Private Tales A Tight Leash

[Maseno Luana]

If he heard the whispers and felt the eyes on him, Emryc did not show it. As accustomed as he was to negative attention, it felt no different here than it did deep under Vel Anir. As for his hunger ... well, truth be told the man could always eat, but one didn't ask for a meal when one was a Forsaken. One waited for a meal to be offered. He was lucky that his bulk was a major part of his assets, which meant he was fed quite a bit more often than others to maintain his stature and strength.

But that telltale question arrived and it made the half-orc eye the woman at his side.

"Bugs," he deadpanned, "and meat."

 

[Elouise Libelle]

Elouise had not expected his answer to be quite so... direct. Still, a step in the right direction if she were keeping track. "That have meat," she put a hand to her chin, considering the various offerings of the meager cart. It was food far below the standards of many of her compatriots, but much higher, she suspected, than what Emryc had been subjected to. As for herself, Elouise did enjoy the simple, greasy, sugary delights of this city.

She’d also eaten bugs. During one of her routine starvations in the academy she had attempted to summon her own food. Sadly, it took more of her energy to draw an insect to her than she could gain back by consuming it. It was just as well, given the brief yet vivid sensation of devouring herself.

She lead Emryc to a well-built man behind a poorly built stand. There was a fire burning to his right and various meats, breads, and scant few vegetables scattered haphazardly across a rough surface.

“My lady,” the vendor straightened up at her approach and made a stunted bowing motion, though it was clearly done in jest. Elouise smiled warmly all the same.

“Good evening, Marcus. Two of… those, please, for my associate and I.” She pointed a delicate finger to two thick slabs from some sort of animal. She made it a point never to ask what any of this was, for the answer would only disappoint all parties involved.

“My, he’s a big fellow,” Marcus mused, sliding the meat onto wooden skewers with bare hands. “Sure he don’t need two, or three?”

“Very well, two for him, one for me.”

“Generous, as always, Lady Libelle.”

Marcus had maintained his friendly tone quite well, but he could not hide the sidelong glances at Emryc as he worked. He had the good grace not to question the partnership, but Elouise knew he was curious. He handed the pair their meal in exchange for a few coins before that curiosity bubbled over.

“Are you keeping our lady safe, then, er…. friend?”

 

[Maseno Luana]

This was awkward in so very many ways, but Emryc was doing his damnedest not to appear as though it were. A glance was given in the Dreadlord's direction when the meat was offered to him by the vendor, as if to silently check and see if it were right that he was to take it for himself. When she made no distinguishing effort to say otherwise, he took it and immediately began to eat.

As a rule of thumb, Emryc did not think about being hungry. It was better to have learned to live with and ignore those signals from his body when one could never know when their next meal was. The smell of the food, however, had set his mouth watering and his stomach growling. Sharpened teeth easily shredded the skewered meat, pulling it from the stick and chewing.

He stopped only when the vendor asked his question.

"No," Emryc replied before setting right back to making the meat disappear. He finished both in a matter of minutes and stowed the wooden skewers up underneath the leather gauntlet of his left arm.

 

[Elouise Libelle]

Elouise had made it through about a third of her own meal by the time Emryc had finished his, and she did not pause at his answer, though it did peak her interest. What did Emryc believe he was doing here? He hadn't been told much... how much did he even know about the surface Vel Anir? How much did he know about Arethil? The details on the Forsaken were still trickling in, and it was clear than some of the higher ups had gone to great lengths to destroy whatever information they could get their hands on.

"Of course not," the vendor replied in the face of Emryc's bluntness. "Lady Libelle doesn't need no protection, does she?"

He seemed quite happy to bid them a good night, and Elouise continued to lead them to her home. A few of the moths on her person had migrated to the fried meat, and through their senses she tasted, smelled, and felt the food many times over. She was so engrossed that she scarcely noticed when they arrived, the time having flown by.

Her home was marked by a plain door in a long, gray stone line of connected buildings. A few larger moths floated a key to her fingers, and she opened the black wooden portal into an elegant sitting room. Clean, smooth stone made up the floors and walls. Large and ornate rugs spread out underfoot, most bearing floral patterns or twisting vines. A staircase rose along the left wall, but Elouise stepped past this and bade Emryc follow her to a back room.

It was modest, with a simple bed, small wardrobe, and an old but little-worn rack for armor and weapons. "These are your quarters. There isn't much now, but I wasn't sure what you would need before I met you. Do let me know if you require anything else. If we are to work together, I must have you well provided for."

She stepped back to allow him entry, should he choose. "You are free to roam where you like on the first floor, but you are not to come to the second. On this, I am afraid I must insist. Truly, you will have no need to." The first floor of the moderate apartment had the pantry and even a small bathchamber. The sitting room was cozy with a fireplace and numerous books.