Just a small portion of the log about Jaired's romance novel. A better, edited log, to follow.
She is holding a slick-covered romance manual in her right hand. (Hiraani, the merchant)
Speaking to Hiraani, Jaired says, "Why that looks like a pretty good read."
Speaking to Jaired, you ask, "Did you write that yourself, or other's work of collections?"
Hubris says, "Does it come with pictures? He may need it."
You say, "Just please tell me it isn't a pop-up book..."
(OOC) Hiraani's player whispers, "Oh Good Lord."
(OOC) Issalya's player whispers, "LOL that would be awesome."
Hubris says, "Well, he wins. Plainly and simply."
(OOC) Hiraani's player whispers, "I'm just dying here."
Jaired shows you a slick-covered romance manual, which he is holding in his right hand. The manual has a hard cover, overlaid with a glossily lacquered painting. The subjects of the art, if it can be called that, are a man and a woman, locked in a torrid embrace. Caught in the moment, the woman's bosom is in the midst of heaving, barely covered by a silky thing, while the dark haired man's chest is bare, his shirt unbuttoned and whipping in the wind of a salty sea spray-laden air. Someone has scratched over the man's face, deeply incising a half-mask over his features. Bound into the manual are pages of silvery paper.