The patrons

You decide that you need a man and that slob behind the bar won't do the trick. It is the patrons that interest you more. As they oggle you, you study them, playfully thinking up naughty scenarios for yourself.

The man who catches your eye the easiest is the one staring at you without any attempt to conceal his lust. You hear the matronly waitress refer to him as Hurek. He is a head taller than any man and his chest is wrapped in leather straps that accentuate his bulging muscles. He wears only a loincloth and his savage axe speaks of an animal strength and power. You imagine him taking you from behind or forcing you to your knees to worship his masculinity. Perhaps Hurek would make for the best companion for the evening.

"Sure, if you like the musclebound drooler type," says Furgus, directly into your mind. "Just don't think I'm going to get involved."

There's the three gamblers, dangerous sorts. You hear their names mentioned. The handsome one is Tybard, the rat-faced skinny one is named Kint, you can tell he's cheating, and the fat one with an insatiable thirst is Obbo. You imagine yourself joining their game, but with only a few coins to bet you'll surely have to wager something else. Perhaps yourself for the night, winner takes whatever he wants. You bury your smile at the thought in your cup of ale so they can't see you conspiring. Maybe you should join their game.

"Just don't bet me on any hands," warns Furgus.

Finally there is the mysterious man in the purple velvet robe. He is wearing black gloves and slim black boots. All you can tell of him is that he is tall and skinny. Everything else he hides within his robe. You do not even know his name. Yet you feel compelled to go and sit with him. You want to do whatever he commands. You want to give yourself to him...where are these thoughts coming from? You shake them from your mind and have another sip of ale.

"I'd stay away from him," says Furgus. "Something isn't right."

You can feel the warmth of the ale beginning to flush your cheeks and stiffen your nipples within the cottony top of your peasant dress. Will it be cards with the gamblers? Flirting with the brute? Or go sit at the table with the strange and mysterious man?