The sinister leather armor suits you

You're on a dangerous quest, you can't afford to prance-around in barely-there underclothes. You strip off the tattered remains of your clothing and begin to dress in the hardened red leather of the armor. It cinches tight against your skin and lifts your titflesh into an impressive shelf. It feels good to dress like this, it bolsters your confidence and makes you feel powerful. As you finishing sliding on the boots you feel a coldness against your skin. Your hair blows in the vault and the cold becomes a chill on your skin, your nipples hardening against the padded cup of the leather corset.

You gasp as a spirit manifests before you, yet you are not afraid. You feel somehow bonded to this apparition. It is difficult to make out its face it is swirling and sinister.

"Power," its voice is in your head. "You shall gain strength with every life you take. Sseee?"

The badly damaged blade of your short sword is suddenly red and gleaming and very sharp.

"You must punish the weak and slay your enemies," says the voice. "Do it for me and I will reward you richly."

The specter disappears and you are left alone in the chamber once more. You feel an incredible lust for . You want to slay foes and bathe in their blood. You want to dominate those who might be your friend. You feel invigorated. Your quest will be simple now.

You ascend the drafty staircase and through the door to the surface. You travel for a few hours and cross a treacherous mountain bridge over a deep valley. You travel through a sunlit pine forest. When you emerge you stand before a massive mountain capped with snow.

This is the heart of the Dragon's Spine known as Great Peak. High atop it, at the limit of the tree line, the druids make their home. It will take you a day to climb. At the base of the mountain, alongside a clear stream and a narrow mountain road, you see a modest inn with a turning water wheel. A few horses are hitched outside. The sign marks the inn as the Wayward Lass and depicts a bawdy young lady sitting and holding two mugs of ale.

You could drink a barrel of ale and have your way with every man and woman inside. Perhaps some fool will cross you and learn the truth of your sword. You lost track of time in the gnome tunnels, but it seems early afternoon. If you started climbing now you could perhaps reach the druids by tomorrow morning. But what harm is a little fun at the expense of the locals?