You spend most of your day hunting for bargains, in and around the market square. As the day progresses, you regularly find yourself reminiscing about the morning's procession of sandalled monks, and their luscious, sweaty soles. (-5 MP) Thankfully for you, there are plenty more feet on display at the market: big feet, small feet, old feet, young feet, pretty feet, ugly feet, clean feet, dirty feet...
"Hmm... dirty feet!" you think to yourself as you catch sight of some young rascals washing their toes in a fountain. For a moment, you consider pledging your very own oral cleaning apparatus to help wash their feet, but the boys are too soon chased off by an angry Sisterhood guard, leaving you with nothing but lust and regret (-5 MP).
With the sheer amount of barefoot plebs around you, shopping quickly became a strenuous task, demanding all your attention and focus. Despite your newfound foot fetish, you manage to purchase a rusted iron sword dealing 2 damage per hit for 4 gold, and bunch of dry lavender for 1 gold, to wear under your clothes and help mask unpleasant odours (even though your definition of 'unpleasant odour' was progressively shifting away from cheesy feet...)
Meanwhile, your initial idea to sell the pendant for a couple more coins was silently forgotten in between gawking at other people's lower extremities, and thinking of clever ways to convince merchants to sell you their worn shoes. Not that money was useless... but, as strange as it sounded, you felt a kind of emotional attachment to the necklace. You felt a warmth throughout your body you had only experienced once before in your life - the first time you had ever fallen in love. You just loved the pendant, and loved feet. Specially feet. (-5 MP)
And after a long day's perving, your legs automatically found their way to the nearest inn, ever so ironically called "The Rabbit's Paw". As your stepped through the door, a chubby little woman rushed to welcome you into her establishment and present you with usual array of food and drink. Since toejam wasn't on the menu, you decided to ask for a beer. And another one. And another one... quite a few, actually. By the end of the night, the alcohol had done its part chipping away at your self-consciousness. (-5 MP)
After that, it didn't take long for you to try and have a taste of your drinking buddy's toes, before being triumphantly kicked and punched up the stairs, and toward your room. As you leaned on the doorframe, wiping the blood off your swollen lip, your eyes wander to the end of the corridor, where you saw a young gentleman of exotic descent, no doubt a Far-Southerner by his tanned skin, pitch-black hair and deep-blue eyes, slowly enter his bedroom. Your eyes bulge along with your nether regions as you look down to his shapely feet, encased in nothing but an exquisite leather sandal!
In your drunken stupor, the thought of storming into the young man's room and taking your frustration out on his soles does cross your mind... on the other hand, you had barely escaped alive minutes ago from a similar exploit. Oh, god...
Your MP: 65/100 MP (-5 MP ongoing while the necklace is equipped)
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