Quoted By:
“I accept your generosity, Sheish.” You bow. In part to show your respect to your new patron, in part to hide your frown. You honestly don’t like being under the thumb of another greedy man so soon after you left the Thronelands, but this is an offer too hard to pass.
“Of course you do.” Sammyak smiles from ear to ear. “Why don’t you go to my tent and pick yourself a change of clothes, eh kid?” He pushes you towards one of the largest tents in the circle, it is red cloth covered in great pelts and with lamps hanging from wooden spears.
“Oh! And tell the Matron to give you a bath too.” He turns his nose, cleaning his hand on his leggings. Well, you travel with nothing but the cloth on your back for a month and let's see how fragrant you get. Wait, Matron?!
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Why are you surprised.
Of course the greedy Qartian was dragging not one, not two, but three women! Around with him. Into this caravan going to the wildest parts of the civilized lands, where monsters carve kingdoms and bandits and warlords roam free.
The girls look downright dour, and you can’t blame them. The Matron, a red haired woman of middle age, quietly blocked your way at the entrance. She didn’t say anything at first, but you noticed she was pawing a knife. And the two girls on the bed pillows also didn’t look so defenseless, either.
You had to show them the twin rings Sam Tusker gave you to enchant. After that, the atmosphere changed almost completely. You were quickly disrobed like a child, rushed to a large brass tub which was full of cold water. Through protests and screams they scrubbed you and picked on you. Your hair was too dirty, not enough meat on your bones, you were too fat on the butt, no girl would marry a boy who wouldn’t cut his nails. It was an incessant barrage. Disregarding the fact you were possibly older than the Sheish they called master, this was really demeaning. The worst part is that you have been without the touch of a woman for the past years, so their coddling made your body react in a very straightforward manner that only exacerbated your discomfort and embarrassment.
At least you denied them the pleasure of dressing you up like a children’s doll, claiming the Sheish ordered you to choose your clothes.
You step out of the partition looking bright red in the face. The Matron whistles at you, her face bright with delight. The other two just share whispered gigglings with each other.
You sigh.
>A - Stay inside and try to get to know the three concubines of the Sheish. Or at least try to fix that horrible first impression.
>B - You’ve had enough of these cruel women. You are going outside!
