PM to join [The Herald's Arms] Swaying of the Limbs (Aidan)

[Reine Darlyeo]

Swaying of the Limbs 24th of Summer, 513 A.V. When she had first stumbled upon the Herald’s Arms, Reine had decided that it might be one of the wildest places in Syliras. The amount of people who visited the place was also quite astounding. People of every sort seemed to drop by the Herald’s Arms – both travelers and residents. All sorts of madness seemed to be allowed in the Herald’s Arms. And now, she worked here. It had been quite overwhelming at first. There were so many people, so many eyes on her – enough to make her squirm. She was used to not being seen. Not being stared at. Still, she did work as an entertainer and the very point of her job was making people notice her. Despite her discomfort at first, Reine enjoyed what she was doing. With a little flick of her eyes, she could entrance people in her dancing. Unconsciously, she had used the subtle power of her hypnotism to drag the attention to her, setting her apart from the other dancers. They had experience over her, but she had the slight advantage of her magic. Truthfully, if she was back in Ravok, Reine would’ve used her magic more boldly, gaining everything she could through her hypnotism – after all, for years she had been taught to do exactly just that. She might acquire more money and maybe some secrets here and there. But here, in Syliras, she was too fearful of the knights and their awareness of magic. These days, the usage of magic had been down to almost none, with these spreading rumors that those who practiced the art had been captured. Reine was not ready to take the risk. If she was caught, it would bring to many questions and troubles for Delvor. He had told not to anything to attract attention and so far, Reine was doing a pretty good job of it. One of the things that she loved best about the Herald’s Arms was the energy. She could feel the excitement and adrenaline buzzing in the air. Laughter mingled with loud conversations nearly covered the flowing music. It was a little mad, if she had to be honest. A handful people were dancing, others were locked in a passionate embrace or were conversing rather loudly. The passion floor was quite large, yet the place was nearly full except for a fraction of the room reserved for the performers. The amount of entertainers working was also quite a surprise. She had not yet had the chance to introduce herself to any of them, but she figured sooner or later she would. They all seemed very experienced though. Still, nothing really mattered when she had started dancing. Reine moved fluidly. She swayed her hips to the beat, pronouncing the curves of her body. Her feet crossed each other as danced a simple, yet elegant steps. Adrenaline coursed through her blood as the music sped up. The tightness of her corset constricted her movements the slightest bit – but it was nothing noticeable. She bended her body to side to side, tossing her hair as she did so. She tossed in simple acrobatic skills into the dance for good measure - handstands and simple leaps and flips. She dared not risk something more complicated for her skills in acrobatics were minimal and she did not want to humiliate herself in front of this crowd. She threw her arms above her head as she twirled and twirled. Her dress bloomed slightly because of her movement. With each step, she glided through the floor, all the way making sure she did not bump into anyone. Her dancing skills were very basic and most of her movements were nothing compared to the others. Most of the time, she improvised, letting the music act as her guide – like a puppet with her strings guided by a flashy tune. Reine knew she was probably still wasn't that skilled in what she was doing. Her experience in dancing had only came from occasional performances she needed to do either as a cover or an entertainment for the parties - and neither needed any particular skill since it was simply for a distraction as she worked her ways through hypnotism. At last the music stopped and for the first time she noticed the eyes that were trained on her. She grinned widely and bowed slightly before disappearing into the moving bodies of the crowd. A thin layer of sweat covered her and the body heat from so many people did not exactly help her case. Reine decided to make a quick trip downstairs to the bottom floor and grabbed a quick drink from the bar – maybe even spend some time there. As she descended, she gave a quick glance at the second floor. Even after weeks of working here, Reine had never actually went to the second floor. She simply had no need to. Few men had boldly offered to pay her for companionship – which all she had politely declined. They did not spark any interest in her. The first floor was only slightly calmer compared to the passion floor this late. The bar flowed with people, ales slid across the table into waiting hands. The seats were filled with people who conversed with each other carefully. The smell of alcohol was barely masking the soft perfume that always filled the air of this lodging. She walked toward the bar and leaned on the edge of it, calling out to one of the bartenders. Even with with her dancing clothes which exposed both her shoulders and stomach, she was still uncomfortable with the warmth of the room. “I’d like some ale, please.”

[Aidan Sutter]

It was not so often that Aidan found himself with a night free from the collar of duty to the Stallion. Not that he considered his vocation more a shackle than paid fancy. It was just that, every so often, a man needed to get out, stretch, and enjoy the soft symphony of crickets serenading Leth across the sky. A simple, yet deeply meaningful sort of pleasure.

So it had begun with nothing more than a stroll along the fire lit thoroughfare that bisected the city from north to south. A chance to clear his head of muddled thoughts. And after working midst the chaos of the sort of crowds the Stallion attracted, such thoughts were never in short supply. Aidan felt like a worn leather boot that had known many feet, dragged through all manner of filth that had finally been discarded in some dark alley.

This ramshackle way of living, surprisingly, did not bother him as much. Aidan took a gentler pleasure in lending a hand where it was needed. It did, however, wear on a man, and the cook could feel that his sole would be close to threadbare if he didn’t find a good cobbler soon…in a fashion. Someone to lift his spirits, if only for the warmth of their company.

Halfway back from the docks, idle thoughts of grabbing a drink had subtly turned into something more akin to a spoiling for, his drying throat pushing back pangs only a thick, foamy ale could sate. Such thoughts were tempting like a maiden’s eyes leading him through a busy crowd, but following them to the Stallion was simply out of the question. A change of scenery was in order.

And none too soon. For it was also around that time that Aidan could feel something more sinister raking along the nape of his neck. Like a feather with barbs garnishing its edges, it broke his stride into a stuttering that scraped his boots indelicately across the cobbled street, stealing his breath and blanketing his lungs in a thin sheet of ice. He was being followed, and it wasn’t a Knight.

Any Sunberthan worth his salt knew that supporting one’s impulse to look back would lead to quick folly. Yet it took a certain amount of strength to deny it all the same. The best one could hope for was to keep walking and behave as if nothing had changed, then quickly cutting across side streets in a dizzying puzzle of turns until pursuit was lost. Easy.

Beads of unbidden sweat dabbled across his brow like morning dew poised on summer blades of grass, hands edging into vest pockets to keep their fidgeting cloaked. Aidan had a reasonably educated idea as to who was tailing him, his list of enemies limited to one man. But it wasn’t just one pair of footsteps that clicked against the stones behind him. Apparently there was help.

They’d fallen into such a rhythm that it had become impossible to ignore, the chef’s ears catching each click of a heel as though they were daggers pecking at a drum. Looking down at the soft leather boots his own feet were stashed away in, Aidan knew he would be thankful for their more muffled pattering in just the next few ticks, looking back up to find his first exit off to the right.

Like a coiled spring he unraveled in the blink of an eye, bounding down the fork without preamble as the first thing heard was the raised clamor of footsteps echoing from the stone walls behind him. It might have been a relief to know he wasn’t so crazy after all if there weren’t men with debts to collect chasing after him, but time spent dawdling was being handed to his pursuers in footage. And distance was key in this game.

It wasn’t more than ten long sprinting steps that Aidan cut along the corner of a building to his left, down a short alley that quickly buckled to his right before opening again into a busier street. Here he slowed down just enough to avoid unwanted attention, pant legs whispering like excited university children as he stayed along the wall to his left before swallowing himself up in another alleyway.

This narrowing passage went straight for a time before options were given, one branch leading off to the left with another breaking towards the right just a handful of paces further. With distance in mind, and his breath starting to pull on him, Aidan opted for the wall linings to the right, dashing as fast as his legs would take him.

He quickly lost himself in the twists of Syliras’ dark walls, never stopping, and avoiding obstacles that might betray his location. It might have seemed reasonable to any other mind that finding a patrol of Knights seemed his best option. But growing up in Sunberth had given him a preternatural distrust of any member claiming authority. Besides, it wasn’t like the money he owed had been a strictly legal transaction, either.

With lungs burning and eyes feverishly searching for a hideaway, Aidan stumbled back out into a larger thoroughfare and caught his footing in a few scraping steps. Just off to his right a warm light poured from a building where patrons entered and left in a most glib fashion.

“…how she twirled? Ah, t’was like watching a goddess. You don’t see natural beauty such as that too often.”

“I liked that one girl…what was her name? Evie? Evaney? Eventie? She could make a copperless man rich with that smile alone.”

“I preferred the young, fresh faced woman. Didn’t catch her name.”

“Started wit’un awr, I-I think.”

Fading like thunder over an open plane, Aidan heard the group of men coming from the door wander off into the darkening night, their exuberance piquing the cook’s interest long enough to turn his steel blue-eyed gaze up to the sign hanging above the threshold. Herald’s Arms. A place known only to him by reputation, no word of which seemed to suit Syliras’ pious undertones.

A good place for any loyal son of Sunberth to hide.

Catching his breath, Aidan walked in with an easy stride that could have pinned him for a regular, the scent of perfume catching his nose like stepping through a field of wild flowers that knew no such thing as territory or season. It was a touch more lavish than that of the Stallion by its appearance alone. No doubt a product of the services it was reputed to provide for its clientele. A private little getaway for lords and their mistresses.

The first floor was crowded and nearly bristling in warmth, giving his state of dehydration an almost tangible line he could run his finger around. Parted lips breathed slowly until Aidan’s spirited heart rate came under control, languid steps taken towards the bar as he waited for an opening amid the thrall of customers. As luck would have it, his eyes caught sight of such a gift next to a rather attractive and sparsely clad young woman. Ovek be praised.

”Water and ale, if you would,” his voice raising above the din with a disarming smile to the bartender closest, laden thickly by his accent he cared so little to hide.

Without forcing his attention to turn towards present company, despite how baited he felt to do so, Aidan pinched the linen hem of his shirt between thumb and forefinger and billowed it quickly a few times to allow a cooler air flow to seep in. ”Seems you picked a far more appropriate outfit than I for this eve," leaning towards her though his eyes dared not. "Though I imagine exposing my midriff might be too unsightly for those who paid good money to be here.”

The man was all teeth and simpering expression, fingertips brushing lazily through the short lengths of his musty brown hair after he was finished with his shirt, settling against the edge of the bar.

x

[Reine Darlyeo]

She was half-daydreaming as she waited for her drink, her thoughts floated off to who knows where. Her finger mindlessly trailed the wooden surface.When she had gotten bored of it, she folded her arms, her hands resting against the long-sleeves of her blouse that had started to stick to her skin a little. The loudness of the first floor barely disturbed her at all - she was far used to tuning them out.

Reine lowered her head, letting her dark hair became a curtain across her face, trying to disappear at least for a moment. Without her dance and magic, she was just another girl lounging in a bar, no one worth noting. Being invisible was what she wanted for a while. Apparently, it didn't workout so well. The dancer was honestly surprised when a man appeared next to her, ordering for water and ale, his voice snapping her out of her reverie. By the way he billowed his shirt, she guessed he was as uncomfortable with the warmth as she was.

Reine laughed lightly at the man's comment. Her eyes darting quickly to assess the newcomer. He definitely leaned towards her, yet oddly, he didn't even really look at her. He talked in a peculiar way, not like most people in Syliras.

"It is sort of a requirement, actually," the girl explained lightly as a mug of ale was placed in front of her. She might have been better off drinking some water to soothe her thirst, she had learned that the ale would make her more tolerant of the customers who happened to have some attitude. "Working here doesn't exactly let one dress modestly." After a few days being a dancer there, she had actually come to terms with that. Dress fittingly and the crowd will love her more. And that means the owner of the place will also love her more. Quite simple. With another short glance, Reine decided that the man was good-looking, carrying an air of confidence around him. "You have never been here before, have you? If you have, I'm quite sure I would be able to tell. So, what brings you to the mighty splendor of the Herald's Arms?"

Boxcode by Nakuli