...and back to our hero!

What a ten karat run of bad luck.

You were going about your day as usual. You were slaving away under the humans and elves, doing the jobs nobody wanted like hauling imported goods or cleaning the streets. You snatched a few purses here and there, with your victims none the wiser, when a bolt of pure light grazed your skin.

What ensued was a chase through Outer Pfollin, weaving through small crowds and over waist height crates, with fully armored big titty Templars right on your metaphorical tail. Not an uncommon sight here.

The Sisterhood of Templars apparently decided today was a good day to search for you. They know you're around here; they've got some kind of crystal ball that tells them if they're getting near to you.

You know the city like the back of your hand, but right now they've almost cornered you. You're in an alley with Templars ahead and behind you. There's only two ways left to go - left and down.

There's a nearby door which the Sisters will never follow you through. Why so? Well, it's the backdoor to one of the most infamous whorehouses in the city, the Honey Hive. It's manned by succubi known to literally suck their clients dry, and most clients are unable to walk for, at the very least, half a week afterwards.

You could also head down into the sewers. It's infested with rats of rather unusual size, and rather aggressive temperament. Your slim build and the fact that you're a shade will help you to evade the rats, but there's no guarantee. Much better than the brutal execution the church has in store for you, though.

It's a simple choice, really. Either mind-blowingly intense sex leaving you numb below the waist for the next few days, or running the risk of being torn apart and eaten by rats.