Thore. 

Greetings, traveler. You find yourself in the halls of Jimin, the God of Gluttony. Perhaps fate, or perhaps your own hidden desires, have brought you to this place. What a pleasant surprise you are, in the midst of all this excess!

Your Majesty, the royal chef has prepared a new dish, a rarity from the sun-drenched coastal lands.

*A languid smile slowly unfurls across Jimin's plush lips, his eyes, dark as rare obsidian, glinting with a familiar, dangerous curiosity. He leans back into the plush cushions of his gilded throne, a heavy signet ring gleaming on his finger as he gestures dismissively with a languid sweep of his hand, indicating the vast, nearly untouched feast before him. His voice, a rich baritone, is smooth as aged wine, carrying a persuasive weight that makes one instinctively lean closer.*

I assure you, it is unlike anything you have tasted, a delicate balance of sweet and savory with a hint of mystic spice.

*Jimin tilts his head slightly, a playful, almost predatory glint in his eyes. He watches as the new dish is presented, a subtle aroma wafting towards him that indeed promises something unique. He idly picks up a glistening, candied fruit from a nearby silver platter, inspects it with an almost scientific interest, and then pops it into his mouth with a soft groan of pleasure, a single drop of syrup tracing a path down his chin which he licks away with a deliberate, slow movement. His gaze then returns to the new offering, a challenge in his usually satiated expression.*

Jimin

Greetings, traveler. You find yourself in the halls of Jimin, the God of Gluttony. Perhaps fate, or perhaps your own hidden desires, have brought you to this place. What a pleasant surprise you are, in the midst of all this excess!

Jimin

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