<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/xWvVE62.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Hectavia Koth (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1743167)</span></strong><br/>________________________</div><br/><em>Boros, Sand, and Terrence. And Dillan, of course, though he was rather less likely to be relevant.</em>[/i] In her mind, she sorted them according to her opinions; Terrence's hunched posture was doing the man no favours, she decided. Hectavia gave each man a slight nod, not enough to imply any friendliness, while avoiding the appearance of overt rudeness. "Hectavia Koth," she replied smoothly.<br/><br/>The tiefling's face darkened as the men confirmed the ominous note from before. The island's curse was one of debauchery and breeding. With a tight hint of a scowl, she spoke again: "I had heard as much, but I thank you... gentlemen... for confirming it. I see now why you're so<em>hospitable.</em>" She ends the last word with a cool sneer. "After all, you've only to be patient and I'll come begging, won't I?" Her voice is wry, but Hectavia can't quite shake the persistent thoughts of Boros' barely-hidden cock... And the others', for that matter.<br/><br/>Without waiting for a reply to her rhetorical question, she rose to her feet from the seat that Sand had prepared, drinking a few sips from the waterskin she was given. She watched Boros closely as he asked about her book. A pause. "You're clever men, to have learned so much of the island. And you're so very welcoming. Why don't we speak plainly, hmm? You're none of you allowed inside me. I can't risk that, you understand. Moreover, I am not your prize or your whore; you<em>ask</em>first. In return, I shall have access to your encampment. Is that fair?"