Private Tales A Night Out

[Larewen Dragana]

Larewen strolled through the richer districts of Alliria, her fancy garb a lot more common among the womenfolk here. An emerald bustle gown clung to her short frame, undoubtedly tailored precisely for her. Black gloves obscured the cursed flesh of her arm and hid only skin on the right. The ensamble complete with a dark cloak and a fedora upon her head, a dark veil covering her features. Each step of her thigh-high boots made a click against the stone pathway. Mismatched eyes swept this way and that, looking for any shop that might catch her interest. There was none, but she did find an inn.

The Gilded Horn Inn stood apart from the other buildings, but towered just as high as some of them. With three floors, there was plenty of room for the drunk nobles frequenting the Inn's downstairs bar to crash. Its sign bore golden letters detailing its name under an equally bright french horn, and rather than using iron to face its windows, they'd gone with golden bars. It complemented the dark stone they'd used to build the inn.

Noticing the doors of the establishment were open, Larewen clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Now here is a place to be, she thought. Stepping toward the entrance, she crossed the threshold into a brightly lit, and maybe a little too gold, foyer. A man stood directly to her left, catching her mismatched stare with curiosity. Then he approached her.

"You here for the bed or the bar?" he asked her.

"The bar," she answered.

"Just that way," he replied, gesturing to the doorway on the left.

"Thank you," she murmured as she stepped past him. The smell of cloves lingered in her wake, masking a dark, prickly sensation that some imbibers with magical experience might be able to feel. There was a bar in the room, and several sofas and chairs, made of plush fabric. Soft to the touch, yet just firm enough to the buttocks. Opting for comfort, she decided on a black and gold settee near one of the corners of the room. Maneuvering toward it, she lowered herself onto it, then turned so that she could recline. It gave her a perfect view of the entrance, which was oddly comforting this night.

Emmeryn

 

[Emmeryn]

Alliria was very different to the Bayou, that was an irrefutable fact at this point. Emmeryn didn’t come to this large city often, even if it was the greatest center of trade in Liadin, perhaps all of Arethil. Although, the Bayou was really were one should go if they wanted the good stuff. Or at least wait until Emmeryn made her rounds, only took about ten years to get where she needed to go, and that was including portal stones.

Traveling only at night had it’s disadvantages, more than Emmeryn would like to admit.

But the best part about being alive at night was getting to experience the nightlife. Especially in the last thirty years or so, it had really evolved and Alliria was at the forefront in offering all that could be offered, and those with coin got to experience all of it. Fancy bars, the sort that would never be put up in the Bayou, were aplenty in this city. The Golden Crescent Hotel boasted in having the best, and while Emmeryn was staying there, she had decided to go out and explore.

The third ritzy bar she saw was the one that made her decide to step inside and with her head held high she made her way straight to the bar top, with the men. At first, they seemed surprised by her boldness, even if her appearance matched a sort of timeless elegance. Simple yet monochromatic, her white and gold attire contrasting against her night-like skin.

Orange orbs looked at the men, without shape, and instead of a frown she grinned at them, tapping at the marble bar top with two fingers. When the bar tender came to her, she ordered the usual alcohol-focused cocktail, drinking it easily without so much a blink. When she shivered, she thought it was perhaps the alcohol.

But that frisson couldn’t be suppressed. Emmeryn turned her head, seeing the back of a woman. A dark brow rose curiously. Another of her kind? How… lucky.

“Two more,” Emmeryn told the bartender, holding up two fingers. Minutes passed as the bartender made the drinks, expertly layering the alcohol so that the crème de mure blended in perfectly with the intense scotch. After a orange twist garnish, Emmeryn paid her tab and added in some extra generosity, taking the two chilled martini glasses and heading over to the other vampire.

“Good evening,” Emmeryn said with a smile full of swagger, holding out a glass to Larewen. “It came to my attention that you and I had yet to meet before, such a shame, really, a face like yours to remember would be a blessing.” Was she flirting? No. Or, at least not flirting for the reason many would. It was always better to butter up future clients and expand business.

Larewen Dragana

 

[Larewen Dragana]

Larewen saw Emmeryn enter, and her mismatched gaze followed the woman with curiosity. Her dark skin, those orange eyes... they were unique. What she didn't expect was the woman approaching her where she sat. Sometime between their entrance, she'd fetched a glass of wine, which she picked up and finished now. Her lips pinched together, the wine a little too dry for her taste.

She watched Emmeryn come closer to her with the two drinks, curious and pleasantly surprised when the woman stopped at her table and offered the glass. Larewen took it, eying it carefully. She swirled the glass a little, finding it to be quite different than her usual drink. Nonetheless, she reached a gloved hand out to the glass and took it from the woman.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sweet like silver bells. "What is this exactly?"

As she awaited the answer, she brought the glass to her lips and sniffed. After so many years of life, you'd think she'd know better than to sniff the alcohol before drinking it. Tentatively, she took a sip of the mixture and rolled it around on her tongue.

Emmeryn

 

[Emmeryn]

She took the glass! The vampire’s full lips pulled upward in a confident smile, and, without asking for permission, she took to sitting on the couch. Emmeryn faced Larewen, her knees pointed towards the pale-skinned vampire. All of her focus was on her and Emmeryn hardly felt the need to turn her orange gaze elsewhere.

“Think of it like dessert,” Emmeryn said, “the purple layer floating on top is a liquor made out of blackberries, the amber at the bottom tends to be a favorite whisky of mine.” A coy smile to follow through as she tilted her head towards Larewen. “Lots of punch, but a bit of sweetness. I like to think it as a drink to explain myself. I am Emmeryn. To our meeting.” She offered her glass in a outstretched toast before decided to take a sip.

Blackberries were a delicacy back in the Bayou but it seemed in Liadin they were quite commonplace.

“And your name?”

Larewen Dragana

 

[Larewen Dragana]

Larewen couldn't remember the last time someone brought her a drink. Or someone acting friendly. She wondered if there was something the strange, beautiful woman wanted. It was hard for her to take simple acts of kindness seriously, what with her wanting to destroy the world for some people.

"Larewen," she answered. "A pleasure."

Did she really find it so? Perhaps, but more than likely not. She shifted on the settee as Emmeryn invited herself to join her, making sure there's enough room for her to sit comfortably. Larewen looked down at the drink, her nose wrinkling at its description. Larewen didn't like whiskey as much as she favored wine. Nonetheless, she raised the glass for a toast.

"To our meeting," she echoed, though there was a slight emptiness in her silvery voice. She hadn't yet decided if their meeting was simply a show of friendliness, or if there was something more to it. Tentatively, she brought it to her lips and took a healthy swallow of the concoction she'd received. It wasn't too bad. The blackberry liquor was smooth and fruity, but it lacked the acid to guise the taste of the whiskey.

"Why are you here?" Larewen finally asked, her voice taking on a colder edge. Another sip from the drink, and she found it growing on her.

Emmeryn