickly, offering a soft smile to him as he hurries back behind his bar. Soon enough, breakfast arrives. It's simple but hearty, eggs, bacon, mushrooms and a juicy sausage. Careful not to let the greasy food on your armour or clothes, you quickly gobble it down. You see the innkeep stealing glances at you through the corner of your eye. You wonder idly if he enjoyed last night a little too much...

After finishing breakfast you stand up to leave. As you pass by Barliman, you offer him a smile and a wave. The older man returns a nervous smile, though he conspicuously brings the tankard he was cleaning down to his crotch. You idly wonder why. Knowing you wasted some time this morning, you hurry towards the manor. You pass by a group of cloaked figures that are talking in hushed tones in an alleyway. You take a quick look as you walk by, but knowing the limited time you have, you don't linger to eavesdrop. Your meeting with the mayor is more important.

Eventually, you arrive at the manor. Taking a deep breath, centering yourself and making sure your armour is pristine, you raise a hand to the door and knock.