District: The Entertainment District
The night was dark and the hour was late; still the sounds and smells of revelers filled the air in and around the streets surrounding The Golden Fleece brothel. The Entertainment District was living up to its appellation.
Indeed, the Fleece itself added to the audible and aural atmosphere of the District. From behind it's creme-colored, stucco walls, vented outward by windows raised against the warmth of the evening, sounds of singing blended with loud voices, laughter and occasional cries of satisfaction. Words were not apparent in the layers of sound; intent was, and the din of pleasure made a sort of music all its own.
Leena stepped out onto the street, a half-filled goblet of wine held loosely between the two fingers of her right hand. Immediately behind her, a raven flew out, alighting on the swinging sign above the door, identifying the building by name and purpose, as though the muffled sounds of passion and play were insufficient to do so. Leena carried no light with her, for neither she nor the raven had need of one. Their eyes pierced the semi-darkness around them, as easily as if the noon sun shone above.
Her cloak -- for tonight at least -- was a deep, lustrous purple, embroidered with silver thread in stylized, symbolic patterns holding no meaning beyond pure artistry. She liked the style, and often chose it, though where the cloak was concerned, her choices were all but limitless.
Beneath the cloak, the beautiful lady wore a form fitting dress of simple gray, square bodiced and slit on both the left and right side, revealing toned calves, black stockings and delicate black slippers. Though the ensemble was simple in construction, even a cursory study showed it to be exceptionally well-made, suggesting at least modest wealth.
Leena wore the dress confidently, cinched tightly at the waist to accentuate a slender, elfin figure. A black rod hung by a loop from a hook on the right side of her belt. About a foot long, the rod's circumference was roughly equal to that of a large man's thumb and lacquered to a matte finish, with silver endcaps and arcane symbols carved meticulously into its surface.
The woman's only other adornments were a hooked dagger at her left hip to accommodate the cross-draw, an amulet hanging pedant between her breasts, its surface displaying a stylized hand emerging from swirls of mist, and two loops of silver dangling from each of her faintly-pointed ears.
Leena sipped at the wine in one hand, using the other to half-wave, half-beckon towards a few passing carousers, deep in their cups and looking for another adventure. A few giggles and belches, and two of the men made a beeline to her establishment, the beefier of the two openly leering at the proprietress as he walked by. Leena didn't mind of course; she was used to it. It was good for business.
He looked vaguely familiar though; was he a repeat customer? Yes, a key functionary for one of the town councilors...and one with a significant ‘taste’ for opium, she recalled with a crooked smile. While Leena did not imbibe, those who did were part of the 'juice' that kept the Fleece golden..
Leena finished her wine with a contented swallow as the men entered, and then threw a wink to the raven perched above her. It appeared as if the raven nodded in response.
Another profitable night.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:09, Sat 12 Sept 2020.