If riding a horse is a different experience as a female and as a male, it's much different riding as a nude female. You become acutely aware of the play of the wind across your skin, and the motion of the saddle between your legs. Your skin might look wooden... but it certainly doesn't feel that way.<br/><br/>Though- speaking of wooden- it certainly seems to get the attention of the night watchman as you walk up. You barely even have to focus your attention on him... he's already so flabbergasted by the appearance of a naked woman on a white horse that he's half stunned to start. And, if the way he almost falls over is any indication, you should have plenty of time to disappear before he even thinks to question what just happened...<br/><br/>Thankfully, you seem to avoid most other patrols as well... one by mere meters, as you see two guardsmen turning a corner in formation just as you step onto their street. All in all, the ride through the center of the town might be more harrowing than the time you spent in the goblins' cave...<br/><br/>But finally, you arrive at the Merry Widow's brothel... and find yourself the object of much attention almost immediately after walking in the door.<br/><br/>"My, my..." An older woman's voice reaches your ears, somehow penetrating through the sudden series of cat-calls you're getting from the men at the bar and open tables. "It's not often that one of the fair folk comes into a town... and practically unheard of for a tree-sister."<br/><br/>The voice, it turns out, comes from a matronly looking drow woman, whose eyes seem to glimmer in the candle-light with a hunger that has everything and nothing to do with your appearance.<br/><br/>"Do tell, Madame Birchwood... to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in my humble whorehouse?"