Take the pink milk

You frown. "I'm more than verile enough, but I am interested in your other wares."

"Yes," the man suggest. “Would you like the pink or white? Both are excellent in their various ways."

“I’ll have some of the pink milk please,” you say. He smiles slyly and pours you a small cup. “Not for me. A jug for my harem girls,” you state, surprised that he would even offer it to you to drink.

The salesman seems disappointed as he pours the pink milk back into the milk urn. “A jug for you, I can do for two gold ingots,” he states to start the haggling.

“Two ingots?!” you cry, feigning you are insulted. “I can buy three amply endowed and servile wenches for that much.”

“Yes, but with my milk you can dull the sharp tongue of a harpy or enrich the most drab of wenches. There is great power here.” he looks about to make sure that none can overhear then whispers with a conspiratorial wink, “and should you wish to safely eliminate competition for the affections of a free woman.” He taps the lid with a leer.

You stroke your chin as though you are pondering his suggestion. “One ingot,” you state.

“Ah, my poor cowgirls! How am I to feed and stable them when I earn such a pittance! Still, you are a good man, and I know we shall do business again. One ingot it is,” you shake on the price and pay him.

He then measures out the pink liquid into an obsidian jug and seals it using wax. “Would you like a porter to carry it?”

“Yes, that is an excellent suggestion,” you state as you consider your girls. You realize that you have none that would properly benefit from the magical milk. You decide that a stop by the **** markets to buy a new girl seems in order.

“Is there anything else I can do for you before you go?” the salesman asks.