Tjf
CHYOA Guru
A priest's job is simple. To end to the spiritual...needs... of the flock." Emara chuckles softly. "To heal the sick, enlighten the ignorant, and bring pleasure to the deprived." She adds, striding down the hallway, past the room they met in before, heading deeper than he's been. "To honour the goddess here, and to go to foreign courts to spread the Good Word. And of course, in case we get a problem like this one again, you'll be here to help." She opens a door leading to a small but pleasantly furnished bedchamber, smelling of something sweet and floral. "Please, come inside. I'll just grab your money now." She shuts it as he follows her in. "I won't lie - you'll never be rich as part of our clergy - not in gold at least - but you'll always have a roof over your head and food in your belly. And I assure you, your more pressing needs will always be sated, too..."Eran followed behind Emara, trying – and failing – not to stare at her scantily-clad ass. The sight was not helping with his erection. “I... can't say that I have,” he admitted after a moment, a bit surprised by the question, “What does being a priest of Ysvela entail, exactly?” he asked, curious.
The elder elf gets onto her bed on her hands and knees, moving down its length, before she reaches her bedside table. Opening it, she withdraws a coin purse. She tosses it to him, but doesn't leave the bed.

"And there's another task, of course - a most pressing one." She smirks. "Making new priestesses..."