[The Golden Dragon] Marmoreal Kin [Devmond Incarnata]

[Seven Xu]

The pendulous green glass bottle dangled from between a pair of pale fingers, and Seven wobbled in place under the arm that had so dutifully snaked out to steady him. When Devmond abolished whatever notion Seven had of a band of halfblooded Symenestra hiding somewhere in Kalinor, his disappointment was masked by dismissal. “I’m not a drinker, nor a fighter,” he conceded, swiveling his upper body to motion towards the book that clattered to the floor, and had been forgotten. It was wide open on a page clearly titled ‘Defending Doorways’ in scrawling ink. “You’re right.”

After an awkward attempt to gather up the leather bound monstrosity that seemed to have gotten heavier and harder to hold, Seven exited the gaudy little cavern with his escort in tow. The pair passed room after room of closed curtains between elaborate wall sconces, the uninhibited sounds of ecstasy a common noise beneath the constant hum of chatter and laughter.

“So tell me,” Seven attempted to hide a stumble as they continued on, up a flight of stairs to the lodgings above, “Why … are you here; why this job?” He paused, reaching out with one hand to grasp a well-lacquered wooden railing, as worn as it was steady. “I cannot see the appeal in bedding a man who could potentially end your life in a horrible, painful death three seasons from now.”

The halfblood paused as he rounded the top of the stairs, scanning the long line of doors that occupied both sides of the hallway, and stretched out to either side of him. Here, he let Devmond take the lead. “No offense meant by that—I’m obviously not going to die by your seed.” Nervous laughter rose in his white throat.

Alcohol had not only loosened his step, but his tongue, it seemed. Prudent little Seven was a veritable chatterbox under the influence. When one of many doors swung open at the escort’s hand, it afforded him a view of a large four post bed, its deep cherry wood engraved with scrawling designs of human and animal alike in the throes of coitus. Rich silks lined the top mattress and continued their dance along the crudely sculpted posts to form a drooping canopy. More wine was placed deliberately on the bedside table in a pewter vessel. When Seven stepped into the room, he could smell the incense that had long since burned away, now a pile of ash.

“Fancy,” he mumbled, feeling the need to pull off his boots before he took another step into the room. “It’s much nicer than my living arrangements.” The stone box he had paid a beggar’s fortune for could hardly be called an apartment. It did attract the only individual he truly cared for; every night he shared his tiny bed with a mysterious little bird. Seven was reluctant to break the habit, but he was even less inclined to have his throat slashed and mizas taken in the darkness of the thoroughfare at night—a thought that hadn’t crossed his mind, until the Symenestra suggested it.

[Chevalier]

Devmond

LORE

• Acquaintance: Seven

EXPERIENCE

Skill	XP Earned
Rhetoric	4
Seduction	1

Seven

LORE

• Location: The Golden Dragon
• Dreamsmoke
• Acquaintance: Devmond

EXPERIENCE

Skill	XP Earned
Rhetoric	4
Seduction	2

Storyteller Notes

Secret :

Too bad it got cut short, you can never have enough fun gettin' drunk and high and having fun.