The Right of Noble Metals. Loyalty. Silver and Gold.

The Priest-In-Rags has failed to conceal his erection ever since she first dropped to her knees. And she has noticed. Her large breasts heave under the thin blouse, two buttons already undone. She licks her lips, full and half-opened. Her eyes flit between your mouth and his trousers – not only his trousers.

Your command drains the blood from her face. The Priest-In-Rags sputters, his own visage turning red and pale after. They both mutter understanding, neither willing to meet your gaze. ”You are so wise,” she says, already fumbling for her purse.

He meekly agrees.

You have gained [25] Taler

You now have: [{@50 Talers}] Taler

You collect the money, but you can sense their doubt. And so you speak. Of the temple of venation and the Priestess interred below. How the hearth fire sings and blazes, nourished by sacred oils. Of hunters bathed in blood. How they raise their wine cups to honour the circle of golden stars. Of the wounded Leviathan pushing through the purple spume. How harpoons have pierced her side, and how she with her final wails calls out for her mate.

Hours have passed, and a purple morning dawns

{if The Passage of Time > 95} Your Time in Barenhaven is running out {elseif The Passage of Time > 80} Your Time in Barenhaven is coming to a close {elseif The Passage of Time > 60} You have some Time left in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 50} Your Time in Barenhaven is half-way over {elseif The Passage of Time > 30} You have quite some Time left to spend in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 15} You have a lot of Time left to spend in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 5} Your Time in Barehaven has just begun {else} You are now spending Time in Barenhaven {endif}

Priest and Housewife look at each other. She has placed her wedding band between the thumb and index finger of her other hand and absent-mindedly turns the golden circle. He has crossed his legs to conceal his cock behind his knees.

{if A Heretic = 1}

A lone figure sups on Bread, Water, Milk, and Oil

The SCELERATE beats her drum for you

{elseif An Occultist = 1}

A lone figure sups on Bread, Water, Milk, and Oil

The THIRD beats her drum for you

{else}

A lone figure sups on Bread, Water, Milk, and Oil

{endif}

”Do you think I can?” she asks. ”I’m not sure he’d understand. He’s a practical man, my husband, and – and we’ve done things, the Father and I. Things I can never tell him.”

You ponder her dilemma while counting the money. She has paid her due and her admission counts as confession. Truth is not demanded, only contrition is, and her husband will see the light in time. She is given to him, and he to her, and you remind her to remind him.