The steward runs out the door. Maybe you shouldn’t wait to see if he comes back.
The Sultan’s steward reverts to his natural form.
Oh, come on. Stop goofing off and get on with the job.
No. I don’t think so.
On a table in the corner is a tall flagon.
On a small table in the shadow of a pillar is a flagon of chilled wine.
It is made of brass with enamel and inlay work, but there its similarity to anything you might happen to find in Cost Plus ends.
The wine smells good, too.
The flagon has no lid. If you put it in your pack, everything will get wet and sticky and you will end up smelling like a distillery.
You can’t take the wine, but you can drink it here and then take away the flagon.
If that’s all the respect you have for other people’s property, why are you stealing so much of it?
You already drank up the wine.
The cloak of obscurity will not work very well if you spill wine on it.
You finish off the wine in the flagon. You feel no guilt about doing so, since it is obviously kept for the use of non-Muslim visitors such as yourself.
(Well, obviously.)
To the south is the Sultan’s reception hall.
You can’t blame the cat for being unfriendly.
The cat scratches your hand—which is neither more nor less than what you deserve.
Must you be so greedy? Find the object you want, and pick it up.
