The residence of Lord Krawitz and his family.
Where the Humiliate Lord Krawitz quest is preformed.
How To Get Here
There is a lush garden spreading out before you, providing many hiding spots, should you need to avoid patrolling guardsmen or servants. Three buildings line the side of the grounds; if your guesses are correct, the one to your left houses the servants and the one on the right is some sort of bathhouse. Sounds of decidedly feminine laughter echo between the stone pillars. Clearly someone has a party going on.
At the back of the estate stands the main building, a two storey mansion.
If you feel you’ve caused enough trouble for one night, you could leave over the fence. You won’t be able to return again, as people will be a lot more suspicious of newcomers now.
Not much is going on in the servants’ quarters. The decor is rather sparse, and from what you can gather, men and women share the same rooms. Some people have tucked in for the night, sleeping restlessly on stacked bunk beds, while a few sits around a wooden table, playing cards.
While your clothes are probably enough to fool people at a distance, wandering around the servants’ quarters is likely to get you caught quickly. Better be very careful.
Lured in by the sounds of carousing, you sneak closer to the open air bathhouse, peeking through the pillars to the lit pool beyond. Two young women are having some sort of private party, involving a lot of tickling, groping and giggling, not to mention copious amounts of wine. The water is clear, and you see that both of the submerged beauties are completely nude. Licking your lips, you draw closer, wanting to get a closer look at the noble ladies.
You are betrayed by the fickle winds, a sudden gust causing the hanging oil lamps to sway, stripping you of the cover of shadows. “Don’t tarry about in the shadows,” the older of the women calls out. Her voice carries authority, even if it’s slightly slurred in her drunken state. Though she looks very young, you would guess this woman is lord Krawitz’ wife, which would make the other one his daughter. The two seems to be almost of an age.
Slightly nervous at getting caught, you step forward, trying to maintain the appearance of a humble servant. The ladies, however, seem too far gone to care about your voyeurism, or their own compromising state.
Krawitz’ wife, Marlene:
You get a good look at the woman as she pours wine into two large cups, dripping water from her well-shaped body. She looks to be in her early twenties, with auburn hair cascading in pretty curls, framing her beautiful face and covering her C-cup breasts. You feel a bit sorry for her, having to be holed up with someone like Krawitz. A political marriage, perhaps?
Krawitz's daughter Gina: Slightly younger than the wife, she is also quite the beauty, with straight raven hair reaching down her back. She has C-cup breasts, crowned by pert nipples.
Outside the House
You cautiously approach the large mansion at the back of the estate, knowing you might raise the alarm if you get caught in a place you are not supposed to be. The main entrance is out of the question, as it is plainly visible to the guards patrolling the garden.
Noticing a small side entrance partially shrouded in darkness, you head closer to investigate. As you draw near, the door opens slightly. A cat-morph maid peeks out, glancing around furtively. Counting on the cover of night, you wait patiently for her to leave.
Being rather short, she stands on tiptoes to reach a nearby windowsill, extracting a large iron key from behind a potted plant. Once the door is securely locked, she glances around again, returns the key, gathers her skirts, and hurries off.
You wait until nobody is around before approaching the side entrance, and procuring the key from its hiding place. You replace the key before slipping in, leaving as little trace of your passage as you can.
Inside the house
You are in the main building of the Krawitz estate. The interior of the mansion, while richly decorated, has clearly seen better days. It’s a rather jarring contrast to see an ornate antique statue, no doubt very expensive, standing beside a huge staircase with visibly flaky paint. Though the main hallway is spotless, you can see tufts of dust gathering in the more dimly lit side corridors. The intricately designed carpet you are standing on exudes a faint smell of mold. Either Krawitz has been a massive cheapskate with maintenance lately, or the servants aren’t doing a very good job keeping this place in shape.
The hallway you are in is currently deserted, but a servant or maid could probably come by at any moment. Best not linger.
You are in a rather dusty storeroom, filled with boxes, crates and chests. A quick survey of the room reveals nothing of immediate value. A small glass cabinet filled with various flasks, partly obscured by a rolled up carpet, looks like it could be interesting.
Where could the good stuff be hidden? Scanning the room once more, your eyes hone in on a drapery hanging at the very back of the room. Pulling it aside, you uncover a small ornate chest. Too easy.
You open the cabinet, surveying the vials within. They seem to be different types of perfume, ranging from red to pink in color. Curious, you pick one at random and open the stopper. Just a sniff...
...Uncalled for, perverse visions of depravity roll over your unprepared senses. It is more than the smell - you want to taste it, to bathe in it, to have it enter your pores. You can already feel the taste on your tongue, a mixture of salty cum and sweet nectar, the pure essence of sin. A burning heat is rising within you, wanting to fuck, to be fucked, to join in the orgy, a writhing mass of flesh and sweat...
...Wow. Hurriedly replacing the stopper, you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. That is some potent stuff. Pursing your lips, you pocket the vial and a few similar ones. This could be used for a great distraction...
As to why Krawitz got it hidden here in the storeroom, or if he uses them for something, who knows?
The chest isn’t locked, its well-oiled hinges making no noise as you open the lid. Inside, you find a curious collection of vials, jars and bottles, marked with strange symbols. Each object is placed with meticulous care in a padded slot, protecting the contents from harm. The vials themselves are quite curious as well - some of elaborate blown glass, others looking like they were cut from some sort of crystal. Whatever these are, they look very expensive.
You pocket one of the bottles, bearing the symbol of a cat on it. Perhaps it has some sort of transformative effects? The Fluid inside seems reminiscent of an alchemical solution.
The study is a cosy, if slightly derelict room. Books and binders bulging with scrawled notes are stuffed into packed shelves. There is a fire going in the fireplace, adding a bit of warmth and light to the room during the dark hours of the night.
Above the fireplace, a lavish rapier hangs. It is an exquisite work of metalcraft, in good shape despite its significant age. It is, without a doubt, the most valuable object in the entire mansion.
The master of the estate nestles in a worn armchair by the fireplace, deeply embroiled in some document. Lord Krawitz is a man who has seen better years, the passage of time clearly evident in his odd wardrobe, his balding hair and his slightly sagging body. By the looks of it, this isn’t the first all-nighter that he has pulled during the last week, as the deep dark pockets below his tired eyes glisten starkly in the light of the fire.
The kitchen is relatively quiet during the dark hours, with only one cook being up and about, working on some leftover dishes. The rafters are bulging with delicious-looking foods, fresh spices hanging in rows along one wall, lending a pleasant aroma to the room.
The cook is a small middle-aged man with a small, oily moustache, dressed in white clothes bearing Krawitz’ emblem. He is bustling about, masterfully handling every minor task in the kitchen by himself.
“Halt!” For a moment, you freeze, thinking you are caught, but you relax a bit when he continues: “Don’t bring the dirt in here, peon!” He fusses about, waving you away from delicate tools and ingredients.