Private Tales Hunger: Flesh and Blood

[Roul]

The door to Iren's room in the fortress of Cerak At'Thul flew open and heavy boots thudded on the wooden floor.

"Get up, we've got a jo- what the fuck?"

Roul stared around at the furnishings. A rich bear fur decorated the dark wood floor in front of an immense four-poster bed, the sheets in deep hues of maroon. A writing desk sat in front of a window, carved with beautiful woodland reliefs. The window itself was stained glass, probably from Allirian glass blowers. A cart of different drinks in crystal decanters sat beside the desk, accompanied by crystal goblets. A fireplace sat opposite the desk. Hung on one of the walls was an incredible oil painting of a mountain range. Roul squinted at it.

"Is that a Pagliacci?" he growled.

Meanwhile, the room Roul had been given was about a quarter of the size, with a tiny rickety bed and no furnishings, much less artwork.

"Fuck. Nevermind, we've got a job. The captain of the Red Libation has been spying for a continental power. Raith wants us to send a message."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Roul

Iren was currently occupying the bed and reading from a rather interesting book when Roul barged into his room. He sighed softly and looked over the edge of the book at the rowdy man. It was just like a werewolf to run around the place and getting everyone riled up.

"Is it?" He asked airily as his one remaining eye glanced at the painting. "Oh, I suppose it is. The Steward was so kind to share some of his pieces with me once he found out we share a fondness for art of that century, you know."

When Roul brought up the mission however... Iren's demeanor changed noticeably.

"Ah, I see. Well then we should handle this little headache." The vampire murmured pleasantly as he got up and put the book neatly away into the bookcase.

"You know, Roul, it isn't so bad here. If we are careful... I do believe we can really have a good time." It would depend on nobody screwing up the gravy train however. He knew that not all his companions were enjoying their time here as much as him.

But he firmly believed that was simply a lack of imagination.

Anything was possible here... if you applied yourself. He put on a cloak, since it was supposed to be rather cold today, and locked it into place with a clasp gifted to him by one of the other Wardens. Ravenna was a darling when she wanted to be.

 

[Roul]

"Bullshit. You've seen Alarak?" Roul rasped, ignoring the rest of the vampire's comments because he did not believe that Iren had already spoken to the dread lord of the fortress, the several hundred year old phantom pirate famed for rarely coming out of the upper castle - and for having those who crossed him flayed alive and staked out as warnings on the beach.

"You've actually spoken with him?"

Unbelievable.

Roul removed a hand from the hilt of his sword and crossed his arms. He was already dressed and ready to go in a simple black brigandine, cream tunic, black pants, boots, and a belted on sword and dagger.

Lycanthrope and vampire fell into step as they left the room and started down toward the docks. The Red Libation was a smaller cog and had a slip at the docks instead of being anchored in the deep water like the larger vessels. That meant they probably only had to deal with one to two dozen crew.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Roul

A light shrug there.

Not a yes, not a no. Really who could tell? But then again, if anyone would have been able to worm his way into the good graces of the three Wardens, it would be someone like Iren. He was a vampire, yes. A bloodthirsty leech that could not be trusted, true.

But he was refined, focused and rather effective at what he did.

"It doesn't really matter one way or another, does it?" As they went to the dock. "My point is simple- we must make sure we can stay here... and keep these people happy."

Because then they'd keep them happy.

"Autolycus had the right of it with that auction whether you like it or not." Yes, it was a bit distasteful considering Keres was a close friend of Roul. "We have little we can do here besides keep make sure they see our value. We can't fight them directly, we can't hope to overthrow them. So we do what we can."

Eyeing Roul and hoping the werewolf understood.

If anyone was liable to make this into a mess it would be him. What with his attachment to Keres and the way he had already caused a scene.

 

[Roul]

“Hm,” Roul grunted.

He did not particularly agree with Iren on all points, especially if the vampire already met the lord of the castle. But he did agree that they needed to find a way to come to terms with their current state of affairs.

Have to be realistic about these things…

“First time in a long time I’ve woken up without looking over my shoulder for a hunter. So there’s that.”

Roul did appreciate the certain aura of freedom in Cerak, as ironic as it was given the town’s main source of income. But people here didn’t care who you were, or where you came from, so long as you were not trying to rob, kill, or cheat them. There was something to that, Roul thought.

They went down several flights of stairs and emerged onto the wide cobblestone road that led to the fortress’ central entrance, a somewhat wide arched gate with a portcullis.

“What’s that scrawny monk been up to anyway?”

 

[Iren Brightmane]

At the very least he wasn't arguing against him.

Iren could do without the headache of trying to debate Roul on the matters of keeping these people friendly and happy. Before he could respond Roul continued. It made Iren incline his head. "It has been a long time since I have been this properly fed."

It was pleasant to walk around without the gnawing feel of hunger in your gut.

Oh, Iren was still hungry, he'd always be hungry. Walking around surrounded by walking flesh bags had that effect on you.

"He took over the library and I believe is trying to cozy up with the custodian." It was a guess, but truthfully speaking Iren hadn't been keeping tabs on Autolycus. Which was probably not the wisest course of action. An elf of his stature probably had several plots cooking.

But he was still stretching his wings here.

"So, any other information on this boat?" As they left the fortification behind the port could be seen in the distance. It would still be a walk away, first to the settlement, through the settlement and then finally reaching the docks.

"Do they just need killing or are we to bring them back alive for questioning?"

 

[Roul]

Pleasantly fed. Roul snorted. Meant a lot different for Iren than it did to the rest of them. Of the group, he supposed he alone came closest to understanding what that might be like, except where Iren delighted in his curse, Roul felt sickened.

Iren might be able to control his urges. Roul couldn’t. The idea of waking up holding one of his companion’s shattered, marrow-sucked thigh bones terrified him.

They passed beneath the gate and Roul spotted One-Eyed Misandra watching from where she leaned against the battlements with her short bow. He grimaced.

“Raith didn’t mention needing any alive, but I guess we could spare one or two. If that’s what you want to call it.”

Roul would rather get his skull split by an axe than be handed over still breathing to the Warden’s spymaster. Even if a survivor did not get tortured for information, he would still end up staked and flayed on the beach to die miserably.

“It’s just a cog, from Alliria I think. Maybe they’ve a spellcaster on board, maybe not. Will that really make a difference?” he shot a glance at the vampire as they strode down the winding, cliff-side road that led from the fortress down into town.

“Should we have pried the monk from his books to come with us?”

 

[Iren Brightmane]

"We should deliver at least one of them to the Wardens." Iren said simply with no care for their eventual fate. He recognized it would presumably begin with them being strapped into one of the nasty devices in the dungeons and end with their broken bodies discarded in a corpse pile outside the fortress.

It mattered none to Iren.

"They ask us to do something... we should strive not to just do it, but also go well and beyond." Added after a moment as clarification.

"That is the way to gain their trust... and make them... relaxed."

And once they were relaxed, well, they could start thinking about the future. But in Iren's eye the future was rather beautiful.

He shrugged. "I think we can handle it without him. I suggest we split the ship in two. I will prowl below deck and you handle the ones above." Iren glanced to his current companion. "Can you wolf out on command or do you have to wait until the moonlight, I forget."

It might be helpful to have the werewolf go to town above deck... or it could get messy. Iren wasn't sure if it would be wise.

 

[Roul]

"On command. Sometimes."

The shard of the Eye he stole had not granted him omniscience, nor unholy powers. But it had unlocked some inner truth, some barrier of the mind between himself and his lupine passenger. If he focused hard enough, he could summon the beast within, but it was not something he did lightly. And once summoned, it could be... unpredictable.

"I do that and there might be no survivors," he rasped.

Winding down the road, Roul could see the vessel in question below. He pointed it out. "This mission is just to send a message. A tool. Survivors would be tools. You and I? Tools."

Roul cracked his neck one way, then the other.

"Trust is the one thing I think these people don't do."

At last they emerged from the cliff road and into the town, passing a few people in the early morning, but here in Cerak nobody asked what you were about and nobody cared to be asked.

"Well. Guess we should get to it."

They stood on the docks. The Libation bobbed up and down before them, lashed with ropes to the wharf. A gangplank led up to the deck.