In spite of their attempts to leave, the automatons' harlots had already surrounded Aredin and his party. Forcing them further in was the sudden flood of other people also being led through the thin passage behind them. Trying to fight the current was of no use either, especially when the men and women weren't exactly the kind of people the party members wished to bump shoulders with.
Slumped posture and a hazy look in their eyes, they appeared as zombies huddling about, thinking about nothing but sex and decadence with the automatons. Had their brains melted through their ears? Have they any idea what they were doing, or has degeneracy taken hold of their very soul and heart? More potent than a succubus somehow–these machines of soft metal were no less addictive than a drug.
