You are heading home after an eventful evening with your fellow comrades. The night had grown long and much joy was had in your fantastical escapades of Oubliettes and Wyverns.

You take the usual route home through the downtown district, passing by several restaurants and pubs, many of which are already closing down at this hour. Your mind wanders a bit through the artificially lit street.

There are mostly only street lamps on, with their bright yellow incandescent bulbs shining your path--the assorted colourful signs for businesses have been shut down. One, however caught your eye as you also registered a sound you were familiar with. It was the sign of a sports bar, still on at this late hour, shining whilst the music of a rock band you used to listen to--Jethro Bull--reached your ears. Almost immediately after shifting your gaze from the sign, you find two women sitting at an outdoor table, some fifteen feet from you. More surprising still, is that their attention is fixed on your direction.

You quickly look back to see if there was anything else that they could be looking at, but find nothing of note. Only an empty street stands behind you.

You look back at them, confirming that their eyes are locked on to yours.

The women in question would certainly stand out in any crowd by their looks alone. A blonde and a pink haired woman. Their clothes were unusual, brightly coloured, and foreign, so they didn't strike you as locals. Nor did their outfits seemed to be costumes for some event or another. Their figures seemed healthy and shapely, and their faces comely and beautiful. The blonde one lifted a wine glass to her lips and smirked, whilst the pink haired on started signaling towards you to come closer. Her voice was soft and cheerful, filled with a sort of sweet innocence you would expect from a child.

Unexpected as this all was, however, your recent Oubilettes and Wyverns experience as a Lawful Good Paladin had tempered you for this situation. You internally made a check to discern their intent.

Looking at the table they were seated at, it was full of assorted bottles of alcohol, all mostly seemingly empty. A few bottles had even been strewn about the floor nearby. The bar itself was playing terribly dated music which, while you could appreciate it yourself as a connoisseur of art and a gentleman of culture, you could only interpret its presence here as an establishment's vain attempt to appealing to those whose youth had long since passed. Looking at their face, past their inviting eyes, long shaped eyelashes, and beautifully sculpted features, you could see bags had formed under their eyes.

You made a connection.

You were not being looked at as a person. Their demeanor seemed much more like they had found something quaint. The pink one kept waving to you, her smile growing larger. You could see her breath leaving her body and into the cold air as she gasped in excitement. It reminded you of someone calling out to a cat or a dog. Perhaps something less. The blonde one's eyes scanned you from top to bottom, slowly analyzing you. Her eyes would narrow as her smile grew wider. Her expression was that of someone looking at a much anticipated meal.

You had seen enough. These must be desperate succubi.

More disgusted than terrified, you reach into your pocket for your secret weapons: your limited edition, miniature, sterling silver crucifixes fashioned after those seen in Manormania. You quickly and fiercely lob them at the two banshees.

They were unfazed, however.

In the split second that the crucifixes were in the air, a small black slit appeared in their trayectory. Just as swiftly, the slit disappeared with your precious weapons.

Once again, you were face to face with the two hags, but your options suddenly seemed much slimmer...