>>6226927>“That’s fine, I’m sure we can manage on our own.” You tell Klement. You didn’t enjoy the idea of accepting any sort of “gift” from the man. Knowing him it would likely play a part in whatever sort of trickery he’d had in mind.“Nonsense! I know you had quite a few women you’d fool around with back in the day. And these are the finest in all Morfis. They are known as the Maya.’ Though they may not look it, each one of them is a sorceress. They blend magic into their dances, and can produce many interesting and delightful sensations for those who watch them move. ” Klement says, turning towards his throng of women with arms outstretched. “Would any of you lovely ladies enjoy spending a night with my dear friend here? Sure, he may lack the handsome looks of yours truly, but he is a good man nonetheless!”
The Maya who’d been lying about in the room all turn their heads to regard you. You were never one to be intimidated by female attention, but having the eyes of dozens of beautiful women suddenly appraising you was not a welcome feeling.
“Sorry, but he’s too tall.” One woman says, blowing a puff of smoke from her pipe.
“I don’t like redheads…” Another chuckles.
“Is that an axe on his back?” You hear one woman whisper. “Only villains use those.”
One by one, the Maya come up with various absurd excuses to reject accompanying you. The way they go about it all gives the impression that they may have been planning this all along. As Klement bursts into laughter, you think to yourself that this was juvenile even for him.
“Hah! Sorry, old friend. I guess they’re a bit pickier than I’d thought!” Klement laughs, wiping away another fake tear. He could enjoy the laugh for now. You’d later enjoy smashing him against the cage.
“I will accompany Lord Tristain.”
Klement’s laughter suddenly stops, and the two of you turn to the woman who’d just spoken. She was a Maya, wearing loose fitting white silk that revealed much of her midriff. She had bright orange hair and piercing blue eyes that were brimming with confidence. The other Maya seem to regard her with some combination of annoyance and shock. They had clearly not been expecting her to ruin their joke.
“Oh, it’s you.” Klement says dryly. “This one doesn’t put out, Tristain. Don’t feel pressured to accept her company.”
The Maya walks up to you, offering a practiced bow. When she lifts her head, a smile has appeared on her face.
“Lord Tristain. My name is Chelsey. Please, would you allow me to escort you to your room?” As she speaks, she begins toying with her hair using her right hand. Your attention is drawn to the bracelet she wears. A silver band, with tiny pegasus ornaments hanging off. You’d seen something like that before. Bronte owned a circlet that looked exactly like it.
>A): Accept Chelsey’s company.>B): Decline. This is likely another joke. 