"A glass of wine for me, please," Flare asked. A few minutes later, the woman returned, serving their drinks, and collecting their payment. Nearly half an hour alter, another priestess, this one dressed in a skimpy, veiled dancer's outfit, met them. "If you'd follow me, the high priestess will see you, now."<br/><br/>She led them deeper into the temple, past the more public rooms, and into the more private chambers, where the Calistrian markings were more visible and obvious. Finally, the woman stops at a door, and gestures for them to enter. Inside is a small office, with a well-polished wooden desk, and a few battered, but comfortable-looking chairs, though all attention is quickly drawn to the madam of the brothel, and high priestess of the temple, Shorafa Pamodae. A tall, well-endowed woman, with an odd, purplish hue to her skin, long, dark hair, that seems to shimmer with color, and long, pointed black horns extending from her forehead. "Welcome, sister. How can I be of service to you, tonight?" she asks with an impish smile.