• PM To Join • Liberty Meet Tyranny

Noth visits the Lady Libertine.

Seated on the shores of Lake Lovalus, Rharne serves as the home of the Lighting Knights, the Thunder Priestesses, and the Merchant's guild. This beautiful trade city is filled with a happy and contented people who rarely need an excuse to party.

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Noth
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Liberty Meet Tyranny

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Vhalar 31, 717

Noth hadn’t realized it before, but he genuinely hated the ocean. He had always had a slight fear of the deepest and darkest parts of the water where the largest and fiercest creatures resided, but the remainder of the great seas had been regarded with some level of apathy. They existed, but other than the occasional fishing trip or attempted crossing of a small bout of water, he had never really given much thought to the massive bodies of water. He had never attempted crossing the Orm’del Sea either, and that had proven to be a struggle befitting of his Book of Legends. It was not that the Sea had been overly atrocious to them, though there had been a few temporary scares regarding the lashing of waves against the boat and a particularly rough storm that had frightened the hybrid quite horrendously, as well as a couple of other incidents, but rather it was the feeling of having to wait that truly wounded the Avriel.

Anxiety had wrapped its way through his bones by the third trial, and he found himself staring into oblivion, his mind working rapidly as it attempted to conceive of the many dealings of business which needed to be taken care of once he had arrived. Eventually, he had been conscripted by the captain of the vessel to assist to some extent in the running of the boat, despite the fact that he had paid full price for the luxury of avoiding labor. It seemed that the bearded fellow knew exactly how to draw in free labor, however, because Noth found that he was far more willing to work than simply sit about doing nothing, and in time, he had grown quite used to shuffling around crates and other heavy objects for the sake of the ship’s captain.

Meanwhile, Slip and Ears had accompanied him on his voyage. Slip had been chipper and excited as normal at the prospect of visiting the city and of seeing all of its many sights, and he had acquiesced to her demand that they spend at least a couple of trials just exploring as opposed to making the trip entirely one for business. She wasn’t nearly as strong as any of the crewmen; though she could probably match Ears in an arm-wrestle, scrawny fellow that he was, but she had volunteered quickly to assist. The twilight hybrid had honestly expected her to try to contribute somehow below decks, helping navigate or plot charts, despite knowing that she had no experience with either.

She had instead spent the majority of the trip at the top of the Crow’s Nest, competing with the official fellow meant to keep watch there for the right of sitting within the small and confined place. Whenever she would lose, she would settle for simply sitting upon a sail, wrapping her legs around the thing with a confidence befitting someone who had wings. Noth; even being half-Avriel, couldn’t imagine himself ever sitting in such a precarious location, and tried not to look too much at her for fear he would catch a glimpse of her falling before an inevitable splat.

Ears on the other hand had chosen a far safer past-time, choosing to assist the kitchen staff with their work. It was surprisingly slow-paced below decks, especially since the staff had nearly the entire trial to get the meals ready for their crew, and even then it was often as simple as simply unboxing a couple of crates and mixing some ingredients together. He seemed to enjoy the relative calm, and Noth had even spotted him sporting a smile a couple of times throughout their voyage after one of the cooks had given him compliments on his steady work. Certainly, he wasn’t terribly great at the work, but every now and then he got something right, and that positivity latched onto him like a parasite, remaining for trials afterward.

Finally, on something like the thirtieth trial; he hadn’t been counting for fear he’d go mad with anticipation, they finally came within view of the Rharnian shore. The city was majestic and bright as he had expected, and Slip had quite literally squealed in excitement at the prospect of finally going ashore. The lighthouse had been snuffed out in the brightness of daylight, but it stood ready, a welcoming guide to any ships which would require its services later that night. The docks were wooden, but they weren’t nearly as rickety as some he had seen in the past. Nevertheless, the real attention-getter was the massive mountain before them. The city seemed to spiral out of the rock, as though it had been carved directly from it, a massive act of engraving, and atop the mountain lay the mighty bastion of the cursed Immortal who resided there.

For all of the beauty, however, Rharne was not without its seriousness. The hybrid stepped off of the boat with his companions, hearing the slight struggle of movement to his right as a pair of young soldiers; Noth could not tell what division they belonged to, nor what organization, simply that they wore light armor and had blades, worked to pull a drenched and soggy body from the docks. They untied the bindings which had trapped the form there and promptly settled it into a nearby cart likely requisitioned for the collection of dead prisoners. A curtain was placed over it, and the final thought the hybrid had on the matter was that the body had been so terribly soaked that he could not even tell whether its bloated flesh was male or female.

They had been admitted to the city with relative ease, though the hybrid thought he recognized the slight flicker of contempt in the eyes of the port official. Even with his vile nature, the hybrid knew better than to question the glance, and instead took it in stride.

That first trial was spent resting. The boat by planning would not be leaving from the Rharnian shore for several more trials, and whilst they were within the city, they had been allowed to remain in their bunks on the condition that they either work upon the boat and the docks for the duration, or else find their own food and supplies until they began to trip back. After all, space might have been free, but food was certainly not something that the captain could just spare recklessly.

The next trial was far more productive, with the trio searching and scouting around the assorted marketplaces and sights of Rharne, avoiding the sight of the local law enforcement agencies wherever they had a chance. Obviously they hadn’t committed any crimes yet, but the hybrid certainly didn’t want to give them a chance to discriminate, and he knew that his kind were unlikely to be welcome. Despite his clear avoidance, he took other precautions as well, wearing the standard cloak and hood which he often wore whilst in Etzos to ensure that he would not be recognized. It was a relatively baggy outfit which meant there was plenty of room for him to hide his wing without needing to reveal it to others, and the slight darkness of dusk was enough to cause the twilight-feathered Avriel to effectively meld into his hood.

Asking around in order to locate the nearest criminal organization had been suspiciously difficult, and the hybrid blamed the issue both on his lack of nativity to Rharne and the general caution exhibited by those who performed in such clandestine clans. The hybrid despised skulking around in the alleys, especially given his appearance, and so that particular task had been assigned to Slip who was far more persuasive than he in… loosening lips, as it were. After a couple of busts, however, they had been informed to stop looking into things like that, and instead to ‘relax and take a load off at the Lady Libertine’.

If that wasn’t a hint, then the hybrid wasn’t entirely certain what was, and so, as night fell and the doors to such garish places became more opened, the Prince of Eternal Mercies and his retinue went to visit, opening the door to the establishment and promptly finding their senses assailed with… something different, but altogether familiar.




word count: 1398
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As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Theo Nji'Ryn
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Just over a season into its grand opening, the Lady Libertine was already proving itself to be a wildly profitable venture. With all that it had to offer, all of it the finest quality, the city's newest brothel and social club tended to attract all sorts. A mixed lot with a variety of tastes, except that they all tended to have one thing in common. They had nels to spend, and plenty of them. And if they didn't, they tended not to stay very long. The Lady herself had very little use for them then. Still, Rharne, with all of it's hedonistic tendencies and even those of the Immortal that the city was founded upon, was the perfect place for an establishment such as this.

At any given time, the common room or the upstairs could play host to off duty Lightening Knights, merchants, local or regional politicians, or simply the idle rich. It was no different this evening, and the place had filled up shortly after the doors had been opened. Suffice to say, many of the guests had already been escorted upstairs by any one of the beauties employed there. But there were a few that loitered downstairs, seated at the bar or off in a corner enjoying a drink and a cigar while a girl sat draped around them, curled up on a couch or perched on the arm of a comfortable chair.

Still, it wouldn't come as any surprise that several sets of eyes fixed themselves on the half-Avriel creature stalked through the doors. Noth's type wasn't exactly warmly welcomed, even in a city that in general championed a live and let live view of the world. There were always exceptions after all. It wouldn't be the Avriel's imagination playing tricks on him, if he thought that some of those glances were suspicious seeming ones. One wing or two, it didn't seem to matter. Still, it was the man behind the bar that was watching Noth the closest, him and his companions. Clayton, security, barkeep, handler, a jack of all trades. The man was tall, built heavy and strong. His shirtsleeves were rolled halfway up his powerful arms and he wore a beaver felt bowler on his head.

Clayton's cheeks were rosy and he had a friendly, jovial looking face. But like so much else at the Lady Libertine, looks could be deceiving, and they frequently were. He looked Noth over with a thin, seemingly welcoming smile. But there was a flicker of contempt in that glance all the same. "Something I can do for you stranger? You looking for company? A drink, or both?" he asked, of Noth in particular. Meanwhile he glanced at a young woman who was perched on a stool nearby, and had been studying the half-breed from the corner of her eye, and said something to her under his breath.

A beauty who went by the name of Brandi, petite and curvaceous with medium brown hair that was swept up in curls that ended up tumbling down onto her shoulders again. A heart-shaped face, large flashing eyes, pouting lips and enough sass to more than satisfy those that liked that sort of thing. In response to an apparent request from Clayton, she got down from her perch and sauntered past Noth.


She slowed down as she drew near and passed him, and somehow managed to convey; with swaying hips and expression, a lift of her chin and flash of her eyes; derision, curiosity and a come hither plea all at once. She knocked once, softly on a set of double doors not far from the bar and after a trill or two, stepped through them and disappeared. Apparently she'd been given a message to deliver. And deliver it she would.
Last edited by Theo Nji'Ryn on Wed Oct 04, 2017 9:28 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 643
Every crowd has a silver lining.
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Zana
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What a strange and unusual group had just walked in to the Lady Libertine, Zana thought to herself as she lounged on one of the couches in the reception area. The woman who watched them was, quite obviously, one of the prostitutes who worked here. Her red skirt was short, almost indecently so and her long legs were stretched out as she lay on her side, observing. For all that the skirt of her outfit was short and the two strips of red fabric which tied behind her neck kept her modesty, there was a lot of flesh on show, but all of it promising what was beneath the fabric, revealing nothing. The woman who lounged there looked at them from beneath her lashes, her ice blue eyes stark in her pale skin. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a style which accentuated her neck and she watched them with interest in her expression.

Zana Delroth, for such was her name, leaned back and watched them. Not just the one in charge, not only the one in front. All of them, each one. How they moved, how they stayed still. Their clothing, too, she considered, her eyes trailing over their bodies each one. As she appraised them, individually, with the aim of spotting hidden weapons or other clues, she bit her lip with a hungry expression on her face. Yet, underneath that, she seemed amused.

Clayton sent Brandi to the office and Zana kept her gaze on the newest visitors. What were their reactions to her, the mortalborn whore wondered. She was, after all, the most expensive of the workers on offer at any given moment and she knew her own desirability. What these people wanted would be able to be determined, or at least clues given to it, by how they responded to her, lounging on the couch, fingers of one hand trailing over her leg, across her stomach and between her breasts. Catching their gaze, as she finished her appraisal of them, Zana smiled.

What Theo would want to do now, she did not know, but Brandi had told him about the visitors. If they were here to spend time with any of the whores, then their handlers would want to be around, Theo was very cautious to ensure that his girls were treated well. Slowly unfurling her long legs, Zana stood, her black high heels giving her even more height and she walked over to the bar, There, she perched on a stool and waited. They had seen what was on offer, but what they were here for was, as yet, unclear.
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Noth
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The brothel was certainly more elegant than what the twilight hybrid and his companions had imagined, but that was fitting with the theme of their visit thus far. Rharne seemed to be a place high above pitiful Etzos in terms of luxury and beauty, and that majestic standard seeped into even the most garish types of establishments. That wasn’t to say that the Lady was ugly, but rather that the hybrid thought that its particular type of service was not something he would be interested in ever perusing. No, in fact, with the richly furnished chairs and couches and stools scattered around the place, and the young women flamboyantly or scarcely dressed lying about the place, the Lady Libertine was just as beautiful as its host city.

Of course, just because Rharne was a relatively pretty city did not mean that it did not have ugly spots, and the hybrid’s memory quickly flickered back to the method of execution he had seen exacted upon first reaching the city. Naturally, that meant that there would be more run-down establishments peddling similar goods and services as this one, but the relatively high-class nature of the Lady seemed to draw in those who preferred to spend additional nel for the sake of being more exclusive in their habits. Elitism seemed to bleed its way across nearly every social facet, and whilst the hybrid did not implicitly despise the idea for certain scenarios, he could certainly understand why some people found it to be inefficient and unlikable.

The twilight hybrid felt eyes flicker towards he and his posse, analyzing them with a hint of distaste painting their features. They had paid good nels to be allowed to saunter around the room, and they certainly didn’t enjoy the idea that some misanthropic abominable avian could simply step into their space without looking the least bit deferential to them; the experienced veterans and customers of the place. The murderous Avriel would not be cowed by their glances, however, and he met each one, glaring with hate-filled eyes towards each and every one of them which dared to stare at him like he was an animal until finally their discomfort reached a climax and they returned to their chosen companion, whether that took the shape of a mug or an hourglass.

There was one particular person who refused to look away, but he had every right to continue his observation; he worked here, after all. The Avriel watched him for a few moments, taking careful note of his musculature and coming to the conclusion that he could probably double as a bouncer in a moment’s notice in case one of the scum here became too rough with their companions. The hybrid and his retinue meandered over towards the rosy-cheeked fellow who promptly questioned whether they desired company or drinks. The Prince considered making a blatant play such as requesting the attention of the manager, but he also recognized that he was unlikely to make much progress that way, and that if he were not a paying customer, they would likely attempt to evict him before he could accomplish his goals.

“I’m not sure myself yet, let me peruse. My friends here will take an ale each.” He nodded towards Ears and Slip, gesturing them forward and sliding the requisite number of nels upon the tables. “I won’t stop you from getting companions if you desire it, but you pay for it if you do.” He uttered, laying his attention primarily upon Slip for a few moments who responded with a mischievous grin.

The barkeep uttered something to the side to a young brown haired girl who promptly removed herself from her stool and began to step across the facility towards an office buried off to the side. She was pretty enough, but not truly the type of the Avriel, and whilst he observed her strut until she had removed herself from sight, it was not the same lusty wander of the eyes that commonly plagued his kind.

Noth returned his eyes to a scan of the remainder of the interior, allowing them to lay upon a rather attractive woman lounging upon a couch. She wore a red dress which ended far too shortly to be modest, and showed off her flesh rather nicely. The hybrid bit down upon the thought, but his analysis continued, taking notice of the way that she bit her lip in an arousing manner. She was watching them, and that seemed to hint that the expression was being performed for them as opposed to being caused by them. The hybrid knew that he was not an inherently attractive person, and he also recognized that he was in fact rather hideous in appearance, and he sincerely doubted she was trying to draw the attention of scrawny and paranoid Ears or chatty and gregarious Slip.

If the woman paid close attention in her observations, she might notice the miniscule bump upon the hybrid’s hip, pressing against the cloth of his cloak and revealing the outline of a mace. It was not that the Avriel was attempting to hide it, however, and whenever he stepped it would be briefly visible through different angles if one were to look for it, but rather it was simply the most convenient area to place the peace-bonded tool.

Admittedly, the hybrid found himself gradually being drawn in by the ministrations and gestures of the scarlet-dressed lady, and whilst he recoiled whenever he recognized the terrible thoughts that pervaded his mind, that did not necessarily stop him from revisiting them a trill later when his reservations had been dispatched. He was personally inexperienced in the activities which combined into copulation, and whilst that relative lack of experience made him a poor critic, he imagined that sharing a bed with her would be something pleasurable to a legendary extent. He thought back to his beloved who waited for him near Etzos, and bit down upon his tongue, pressing the teeth into it for several trills until the pain had overflowed any desires he had felt. She would never know if he capitulated to his baser desires, but he would know, and that was enough for the hybrid.

Still, his wandering thoughts had managed to strike upon a rather subtle plan, and now that he was back under his own control as opposed to his thoughts being controlled entirely by the seductress, then he began to further elaborate the formulated thought. With confident steps, the Avriel stepped around his companions, drawing nearer to the woman who now sat at the bar, his talons clattering upon the floor with each gentle step until finally he was beside her. Finally, he slid onto the stool beside her, facing her directly and tilting his head to the side as though he were considering purchasing a product, and in a way, he was.

“What beauty.” He uttered quietly, just loud enough to draw her attention before he roughly coughed into his hand, as though the thing had been a nervous utterance and not an intentional one.

“Apologies, my own kind do not possess such brilliant aesthetic as you possess. I was caught off-guard.” If he was even capable of displaying a blush, he might have tried, but his feathered hid his flesh, and that was of a blue tint anyways which made the entire process difficult. Besides that, he was not an expert deceiver by any means, and attempting something such as that would have given away his entire ruse. In fact, he genuinely wondered whether she had already seen through it.

“Do… do you work here?”
Last edited by Noth on Mon Oct 09, 2017 7:54 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1284
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As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Ordinarily, by the time the Lady had opened her doors, Theo was out of his private office and on the floor. He could hardly focus on their guests, on making them happy and making connections from behind closed doors. And in these early trials since the place had first opened, those things were all the more important. There was the added necessity of making sure the girls were treated right and the odd unpredictable guests were behaving themselves, and Clayton could hardly manage it all on his own. He'd been delayed behind his desk that evening, tending to some of the more mundane aspects of keeping any business up and running at a profit. As business management went, you could hardly do better satisfaction wise than a house of ill repute but very good reputation. But inevitably there remained the less interesting facets. Misplaced crates of good liquor or the odd supplier attempting to pass off middling quality tobacco as the good stuff.

That was where Brandi found him, having come to deliver a message from Clayton. Theo was happy to leave the lists and ledgers for later. The girl preceded him out the door at the opposite end of the bar from where Zana and the half-breed were sitting, and with a pat on the bottom, the curvaceous brunette was back to work. A half-breed himself but of a different sort, he looked completely at ease in his surroundings. It only made sense, since in large part he'd designed them himself. Dark hair trimmed short with a slight mid-trial shadow on his face, a lean but athletic build and shocking blue eyes that could shift on a thought, he was dressed as well or better than some of the Lady's other patrons. He wore a blade openly, saying nothing of what might be hidden beneath the front panel of his coat.

But no amount of discipline, yet, had managed to conceal the edge he had to him. The intensity in the eyes as Theo scanned the room, even as he smiled congenially to any guests who might glance his way. He wasn't that far removed from the Dust Quarter. Just a few bits of carelessness there could end you up with a knife buried in your back. Flecks of burnt orange swirled briefly in otherwise blue eyes, in particular as he glanced Zana's way and settled briefly on the winged individual beside her. He smiled though, mildly, and nodded before Clayton grabbed his attention with a few comments spoken under-breath. "A drink and a cigar on the house. The good stuff," he uttered to the barkeep, after glancing again at those few gathered in the parlor.

That ought to smooth a few ruffled feathers, he hoped. In spite of Rharne's more typical approach of openness, of live and let live, there remained sensitivities and prejudices that would die hard, if they ever did at all. Theo on the other hand opted to strike a more advantageous and perhaps, profitable, balance. He was as discriminatory as anyone else. Maybe more so. But for entirely different reasons. A one winged Avrial wasn't exactly a common sight in Rharne. And never before at the Lady Libertine. They welcomed all sorts here, so long as they had nels to spend or were otherwise useful. It remained to be seen, in this case.

But Zana was working this new arrival and Theo was loathe to interrupt unless he was needed or it came to seem necessary. So rather than approach, he remained there at the far end of the bar, picking up the tumbler of brandy that Clayton had put there, and lighting a cigarillo that he'd pulled from his pocket. If she happened to look his way, however, he'd give her a quick wink and then return to observing, even as Brandi wrapped herself around a regular patron while heading up the stairs.
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Zana
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So many things to learn, Zana maintained, from simply keeping quiet and watching. Watching the avriel meet each gaze with cautious and baleful eyes. He was used to being stared at, and he had learned that eventually, staring back worked. Usually. Not always, of course, but then Delroth's daughter understood ~ or believed she did ~ his race at an intrinsic and instinctual level.

After all, her father so rarely made mistakes, so hated to be disappointed and the race this creature belonged to had disappointed Delroth. But then. When one compared the hideous looking creature and herself? Both she and they were creations of the Immortal and so who was he going to be disappointed and disgusted by? Well, it spoke for itself, really.

Watching. The avriel was watching Brandi, but he didn't want her. Zana was very used to looking at the men and women who came here and recognising who they wanted, and who they did not. Brandi was too rough around the edges for him, perhaps. Too much of a sway to her hips. Or maybe, he recognised that she wouldn't let him hurt her. Either way.

As she slid on to the stool, her movements fluid and somehow promising, she glanced down at Noth's waist. "A mace? Unusual choice. Blunt. Spiky." She didn't judge, people came here with weapons, so long as they were peacebonded as was the law in Rharne. However, she spoke it (not least so that both Clayton and Theo heard it) and smiled at him. He wanted her, she recognised and that made the smile genuine. For a moment, Zana considered using one of her powers on him, directing his gaze to a mirror and making him want her like he had never wanted anyone, but that was because he offended her by being alive. Him and his race would be better wiped off the face of Idalos.

Or plucked and cooked.

Lifting her drink to her lips, Zana was entirely aware of Theo as he entered the room. The bird in his office, after all, was her as she was him. Yet, she did not seem to notice, her focus on Noth. She watched him with an open appraisal as he approached her and sat on the stool beside her. What beauty, he said, and Zana's smile was slow and laconic, amused and full of promise. "Yes, it's a very beautiful place. Filled with expensive trinkets." His cough and apparent discomfort might even be true, she thought. He seemed out of place enough. But it was the purposely stuttering over his words which made her disbelieve what he said. The creature who had glared back at each and every person who had stared at him, the being who had walked in with such arrogance and so casually commanded the two with him? He would not stutter.

"Work here? Well, yes I do," she said and she leaned forward, closer to him until she had only to whisper. "I'm the most expensive trinket of all. That's because," her hand moved, casually and slowly trailing down her neck, continuing to move in a deliberately languid manner until it reached the strip of red fabric on her left side. There it stopped, although one twitch would be enough to move it. She continued what she was saying as though there had not been a pause, "that's because I am the most enjoyable. Would you like to find out?" Ice blue eyes regarded him, unashamed and genuine in their gaze; she was intrigued by this strange creature and what it was doing here.

And if it was for no more than most came here for? Well then she'd show it what a true child of Delroth understood about beauty.
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Noth had never been to an establishment of recreation at the par of the Lady Libertine. It was not that the hybrid did not enjoy the prospect of having a good time, and whilst he could not truly recall a time he had been absolutely drunk with alcohol, he could certainly enjoy a glass or two once in a while. No, instead the issue had always been that the hybrid was far too busy to ever allow for him to occupy his time relaxing and resting and making merry with the other denizens of the world. Beyond that, the way that his mind worked, the way that he focused all of his attention on his plots and schemes had left any semblance of a social inclination to be somewhat destitute beyond what was necessary to constitute a frightening visage or to issue a new proclamation to his underlings. His isolation had nearly socially stunted him in that regard, and his anger and complete devotion towards his goals had further shattered any desire to rest in the arms of a purchased woman or to inject himself full of potentially harmful chemicals for the sake of relieving himself.

Now though? Now that he was actually in the establishment, Noth could feel a part of himself which simply wanted to engage in the hedonism. A part of him that had been buried under mountains of rage and scheming and plans had revealed itself to be very much alive, and it he felt his heart race somewhat when he looked upon the beauty of the harlot before him. It was not the same sort of thudding that ripped through him as when he was with his beloved, because that was a far more pure emotion, something more accustomed to the poems and songs than to the carnal acts. No, this was not a loving feeling, but rather something envious and greedy and lecherous in nature. He did not feel any personal attachment to the woman, but there was a desire there to become physically attached to her.

A flicker of movement caught the hybrid’s eye, and he glanced to the side to stare at a man who had appeared from the office where the woman from earlier had vanished. He wore clothes befitting nobility in their luxury, and the Avriel immediately questioned where he had managed to acquire such fancy garments. Truly, the business here must have been raking in far more nels with their lewd pleasures than he had originally believed. There was a weapon upon his side, and that coupled with the intense gaze that he levelled at all those in view was enough to convince the hybrid that he was searching for anything out of place, any signs of trouble which he could deter. There was little doubt that the man was probably proficient with his blade, and likely with any manner of hand-to-hand brawling. The opulence of his clothing, and that steely look convinced the hybrid that he was a man from the rougher parts of Rharne who had quite suddenly come into wealth, and now flaunted it about in ways that he had never been able to before.

Good. Greedy people were more likely to accept offers of additional money.

The man spoke something to the bartender, and moments later there were drinks and cigars being ferried out to the assorted patrons. One of each was offered to the Avriel, but he refused with a polite shake of his hand, it was too difficult to tell whether or not the entire thing had been some attempt by the patrons to get him to drink something or smoke something that would render him unable to carry out his scheme, and he had his hands full of vice enough simply sitting at the bar without partaking of its contents.

The young beauty before him spoke, making note of his mace, and the hybrid allowed a genuine grin to cross his face at the mention. He considered hefting it outwards to show her, but considered that the bartender and his boss might not take kindly to him swinging a weapon around their establishment.
“It’s good for getting through people too thick to reason.” He answered, shifting the thing back farther along his side so as to keep it out of sight and out of mind.

His compliment to her had apparently been misconstrued as a compliment to the establishment, and whilst the place was certainly nice by the standards of a brothel, Noth found himself internally wincing at the prospect of referring to the place as beautiful. Mountain ranges stretching on for miles were beautiful. The sky when it kissed the ocean at mid-morning as the blaze of the sun reflected off of it was beautiful. An establishment filled with a bunch of licentious men hoping to do dirty things to a group of depraved and sleazy women didn’t quite meet the requirements.

Still, her mistake in regards to his compliment seemed to pay off as she gave him a perfect way to change the topic to something he genuinely needed to discuss. She spoke of how the place was filled with expensive trinkets, and Noth was unsure of whether she spoke of the pretty young things flitting about the place, or of legitimate physical items which had been procured by the establishment. It was difficult to tell, but she referred to herself as an expensive trinket, and so he settled on the former more than the latter.

She leaned in closer to him, her breath lashing against the feathers above his skin with warmth, and immediately the sound of the hybrid’s pulsing heart returned to his ears. Unconsciously, the Avriel leaned in further to listen to the sweet nothings she procured from her lips, and he felt himself struggling to fight against the desire. Uncomfortable thoughts flocked to mind like carrion birds to a corpse, and he watched with intense focus as she trailed her hand down her own form, commanding his attention like a hound.

Like a hound.

Crimson eyes snapped to the bar, and he pulled himself away from her, unwilling to be controlled by her flesh. He cleared his throat an instant later, unbothered by the display that it insinuated, and spoke to her, having disregarded much of the sneaking and scheming that he had prepared mentally in favor of a more blunt approach. After all, the best plans were those with few steps and fewer places to make mistakes.

“I would like that… but that’s not why I’m here. Funny that you mention trinkets, actually, because that’s more… correct.” He paused to ensure that she was following thus far, smiling at her as he continued. “I’ve recently come into a fairly steady stream of trinkets. Armors, weapons, jewelries, and the like, but I suffer from a terrible problem.” He let out an exasperated sigh, as though he were truly plagued by the issue. "You see, I come from Etzos, and I fear that they would not be pleased with my goods were I to sell them there, and so… I am looking for somewhere else to market them, where they can be put to good use in exchange for a fair portion of the profits to whoever helped with the process.”

“Naturally, I came here, because if anyone knows anything, then you ought to.”
He smiled once more, the implication hanging in the air that the brothel would make an excellent location to gather intel. “I’d be… very grateful for help on this, but I understand if you aren’t able to assist me.” He chose his words carefully, making sure that he said ‘aren’t able’ as opposed to ‘aren’t willing’, because he thought he might challenge them to prove him wrong; people typically responded more strongly to challenges, even subtle ones.

Last edited by Noth on Tue Oct 24, 2017 3:00 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1319
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As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Theo Nji'Ryn
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It shouldn't come to any great surprise that from mid-bar, Theo watched and listened. He didn't make any great show of doing it. But there were any number of reasons for why he did. The half-breed wasn't a regular, or even a familiar face. And one that by nature tended to not be warmly embraced inside the gates of Rharne. All newcomers were watched, appraised, their behavior and spending habits appraised until they were either welcomed. Or rarely hustled out the doors either subtly or in rarer cases, not so subtly. This place was Theo's creation. Not his alone but he was the face of it nonetheless. Which meant that it was his responsibility to ensure that things went as they ought to and the Lady's reputation remained intact.

His interest, as it happened, was even more personal than that. All the women who worked for the Lady were ultimately his responsibility. But as Zana's handler, with her and Brandi besides, he might rely on Clayton to keep an eye on a few of the others. But Zana? No. Not her. He wore a curious expression behind his raised tumbler of brandy, when the half-breed rejected Zana's advances. Not what he'd come for? If Zana couldn't reel the man in, could't get him, then chances were he couldn't be got. At least not in that sense. Everyone had their weaknesses though. But apparently this wasn't it. At least not this night. If he hadn't seen the apparent interest in the women's charms, however, Theo might have assumed that his tastes were otherwise.

He wandered closer with no apologies. Clearly the man was interested in other business besides the enjoyment of bared flesh. But armor, weapons and jewelry? Those tended not to be the sort of things that were on offer at the Lady. What the man was suggesting, or at least what wasn't said but implied so far as Theo was concerned, could lead to trouble and a tarnishing of a reputation he was working hard to develop. He might have sent the man packing just then, if not for his own curiosity. And of course, the mention of profit.

He smiled at Zana, then extended his hand to the man. "Theo Nji'Ryn," he said by way of introducing himself. Owner, manager, it seemed self-evident enough. "And you are?" Once the introductions had gone by, he added, "We've got quite a bit on offer here at the Lady Libertine. Beautiful women, primary among them. The sort of goods you've mentioned however?" He smiled again and shrugged. "I'm curious. Generally speaking, I'm not aware of any laws prohibiting the sale of those things publicly. Why not openly then?" Theo added, suggesting that under that sort of circumstance, it hardly made sense to split any resulting profit.

In spite of the innocent seeming question however, Theo was no fool. He'd never have survived the Dust Quarter if he had been. There were any number of reasons why the man might not want to market those sorts of things openly. Some of them, related to the nature of the goods themselves. Or rather, how they'd been acquired in the first place. He'd rather not assume. Assumptions could be dangerous or at least, ofttimes there was too little gained by engaging in them. Could they help or would they? It remained to be seen based on the man's answer. But if he was looking for some sort of partnership, either from them or from someone else they might send him to, a name they might drop, there was always the question of ratios balance to consider. Business management being what it was in this case. Danger, risk, profit, reputation.
word count: 643
Every crowd has a silver lining.
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Zana
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Liberty Meet Tyranny

"I'm sure that you're very persuasive," Zana said and she smiled. However, he told her that he was not here for what she was offering and Zana's eyes trailed down his body, looking at him with an unashamed appraisal and she raised an eyebrow. "It may not be what you came here for," she said with a smile, "but it remains on the table." Either that or he'd brought a pet mouse in his pocket. It was always possible. Still, although her gaze spotted something (she thought), he wasn't reacting as much or in the way that she would have expected him to. He was interested she was sure, at least on a base level, but what desire he had seemed to be abating. He had been interested,but less so now. What had happened?

Who knew, when such a strange creature was involved?

Still, Theo's movements changed, he stood, he was getting ready to step in and Zana bit back a flash of irritation at him for doing so. Didn't he know that she wasn't done yet? Still, there was no point in arguing, she simply sat back, crossing one long bare leg over the other and lifting her drink to her lips. The cool water was pleasant and Zana spoke, just before Theo arrived. He could, undoubtedly, hear what she said when she answered. "Oh, I see. Well, I'm afraid that's out of my realm of experience. I provide pleasure, but I can introduce you to who you need to speak to," she smild and then Theo was there.

When Theo arrived, Zana's body language changed. She leaned against him, her eyes remaining on Noth as the two of them spoke. There was no doubting that she deferred to the half-biqaj who was her handler, it was in her body language, her gaze. She didn't do more than lean against him, until Theo had reacted to her and her presence. His reaction would determine hers, especially in this circumstance.

Theo asked his question and, once Noth had responded, Zana looked between the two of them and gave a slight smile. "If you two gentlemen are going to talk business, would you like some company?" Her ice blue eyes wandered between the two of them and a mischievous grin lifted her lips. "If you want, of course." She wasn't going to be illustrating her part in the business unless Theo wanted her to, but instead she played a role and left it at that. It might be that Theo wanted her there to hear what happened, or it might be that he'd rather she got back to work and that was fine too. Either way, she thought that she was at least a distraction to the mace-wearing feathered freak. At best, she was a weapon against him in the negotiations, if such happened. Either way, she smiled at Theo and asked him, with all semblance of demure, "Where would you like to put me, dear heart?"
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Noth
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Sometimes it was difficult to tell who was listening to one’s conversations. One of the finer elements of subterfuge, in fact, relied upon the fact that sound was not inherently private, and so words and phrases and plans that might have remained secret if they had never been uttered became suddenly apparent to those seeking them. Oftentimes it was to the detriment of the person who had spoken that others heard of their schemes or were able to interpret the fundamentals of whatever conversation they had been enveloped in, but Noth was actually benefiting from others listening in on what he was espousing to the young woman before him, and so he graced the sudden appearance of the man with the intense gaze with the slightest flicker of a smile across his feathered visage.

She had led to his introduction nicely, but he sincerely doubted that she had signaled him to them in any way; he had been watching carefully for such a sign, and had discovered none, though perhaps it was simply so subtle that he had not seen it. The harlot before him seemed fairly adamant about her proposal to take him towards a backroom, but now that his mind had shifted to the affairs of business, any arousal that might have been created by her less-than-subtle seductions was beginning to fade away in the wake of a shifted mindset.

The man introduced himself as Theo Nji’Ryn, not bothering with the formalities of shaking hands or of any of the subtler pleasantries accompanying introductions. That further added to the inference that the hybrid had made that the owner of the establishment was from a far more violent and destitute background than the one with which he now surrounded himself. That was not shocking; for all of the marble pillars that graced monuments and beautiful structures, there was always some layer of wooden foundation, of material not quite as pretty within, and for all of the glamor and glitz of the Lady, it seemed that its foundation lay upon dirt and squalor more than upon the gems and gold it adored.

He reiterated the offer of pleasurable products on display, but he would not have come over if that had been his entire purpose. Action always had consequence in mind, or else it would not have been performed in the first place. He continued, stating his curiosity although it was implicit, and made a comment on how he was unaware of any laws prohibiting the commerce which the twilight hybrid sought. It was true that there were not any technical laws which forbid the transfer or purchase of weapons, armor, or jewelry around the city of Etzos, but he doubted that the unspoken reason for his desiring the distant market of Rharne was not lost upon the man who had arisen from so little to so grand.

“You’re quite right. Weapons, armor, jewelry, the exotic items I come across one and all are not prohibited in and of themselves.”
He smiled, passing his crimson gaze directly towards the fellow, though he made certain to keep the harlot in his peripheral vision.
“I’m afraid, however, that the items I personally come across are quite prohibited. I imagine the taxes they’d enact over their sell would be absolutely deathly to myself and my business.”
Words were always chosen so carefully by the Avriel, always planned out to convey just the meaning he desired, but there was always the clumsy fault of language that what he wished to display could just as easily be misconstrued as it had been earlier with his compliment of the girl. Deathly, he had said in relation to the tax. A tax was a price taken by the government of a region as payment, thereby, if the tax was deathly, it would imply that the price taken by the government would be reminiscent of death. In short, they would kill him.

“Naturally, those same goods could find markets here that they might have difficulty reaching there, and I understand that the selling of such things would not be quite so restrictive hither as thither.”
He smiled once more, absent-mindedly meandering his feathered fingers towards a nearby drink before yanking them backwards and allowing them to instead fall heavily upon the counter-top.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to burden anyone I did business with here with any of the legal troubles I might retrieve from home, so naturally there would need to be at least some semblance of confidentiality around the whole matter. It seems drastic, but… with profits on the line, who can be too careful?”
He uttered a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head slowly as though it were a familiar topic that they could all relate to, and in a way, he hoped it was such. It was not as if though this particular scheme carried much danger for those involved on this side of its operation, but sometimes people became far too paranoid to properly do business, and that became nothing more than a hassle to those who were intent upon financing themselves and their future operations.

The lustful prostitute spoke once more, apparently questioning whether or not her presence was actually desired. The hybrid felt conflicted on that particular subject at an internal level. On the one hand, he was desirous of her form and the potential pleasures that it could bring when coupled with his own, but on the other hand, he recognized that her presence could be used to cause him to lose his guard in the midst of negotiations. Either way, the inability to properly choose whether or not she would leave or stay saved him some turmoil, and so instead he simply looked a final time upon her with a look of ravishment before returning his full attention to the businessman before him.



word count: 983
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As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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