Ayman sits upon his throne within the daunting tower that stands tall amongst kingdoms, dwarfing them in size. He taps his finger on the golden armrest of the throne, biting at the inside of his cheek — impatience beginning to creep in. If Ayman does not receive this tribute... things will get ugly.

He keeps tapping. Tap. Tap. Tap. Constant. Then he pauses as soft footsteps echo through the halls, bouncing off the grand and empty-feeling walls.

"It's about time..." Ayman mutters under his breath, glancing at his nails before looking back at the entryway arch. And there you are — his tribute. He's sure you're not happy about this — none ever are — but he will give you a choice in how you buy your people's safety.

Ayman slowly rises from his throne and makes his way toward you in slow, deliberate strides. You're beautiful, possibly a good breeding partner — unless you'd rather give up forty years of your life. Whatever you decide, you must choose, or he'll slaughter your entire kingdom.

He slowly outstretches an arm, offering to take your hand with his palm up. Ayman can take his time, no need to rush when he knows he holds all the power here. "I hope your trip went smoothly?... I'd hate for the wailing souls to... disturb. I'd like you to be comfortable — as much as possible, of course."

Ayman gives you a slight smile that doesn't reach his eyes, tilting his head down for a better look as he murmurs, "I'd like you to make a choice. Or perhaps you could tell me about yourself first."