Private Tales Death's Inn at The Murky Goblet

The Murky Goblet, Hruugen had let out a private laugh at the name and it was much as he had expected.
Half full of people but every inch of the place thick with must and funk of all kinds. Muddy water, the crisp tang of vegetation determined to seek entrance and the tang of sweat.

In a word, life.

But his keen senses found another note to this aroma. Something was rotten and not just the wood of the floorboards. It was the smell of rotten flesh which he knew well enough. It was not covered in perfume or cleansing scents save for those already present.

He took a drink from the bar and paid promptly then turned to look upon the other patrons. He was hardly picky and ended up with a bitter dark port that felt heavier than it looked.
Plenty of the other people there might be considered smelly or even diseased but he saw no sign of the rotting sickness or the like.

It was then that he spotted a singular figure in the corner, the grey of his eyes landed on her as gently as a moth might and stayed just as innocently.
She was of Elf kind, pale and from her manner distinctly noble in manner and dress but that is where the sense of her ended.
Nobility seldom travelled alone and when they did they seldom looked noble while doing it. Yet she was in all appearance as calm in her surroundings as a spider in its own web.

The port tasted of dark bitterness, thick with iron and slightly warming in the belly and the young Monk decided he liked it.

He would not call himself any kind of detective, not really and he would be the first to admit that he was often wrong in his own mind of others but this woman radiated a feeling of death which he was also familiar with, as animals were. He noticed that even though flies and other things of the swamplands pestered many of the patrons, himself included, they left her well alone.

Nature rejected the unnatural.

She looked up, eyes hungry for something, perhaps she was looking for a friend or an enemy. It occurred to him that he may be the only one there who noticed her or had any inkling of what danger she may pose so he decided to pre-empt anyone else approaching her by doing it himself.

As her gaze swept the crowd he caught it and raised his glass in slow greeting, his thin lips smiling. He looked like a thin thing under his dark robes that hung in the foreign style of the Northlands.
The beads and charms that hung on rope and chord from his waste were of many religions, many ways of worship and all of them tied to death rites.

His appearance usually insighted interest in others, he was hoping this time he peaked this woman's.

Larewen Dragana

"Thank you!"
Hruugen smiled a bit wider as he sat, friendly and open.

Larewen's sight would find him almost blinding. The artifact about his neck, a simple stone to all others was one of the Guardian Stones, The Light Stone and while seemingly inert to those with magic sight it would be as radiant as its name suggests, eclipsing the more modest affinity of his weapons and charms.
Though she could tell he was protected in ways against simple undead, warded against minor evils and curses.

As for physical openings there were plenty or so it seemed. He sat calmly as though there was no danger at all and while he moved with purpose he was not reserved as some holy men are even as he craned his neck obviously to try and look at the book as she snapped it shut he took no offense. Her privacy was her own and he let his curiosity get the better of him.

"I suppose it would seem brave if you were my first immortal."

He did not catch her hushed addition to her statement and Hruugen was too busy thinking of his last drink with an immortal being. A dragon of all things, though guised as a human woman her power was scarce diminished and he knew then as he knew now that fear would profit him nothing.

As she took him in he took her in also, the details of her clothing and the rich smell of the cigarette, even how she sat told him something.
It told him that he was in the spiders web now and he wasn't getting out until she let him for which the best defence might be politeness.

"I don't get to sit and talk with many women who will outlive both myself and almost everyone else in the world but this makes two and I suppose that makes me more lucky than anything."

Another smile and he took a drink.

"My name is Hruugen, forgive me for I am new to these lands and do not know you. Might I have your name?"

Larewen Dragana

"Babe? I suppose I am to you. Not that I'd know much about ancestors. My apple landed very far from my family tree."

He gave another laugh to himself, his manners oddly were of an older man than his years which continued as the offer of a drink was refused. His face was one of simple bemusement until the very shapely server had left. His eye followed for a moment if only to make sure they were out of earshot before he spoke again.

"A little on the nose for a vampire, bloodwine I mean."
Not that Larewen was trying to be subtle. As soon as she leaned forward and killed her cigarette after a few impossible pulls he knew what she was. The signs were there, pale skin, the aversion of flies and the skilled but identifiable deliberate breathing.

"Oh this? It's more of a hand me down really."
He fingered the Light Stone as he looked down at it, having forgotten it was there again. Light, he had come to find, was more a concept than a hard rule.

"The previous owner died and I took up ownership. It's called the Light Stone. There's a very long and storied history but the short version is it chose me and even after a year I still have no idea why."
It felt strange to tell even that much to a vampire but he wasn't going to bother lying to her. Honesty was his armour.
The power within the stone was quiet to him. He could call upon it and sometimes he got the notion that it was trying to communicate in some way but he has yet to fully understand it.

"You have some interesting pieces yourself."
His slender hand gestured towards Larewen.
"I am sure many historians would be eager to get a closer look at them. Are they from your time? The gemcraft is excellent."
It was, he was no artisan but a cultivated appreciation for many crafts dwelled within Hruugen. A gift of his travels.

Larewen Dragana

Such a brazen question struck him like a blow and astonishment flashed upon his face beforeHruugen replied, looking about a bit.
"I won't lie though. The idea does have a certain appeal."
Tugging at his collar he followed the line of it down to where the stone hung and his eyes met Larewen's again calmly.
"There are those who have described the experience as rapturous which has me curious. Has that been accurate to your experiences?"

Again his slender fingers found the stone.
"It is certainly powerful. Though I have little use for such power. Aside from when I need to find my way in the dark."

His thin smile stayed even as he looked down at the wine. He was no stranger to ritualistic cannibalism but for the pleasure of the taste alone he had not taken of such things.
So he slid his own port to the side and took the glass with solemn reverence.
"Fahanu t'ch noot."
The soft prayer spoken was to acknowledge the giving of something precious, few things moreso than blood in almost any culture.

Hruugen drank with closed eyes and let the blood wine into his mouth through his fine lips.
It tasted of metal, that iron tang mixed with something sweet. An invigorating flavour as described but strangely hollow.
Once done and after he wiped both the rim of the glass and his mouth he returned the glass to the table, closer to Larewen.

"Certainly better than Allirian wine but I don't think I have the... pallet to fully appreciate it."
Laughing silently at his own little joke he sat back again after returning the glass.
"It's not blessed, if that's what you are thinking. Only a few words of passing respect, nothing that might effect one of your disposition."

At Larewen's third proposal he stopped to think.
"I suppose I may give it to someone if it wishes so. It has something of a will of its own I'm afraid."
Quietly he followed up with his own question having guessed at what Larewen might be thinking.
"What good would it be to you, this stone that produces light? I should think a being given to darkness would have little interest in such things."

The question was without judgement. Hruugen was not going to begrudge any creature its own nature, not even one that was in many cultures considered a violation of the body and soul. In his travels he had discovered how few willingly chose such an existence so he accepted the possibility that one such creature was before him now, no more responsible for their fate than a fly in a spiders web.