<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/sXz2EbT.jpg)</div><br/>Her terror was driving her, terror mixed with the confusing swirl of emotions.  She wasn't thinking clearly, she just felt like she had to get away, had to be clear.  Had to get away from the fat incubus that had made her cum so hard that she considered giving in, becoming his fuck toy, becoming the mistress of this haunted demnse.  She was a paladin, a holy warrior, how could she think of letting herself fall so far?  How could she think a life of power over this house, a life of carnal bliss unlike most mortals ever touched, could be worth sacrificing her noble purpose?  Then again, there was a certain allure to it, wasn't there?  To be fucked so hard, so raw, so brutally.  To experience delights that few mortals could ever dream of....<br/><br/>No no no no,  She scurred out into the hallway, eager to be away from this room.  Her arms full of her assorted armor pieces, her bag, her hands juggling her lantern, shield and sword.  She didn't stop her scrambling run until she ran out of room to run.  Looking around in a panic she spun in wild circles, catching her breath, looking around at where she was.  The front door, where this had started, where she'd come in.  She spun, looking for any threat, any signs of pursuit, but there were none.  She forced her breathing to slow, forced herself to calm the panic.  She was better than raw fear, she was a holy knight.  She set her belongings on a crate and touched her finger tips, thinking of her holy orders, thinking of the prayers she'd said a hundred thousand times.  Her heart stopped hammering in her chest, her fear subsided.  She was stronger than this, stronger then emotion, stronger than this place.<br/><br/>Several minutes went by and finally she felt better, mostly.  She was still covered in sticky cum that was beginning to dry on her face, her tits, her stomach, caking her nethers from mons all the way down her slit, and back up to the top of her asscrack.  Her thighs were caked with the drying slime all the way to her knees and lower.  But worst of all was the ache.  Her asshole had been brutally fucked by an incubus, it felt sore.  But worse than that was the other type of ache, the ache of desire, of the small part of her that wanted it again.<br/><br/>She slowly laid out her gear in the light of the lantern, her eyes keyed high up listening for any sounds out of place.  She looked over her belongings and realized in her haste she had also grabbed the maid's uniform.  Her armor had been damaged, but much of it was still workable.  Some of the leather straps that held it in place had been damaged and would need a skilled armorsmith to repair.  Still, partially functional armor was better than none.  She set aside the pieces that would do her no good by the front door.  She could collect them later, after she had vanquished the evil in this place.  More troubling however were that her vestments were a lost cause for the most part.  The sanctified garments that she wore under her armor were just as important as the metal plates that went on top.  They padded any blows and kept metal from digging into her skin, without that padding the armor would be dangerous.   Not as dangerous as no armor, but she knew how deadly what seemed like a simple cut from armor being forced into one's own skin could be.  One legged Finna, a trainer at her order, had driven home that point.  Finna hadn't been aware of how badly her padding had been damaged and when a blow struck her armored leggings in battle, the edge of that metal armor had broken her skin, severed an artery.  She'd almost bled out because of her own armor.  The healers saved her, but couldn't save her leg.<br/><br/>Arisa was no armor smith, no tailor, but she knew that she could make something work, she wasn't willing to try to brave this house alone, naked, unarmored.  There had to be garments here that she could use, that could protect her, clothe her.  She growled in frustration and grabbed one of the grey drop cloths that was covering the nearby crates and wiped the jelly like cum that coated her off on the old grey cloth.  It felt better to get the incubus's seed off her body and she scrubbed at it till her skin was red.  She couldn't get perfectly clean, but it.... wait.... wait!  The crates, maybe there was something in them that she could use!  She pried open several boxes, sending great clouds of dust into the air as she pulled the drop cloths free.  Finally she found a crate with folded clothing in it.  It seemed very finely made, though it was now old and somewhat tattered, it would do.  She searched till she found some clothing that looked like it would be good enough and would work under her armor, maybe a few layers.<br/><br/>She pulled the first shirt over her head and as her head broke through the neck hole of the shirt, everything had changed.  Gone was the dark foyer, replaced by a bright and clean, shiny foyer of a lived in mansion.  The candelabra above her head twinkled with a dozen lit candles and she could hear sounds in the house, sounds of people moving.  Her armor, her lantern, her gear, it was all gone again.  Oh gods, she was back in this place where the incubus was.  She quickly pulled the shirt off and everything was dark again, lit only by her lantern.  She tested again, pulling the shirt over her head, and yes, once again she was in the house where the dead were living, the house was alive, before.... whatever had happened.<br/><br/>She pulled the shirt off and reached for another piece of clothing.  The same thing.  It seemed that the clothing when she wore it took her back to before the incident?  Maybe she could use that somehow.  She tore off the haunted clothing and looked at it, looked at the maid's uniform.  A smart tactician could make use of that type of advantage.  The house was haunted, the clothing too, but maybe, somehow, she could make it work for her?<br/><br/>Still it didn't solve the problem of her armor.  She sat and pondered, twisting a piece of cloth in her hands until she had a realization that these drop cloths might work.  Pulling off several more, sending clouds of dust into the air she nodded, yes, this would work.  She tore the cloth into long strips, the old drop cloth tearing easily in her hands.  She wound the long strips of cloth about her body, wrapping them about her flesh.  Nothing happened, there was no transformation of the mansion.  She worked the long strips of rags about her body, tying them in place and making sure there was enough padding to cover the bits of armor that she could still wear.  It wasn't pretty but it was functional.  She was displaying far more skin then she would have liked, but it would have to do.<br/><br/>She allowed herself another five minutes of meditation before going over what was left for her to do.  She had her sword, she had her shield and lantern, which still had several hours of oil left in it.  She had most of her armor though she'd have to be a little more careful now.  She had a variety of haunted clothing that could transport her from the real world to the past, or whatever, when this manse was still alive, still evil but still alive.  But most of all, she knew she had information now.  She was beginning to piece together the puzzle that was this haunted home.<br/><br/>She could do this, she had to do this.