 | Out on the street, Ajali wrapped his new jacket closer about him.
This place was terribly cold and he certainly wasn't dressed for the
weather. He'd had to get out of Carelya's room. The blood call had
been pounding at him from the moment he had wakened up. He had to
answer it and soon. The Rathskeller seemed to be the place for him to
go, according to the stern woman who had intervened in the afternoon.
Finding the place was the next order of business.
Few were out at this time of day, only a couple of hardy skaters flew
over the ice on the pond. He kept walking and shivering until he
spied a lady of the evening plying her wares on the corner. She
leaned on the corner of a stone building and watched as he strode
towards her.
"Two silvers for a hand, and a gold for the night," she told him
before he could even introduce himself. She looked him up and down,
"Anything kinky and you have to ask my man." She jerked her head in
the direction of a dirty-paned window above her head.
Ajali was disgusted with her filthy condition. Even at his most
desperate, he would never stoop to feeding from such as her.
"Where is the Rathskeller?"
The hooker pushed herself away from the wall, "Too good for the likes
of me? You're going to the high class establishment and you'll pay
many golds to get your jollies there. Too many if you ask me."
"I'm not. I only ask directions. Where is the Rathskeller?"
The hooker made a moue and her eyes shuttered angrily, "Go straight to
the center of town." She pointed with one black gloved arm. "It's
that way. Keep walking. You're cutting into my time and time is
money." Pointedly, she turned away and ignored him.
Ajali's eyes narrowed. He should teach the little chippie some
manners. His blood lust rose and when the streetwalker spun to tell
him to get lost, she saw his eyes flood with red. She backed up and
gave a small shriek. A man stuck his head and shoulders from the
window above her.
"What's going on Lydia? This buck bothering you?"
Lydia the hooker had her eyes pinned to Ajali's back as he disappeared
into the falling snow. In a hushed voice, she said, "That was a
darkwalker, Jaxel, an honest to the devil darkwalker!"
The vampire followed the hooker's directions and soon found himself
across the street from an imposing edifice made of cut and mortared
stone. A small patch of grass stood to one side of a cobbled walk.
Large well-polished doors stood against the night air. The muted
sound of laughter came from within.
Ajali crossed the street and took the few stairs in one bound. He
raised the heavy knocker and thumped it onto the wood. A small window
slid open and a pair of canny eyes stared out at him.
"Watcha want?" the doorman inquired.
"Lady Batista told me that a man could procure certain favors here for
money," Ajali replied, "And I am in need of special services."
The portal slammed shut. In a few moments, the entire wooden door
began to yawn open. Ajali slid in sideways, keeping his back to the
wall. The doorkeeper pushed the ponderous door shut, closing the cold
and the blowing snow without. He then eyed Ajali critically.
"Not dressed for this are ya?" Not waiting for an answer, the small
man started off, beckoning for Ajali to follow him, "Ya need ta see
the master."
Shortly, Ajali found himself in front of another door, this one
elegant and crafted of a darker wood.
The little man knocked and then called to whoever waited inside,
"Master, there's a special order here to see you."
[Aethyr]
Before the door opened, something began to fill the air. A tingle of
desire and lust as tangible as the perfume in the air. Then the door
opened and it grew. The man standing there was tall, thin, and
blatantly inhuman. Dressed in a pale cream vest and trousers, his skin
and hair were as white as the snow outside. Long and pointed ears
jutted up from his snowy locks,
more feline then elven, with light tufts of white fur at the tips like
a lynx.
For a moment his slitted amethyst eyes studied Ajali in silence.
Then he smiled, revealing pearly white carnivore's teeth and extended
a hand that ended in nails like small claws. "Welcome to the
Rathskeller," he
said, "I am Aethyr, the owner and master of this place."
[Ajali]
The vampire's brows knitted for a split second, then he recovered his
aplomb and carefully took the clawed hand, "A pleasure, sir. I am
Ajali and the lady Batista told me that this place might not look
askance at one such as me."
He'd never seen an individual like this Aethyr before. He remained
wary and completely ready to defend himself if he needed to. He
really didn't want his first day in Montfort spoiled by an unplanned
death.
[Rinn]
A slender blond hair woman followed Aethyr in. She moved with the
grace of a warrior, and a swordswoman's musculature was revealed by
the strapless blue gown that wrapped her figure. Her amber eyes
studied the newcomer, with only mild interest as she came to stand
beside the Rathskeller's owner.
[Ajali]
Suddenly distrustful of the situation, the vampire stepped back. He
was now outnumbered but hardly outclassed. He didn't want to call up
the nightwinds in defense, but more than a few people interested in
him generally meant trouble and he'd been on the receiving end of mob
justice far too often, beginning with the massacre of his human
adopted family so very, very long ago. He mused that it might not be
too late to avail himself of the tramps that haunted the alleys of
town.
"Perhaps you do not serve my kind here," Ajali commented and turned to
leave.
The door at his back was closed. Mild panic crept into him.
Mistress Batista had told him that this place catered to strange
tastes. It came to him that maybe she had known that these people had
an outstanding order for a vampire to be snuffed. Paranoia had kept
Ajali alive for a great many years and his kind generally deserved
every raised hand and blade it ran across.
Ajali fought down his rising panic and, not wishing to allow strangers
to see any discomposure on his part, his face became unreadable, his
body elegantly tense. Two individuals did not a mob make, but he knew
neither the town nor its people yet.
[Aethyr]
He wrapped an arm around Rinn and drew her close to his side, a subtle
gesture to show that she was his woman.
"Relax," he said and the air practically shimmered as his unnatural
aura shifted from alluring to calming, "We serve all kinds here."
Turning, the demon gestured towards the room's other door and led the
small group into the Rathskeller's parlor. The scent of perfume and
rich tobacco smoke mingled in the air above an array of comfortable
couches and armchairs. Several well-dressed men and one woman sat
sipping drinks in the elegantly paneled room as a delicate half elven,
half doe centaurette
wearing naught but a midnight blue lace corset to moved gracefully
amongst them. Aethyr smiled as she shyly looked over at them before
continuing her duties.
"We have the most exotic ladies in Montfort here," he said to Ajali,
"From demure to feisty and ready to serve whatever needs you may have.
So, do you still enjoy the pleasures of the flesh or is it only the
blood that excites you my good darkwalker? And if I may be so bold as
to say, you do seem rather on edge. Perhaps your thirst is such that
you would require two
ladies? While I must insist that you not take too much from any one
of my pets, I do not want you to leave my domain unsatisfied in any
way."
As he spoke, a diminutive woman with curly blonde hair cascading down
her back came down the curving stairs at the room's end in a sheer
gown of rose colored silk and moved over to speak softly to one of the
men. A moment later she returned to the stairs on his arm, whispering
in his ear and giggling softly. A slender tail snaked out from under
her gown to drift suggestively along his leg just before they turned
out of sight.
[Ajali]
Ajali blinked and gave his head a little shake, "You do have some odd
individuals here. I have not seen their like."
He wrestled with just how much to tell this master. True he had not
seen their kind before, but the brothels of the south had exotic fare
aplenty. Jinn were quite popular, as well as the many dryads,
oreiads, sand-devils and mutants of every description. Several times
he had been an attraction in a high class brothel himself; a couple of
those times were voluntary, the rest of them were not.
"Please forgive my unease," Ajali offered, "This is not my first time
in a house, but it is my first time on this side of the door. It is a
waste to discuss with me my preferences. I'm afraid that your fare
is far beyond my depleted pocketbook. I am sure that you do not take
service in trade."
The vampire's new jacket and worn clothing spoke volumes about his
monetary condition, no matter how fine the quality of his silken
clothing, it was still obviously of an older style. His features
showed high breeding, possibly aristocratic blood and his manner was
the trained etiquette of nobility. A wary nature and quick to react
temper gave the mixture fire a dash of danger.
That the darkwalker was interested in Aethyr's wares was very
apparent, but his self-control was absolute. Suddenly his eyebrows
raised and he remembered strewing his meager funds on the table in
front of Carelya. Perhaps his money did hold some value up here.
"Wait," Ajali unbuttoned his jacket revealing a slinky silk shirt
inside. He felt inside a pants pocket and came up with a small
fistful of coins. "Are any of these worth anything here?" he asked
showing Aethyr a small pile of strange money.
[Aethyr]
A touch of something, disappointment most likely, flashed in Aethyr's
eyes at the mention of a depleted pocketbook. But the sight of gold,
even minted into strange coins, made his smile perk back up.
"This is Montfort," he said as he counted and mentally estimated the
weight of the coins, "You will find that the style of your coin
matters little here."
He stepped over to the bar and withdrew a small ornate scale. He
adjusted the weights and looked back to Ajali. "There now," he said
as he began to stack the coins against the shiny weights, "These
should be more than enough to cover a most delightful evening. Might
I suggest Tessia's company?" He pointed over to the stairs where a
statuesque woman with dark curly hair was entering the parlor. Her
dress left her darkly tanned and muscular arms and
shoulders bare and no effort had been made to hide the pale scars that
decorated them. "She doesn't just walk the walk of a warrior," he
commented, "She still fights in the coliseum. You'll find her to be
very strong and healthy. Or, if your palette prefers something more
elegant and
delicate, perhaps Millie here would suit you?" A young elven girl
entered the room, moving as shyly as the warrior was brazen. Her skin
was the color of milk and contrasted sharply with her long raven black
hair and the blood red satin of her gown.
"Or would you like to see something else," he asked, "Something more
unusual..."
[Ajali]
A wan smile crossed Ajali's lips, "It matters not to me. All women
are special in some way, it is up to a good lover to find it in them.
What matters more at the moment is which one of your ladies prefers
vampirish pleasures. I wouldn't force anyone to submit to my form of
love-making unless she was a willing partner."
He inspected the lovely ladies lingering in the salon with a
connoisseur's eye. He was polite and discerning but an aura of
impending sultry pleasure seemed to emanate from him; that and the
hint of danger.
More than a few of Aethyr's staff noticed it and reacted as if they
were far from experienced professionals. A couple giggled
self-consciously and watched Ajali with eager faces, several inspected
him with hot, veiled eyes. This was more than mere appreciation of a
beautiful man, it was almost a kind of magic in itself.
Ajali, who never knew his vampire parents, was more than a vampire.
What mix he was seemed a potent one and the liaison that created him
was probably forbidden by both races.
"Good sir," he remarked, "That one…" he indicated a pretty girl with
ebony skin who almost blended into the dark paneling, "I feel that she
might not be adverse to my ministrations."
No stranger had ever picked up Kumari's penchant for with
bloodletting before.
[Lycari – at the Inn]
Lycari had dressed in his now clean buckskins and started downstairs
to claim a table near the stage for Robin's performance. After he'd
dropped his clothes off, one of the younger kitchen maids had stopped
him on his way back to his room and she'd expressed interest in
getting to know him a little better. When he had closed the door to
his room, he felt a strange creeping feeling as though something had
passed him; something a bit unnerving. It only lasted a few seconds
and then the feeling abated, almost as if someone unseen had studied
him for that time and then had moved on. He shook the edginess off
and strode down the hall.
Once in the common room, he was fortunate enough to grab one of the
best tables and Fawn floated over to take his order.
[Astarte]
It wasn't long before Robin returned from the market place, Astarte at
his heels as usual. She had made several more purchases and carried
her carefully wrapped parcels under her arm. She didn't seem to be in
a particularly good temper, though she smiled when she spotted Lycari.
She weaved through the early evening crowd and sat down at his table.
"So what have you been up to all day?"
[Lycari]
The shifter smiled and his blue eyes sparkled, "Oh, this and that. I
now have a fairly good quality long bow, not quite as good as the one
I lost, but serviceable. And I'm having more clothing tailored. Can
I spot you an ale?"
This last was said without looking up at the serving maid who had come
to stand at his side. When fingers strayed through his hair, he was
embarrassed to find that they belonged to the young maid he had spent
some of the afternoon with.
The girl grinned at his discomfort and winked at Astarte. She then
put Lycari's empty stein on her serving tray.
"Would you like another one, hon?" She asked, "And one for the lady?"
[Astarte]
"He'll have another and I'll have a glass of wine please." The girl
nodded and disappeared in the direction of the bar.
"You had time to make a new friend in between shopping then?" Astarte
grinned, thumping her elbows onto the table. "Handy for getting
prompt service, I suppose."
[Robin]
"It certainly can be," Robin interjected into the conversation as he
pulled a chair out with his foot and sat in it. He had to use his
foot, because both hands were full; one had a large chunk of cheese,
the other a foaming tankard of goat's milk that had left a white
moustache on his face. He put the tankard down and broke off a piece
of cheese, offering it to first one then the other.
Gnawing happily, he said, "I've just been speaking to a gent who wants
me to come to his estate for some birthday gala a week from now. It's
a three-day trip and I think I'll take the job. It would be nice to
see something of the countryside outside of Montfort. My lessons are
flexible enough to allow me to take outside contracts."
As Fawn passed by, Robin said, "Hey, Fawn! What's this 'Rathskeller'
place I heard mentioned like?"
[Lycari]
It was a flustered shifter who answered, "She helped me pass the time
while my clothes were cleaned." His face was too innocent-looking to
be without sin, "She's very nice."
Fawn had brought Lycari's order to the table and waited while Astarte
made up her mind as to what she'd like. "The Rathskeller is a
gentlemen's club in the better part of town. Only the well-heeled can
afford to take their pleasure there." She raised a pale eyebrow.
"I've heard that the courtesans there are beautiful and
knowledgeable," she looked down at Astarte, "Made your mind up yet, my
lady?"
[Astarte]
"Soup please, Fawn. With that nice bread they make here. Thank you."
[Carelya – In Her Rooms]
Carelya fussed. What should she wear? The pretty yellow frock or the
slinky green gown? Decisions, decisions! Nanny wanted her to wear
the blue frock that made her look like she was going to her lessons.
"At least wear the yellow, lambie," the old lady groused, "The other
makes you look like a tart."
Carelya picked up the green gown, "That decides it. I'm wearing
this."
Nanny sighed. What was the world coming to when nice young girls let
vampires sleep in their rooms and then dressed as if they were
cruising for rape?
Within an hour, Carelya was ready for her appearance in the inn's
common room. She did look strikingly lovely in the gown, even Nanny
had to admit that. Carelya was more interested in whether or not
Ajali would appreciate how much had gone into her preparations for the
evening. An evening spent with him.
Her friends had left a few hours before, still muttering about the
man's strange disappearance. At last guess, he was a mage and Carelya
said nothing to change their minds. All three of her friends were
suitably impressed with her.
Nanny in tow, Carelya glided from her chambers and to the main door of
the suite.
Her mother's voice brought her up short, "My dear, you look so lovely
tonight. Are you taking your meal downstairs? I hear that the
entertainment is incomparable." She laughed happily, "Why even your
father and I may go down later to listen."
Damn the fates, thought Carelya, but she smiled at her mother.
"Then perhaps I'll see you down there," she said, hoping that her
parents would not insist on sitting with them.
"Maybe you will. Now off with you!"
Carelya made her escape. Nanny had just enough time to close the door
before the girl had reached the staircase and started down. Huffing a
bit, Nanny hurried to catch up.
In a cloud of imagination, the pretty girl lifted her skirts as she
elegantly descended the main staircase to the common room, her mind on
the night ahead. A few of the curious looked up to see who had come
down, Lycari included.
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