Hunting a Rat

[Poison]

((take 3 >.< PM/IM to join by the fourth post. No entry after the fourth post.))


In a small, barely-known tavern in Knife’s Edge, a young woman sat in a corner. She was completely by herself, but she found that tonight, she rather liked it that way. Normally, she didn’t frequent such small taverns. They rarely had the clientele of which she preferred to take advantage. However, her sources, of which there had been many over the years, had led her to believe that her target frequented this tavern.

Her target was a man named Atzar Killian. She had not always known him by this name. When she had first met him, he called himself Rodan. He had been the best friend of the man that had trained her, Thomas. Thomas had been the love of Poison’s life. They’d had plans for him to retire when the mission that Thomas was on turned out to be a trap. It had taken her several years, but she had finally found out the identity of the rat that had cost Thomas his life: Atzar Killian, previously known as Rodan.

From her vantage point, Poison could see every patron that entered the tiny tavern. Thus far, Atzar had not entered. She’d heard that he had quite a reputation in Salvar under his true name. He supposedly had a lair somewhere in the sewers, but Poison had not yet ventured to see if that was true. She had no intention of going into sewers if it was not truly required.

The door opened once again to admit a new patron. As per usual, Poison perked up from her moody slouch, to observe the newcomer. The man that entered this time was not alone. He had three other men with him. All of which were large, heavily muscled men. The man himself was tall with dark, curly hair. She saw his face only for an instant, but that was all she needed.

Found you, Rat.

Thoughts of how she was going to repay the man for the anguish he had caused ran through her mind. Many of them appealed to her. Right now, though, she was content to observe and see what kind of man he was now after all these years.


Atzar Killian was a very clever man. Aside from his drug smuggling, he also had lines of embezzlement in three prosperous companies and was being paid large sums of money for “protection” from no less than ten small businesses. All in all, he was a very wealthy and well-known man in Salvar’s criminal underworld. This tavern was one of the businesses his men “protected”. As such, he was entitled to several drinks on the house. While he didn’t think the alcohol to be of particularly fine quality, the fact that it was free kept drawing him here instead of the finer ale houses.

Several years ago, before he’d made all his current connections he’d lived in Radasanth. He’d been a criminal there, too. However, he was living there for the purpose of undoing a crime ring. The leader of his home syndicate had fostered dreams of mastering an international crime syndicate. Killian had been sent to Radasanth to weed out the few syndicates that his boss perceived to be a threat to his dreams.

Getting into Lord Carvel’s small time group had been easy enough. After a few years, he was one of Carvel’s most trusted men. He’d even made some actual friends amongst Carvel’s men. Among them, was a young woman named Anita and her lover, Thomas. He called himself Rodan during those days and was often a part of Thomas and Anita’s raid team. Every now and then he looked back on how his time in Radasanth had ended with a tiny tinge of regret. He’d not truly intended for Thomas to die, but he’d had no way of controlling who went on that particular raid.

Sighing, he took a seat at the bar and ordered his usual ale. His bodyguards were not permitted to drink while they were out with him. He rarely had less then three men with him as he was fully aware that there was a sizeable reward out for him, dead or alive. Two took a seat at the bar with him, one on each side. The third took up a position on the back wall so he could keep an eye out on the whole tavern for anyone that might cause his boss trouble.

Poison nodded silently in approval as she watched. This was indeed the same man. She’d known Rodan to be a very careful man. As far as she knew, he’d never been taken by surprise and had never been bested. She knew him to be extremely skilled with almost any weapon he picked up. He could wield almost any style of sword or throwing blades nearly expertly. She seen him spar with Thomas those many years ago, and although the sparring had been in good fun, even then she could see the level of control he’d had to use to keep from seriously injuring Thomas.

Enjoy your drinks, Rat. I’ll be coming for you later.

[Il Amator]

I grunted in pain as my wrist broke my fall onto the cold cobblestones outside of The Dancing Flame. “Take your trickery elsewhere, whelp,” the brutish barman snarled as he brushed off his shirt. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the night sky and sighing. Couldn’t anyone take a joke? I had arrived in Knife’s Edge two days earlier and had summarily been thrown out of almost every tavern I entered. Seems the natives of Salvar had little tolerance for illusion.

“Fine by me,” I quipped to no one in particular. “I’ll take my talents where they’ll be appreciated.” Despite the fact that I had no idea where such a place would be, I enjoyed telling the tavern my intentions anyway. Getting slowly back to my feet and checking to ensure all of my possessions were on my person, I turned to the south and meandered down the street.

Few people were out on such a night, most preferring the raucous atmosphere of the local taverns to the crisp winds whipping through the empty streets. I was a people person to be sure, but the calming ambience of an evening in Salvar wasn’t lost on me. “Pity,” I muttered to myself. “More people should be enjoying this.” Shaking my head at the general populace, I scanned the street ahead of me for my next target.

The Whickering Horse. Certainly an odd enough name… the simple building caught my attention and I veered across the street toward its unassuming entrance. Gathering my charisma about me like the fuzzy shawls many of the women around here wore, I strode boldly into the dismal tavern.

Few heads turned at my entrance, a fact I found slightly bemusing, and so I took the time to study the patrons that had gathered solely for my amusement. Several nondescript males gathered around a table to my immediate left, barely looking up from their game of chance to pay any attention to the world around them. I chuckled at their intent focus and continued surveying the room. I saw barmaids, travelers, and creepy old men staring at the barmaids; your typical tavern fare.

Then I spied a burly man with a sour look on his face scrutinizing the bar in a similar fashion to me. Noting the man’s weapon, which he poorly attempted to conceal, I gathered that he was someone’s hired muscle. But whose? I carefully watched him out of the corner of my eye, pretending instead to be highly concerned with a crooked picture hanging on the wall. Every few seconds his gaze returned to a man seated at the bar before sweeping the room in the opposite direction. So this man had hired the goon… interesting.

Logging the information away, I stepped toward the bar and settled down next to another large man. Other than the two gentlemen beside me, the bar counter was vacant. I briefly wondered why, but soon pushed the thought from my mind as a beautiful little thing saucily swaggered up beside me. “Mademoiselle!” I cried in mock surprise at her brazenly salacious act, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” My natural charm surfaced then and overtook any curiosity I had concerning the two large gentlemen seemingly guarding the third man. I had my hands full with the tasty trollop; no time for conspiracy theories and idle wonderings.

Perhaps my luck would turn around yet… as the luscious lady cozied up to me, it certainly seemed like things had begun to change. Only time would tell as the night wore on.

[Poison]

The night wore on and Poison watched impassively as Atzar drank drink after drink. No one bothered him even once and the barkeeper made sure to keep the drinks coming. She noted with a small measure of satisfaction that he was getting more than a little bit tipsy. That would make her work even better.

I could just have him sprout a knife out of the back of his neck. I could probably make such a throw from here, but then he wouldn’t know who did it or why. No, I’ll wait and bide my time.

Keeping a tight control over her desires to see the man dead she took a few minutes to observe the small crowd that had gathered over the last hour or two. A brave young man opted to sit right next to one of Killian’s guards. Brave was not necessarily a word Poison would have chosen. Stupid or ignorant would have suited better in her opinion. Most people that frequented this tavern knew better than to sit so close to Killian. So far, it didn’t seem to a problem. She chuckled quietly to herself as she watched the tavern whore cozy up to the dark-haired man.

Doesn’t bother me, so long as he doesn’t get in my way.

It wasn’t long after that Killian decided he’d had enough of the shabby tavern and rose, somewhat unsteadily, to his feet. His guards stood quickly glancing around to be certain no one was going to be stupid enough to try anything. No one did, and the third guard left his place at the back wall to join his fellows and boss. Poison waited for them to be completely out of the establishment before rising from her seat to follow them.

Now that the only man that could recognize her was not able to see her, she let her hood fall back from her face. She shook her long, silvery hair loose from the constraining folds of her cloak and half-strutted across the floor, well aware that many male eyes were following her, and basking in the knowledge that they knew they didn’t stand an icicle in hell’s chance of getting her. She didn’t meet any of the glances or acknowledge any comments made as she passed the tables. Her mind was set on one thing, following Aztar Killian to his home.

Half a block ahead of her, Aztar Killian wove his way down the streets to his large home, unaware of who stalked him tonight.

[Il Amator]

“And we’ll all go together, to pick wild mountain thyme all around the blooming heather,” my beautiful baritone voice swept the tavern patrons off their feet in a rousing rendition of one of my favorite pub songs. Kneeling down beside a table occupied by three gentlemen, each with their lady, I grasped the hand of the closest woman and finished the verse, “Will you go, lassie, go?” Holding the last note until I thought my lungs would burst; I bowed low and kissed the maiden’s hand. She blushed and giggled as was customary before turning her attentions back to her suitor.

The few tavern goers who had actually listened to my wondrous song broke into a smattering of applause before resuming whatever activities they had been engaged in. Standing and bowing low to the lady once again, I made my way back to my seat. Her suitor’s glaring eyes followed me back to the bar counter where I dropped heavily onto my stool and pointed to the barman. “Another ale for me,” I told him, grinning as I placed a few gold on the counter.

“Quite the windpipes ya got thar,” he commented as he topped off my mug. “Ever think of becomin’ a regular here?” His heavy accent masked his sarcasm, but I still caught on. Does no one appreciate me in this wretched town!? I wondered hopelessly. The tart I had been entertaining before my performance had moved onto another patron, one more than happy to pay her fee and leave the bar with her as quickly as he could. Some men gave in so readily to their basest desires. Shaking my head, I scanned the room for another fair maiden to unleash my wiles upon.

Only then did I notice that the two bodyguards and their drunken charge had left the pub. Sometime between playing a round of darts and crooning Wild Mountain Thyme I had lost track of them. Chastising myself for being so unobservant, I briefly contemplated leaving The Whickering Horse and venturing out into the crisp Salvar air once again in order to find them. But what did they matter to me? I had no invested interest is leaving such a lively crowd to go pursue hired goons and their paranoid master.

Throwing back my head and draining the rest of my ale, I inhaled sharply and slammed the mug onto the counter. My eyes locked in on a barmaid standing near the back wall; my next target had been chosen. Rolling my shoulders backward a few times to loosen up my muscles, I slid off my stool and made my way across the tavern toward her. The beauty had long, flowing hair the color of wheat and bright, innocent eyes that shone with an emerald glow. Her outfit was the same as the other wenches serving drinks and food in The Whickering Horse and hers showed off her ample curves adequately. A fine catch.

One hand rested on the wall behind her as I leaned my body weight toward her suggestively. Angling my head to whisper into her ear, I asked, “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” She turned toward me and her eyes locked with mine, seduction already written all over her face. Smiling coyly and quickly averting her gaze, she set her serving tray down on the nearest table.

“And why would I do that?” she questioned playfully, obviously toying with me.

My free hand rose from my side and my fingers intertwined through her hair. Grasping the lustrous tendrils gently, I pulled her closer to me and bent down ever so slightly. Our lips met fleetingly, hers soft and inviting, before I pulled away. “I can’t think of any reason…” I uttered in a voice laced heavily with lust.

Arms quickly wrapped around my neck and her slender fingers dug into my skin as she pressed herself against me. Her full figure so close to mine sent longing shivers coursing through me. My hand caressed her cheek while the other dropped from the wall to her back, twisting her body around as our lips found each other once again. She moaned softly, her nails biting deeper into my flesh. Just enough to hook her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked casually as we separated once again. Her eyes wide with passion unfulfilled, she could only nod and latch herself onto my arm. I sauntered back to the counter, intent on hiding my own carnal desires from her. Better that she think me in control. I had succeeded in enthralling her, now I just had to entice her back to my place at an inn not far away.

And from the look of burning passion in her jade eyes, that wouldn’t be a difficult task at all.

[Poison]

Keeping mostly to shadows, Poison had little trouble following the group of four men. The streets were mostly empty, so she was not worried about being seen. Soon enough, the men approached a large building with a high wall around it. A large wrought-iron gate stood in the middle. The guards opened it quickly to admit themselves and their boss, then closed and locked it behind them. Poison didn’t care about that. She had no intention of attempting to walk through the front door anyway.

She waited silently until she heard the echoes of the front door slamming closed, then began to make a circuit of the wall. It was at least thirty feet high and made of stone. At each corner there was a small, roofed area. Poison assumed that they were there for patrols to rest in case of rain. At the moment, she couldn’t hear any patrols walking around the top of the wall.

They’ll be there soon enough, I better hurry.

Picking up her pace, Poison made three more circuits around the wall. She found no other gates to go through. Neither were there any trees that were tall enough or close enough to be of any use to get over the wall. While this aggravated the assassiness, it did not deter her from her purpose for being in Knife’s Edge. Standing in the deep shadow of the building across the street, she thought of a moment.

I could probably find a long enough rope and a grapnel, but if there are patrols, they’ll hear it. Going through the front gate after dark isn’t an option either. I’m not even sure I could fit through the bars. Picking the lock is out of the question, too much noise to open the gate.

She thought for a moment more then sighed. She would deal with it after taking a good sleep. First though, she intended to find something to drink and someone to keep her warm tonight. She quickly made her way back to the tavern at which she’d seen Killian. She took a look around the gathered patrons, then made her way to the bar. She took a seat and then laughed to herself when she realized that she’d taken Atzar’s seat. The barkeep noticed this too and approached her nervously.

“Umm, excuse me, Miss, but that seat’s reserved. Only Mr. Killian sits there.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Barkeep,” she said, leaning over the counter and looking up at him, “Atzar and I go way back, he won’t mind if I sit here. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to be coming back tonight.” She shrugged her shoulders so her cloak moved back away from her hips, displaying her titanium sei, “And I insist on sitting here.”

The barkeep nodded miserably. It didn’t really matter to him who sat there, but he’d seen several people hurt or killed because they sat in Mr. Killian’s seat. He took Poison’s order and quickly returned with a glass of red wine. Maybe he would be lucky and none of Killian’s informants would be here tonight to see him allow a girl to break the reservation on that barstool.

Poison took a long sip of the red wine. It was good wine, though she’d had better. Looking around again, she noticed a young man walk across the room to the counter with a barmaid on his arm. She took a good long, appreciative look at him. He would do very well for her purposes. Getting rid of the barmaid wouldn't be difficult either. She was probably just getting a head start on her night job.

Standing, she unfastened her cloak and laid it across her stool. Then she took off her weapon belt and laid it down as well. She doubted anyone would be so stupid as to try to take either cloak or belt. She took one more swig of her wine, draining the slender glass, then sauntered over to where the young man stood.

“Good evening,” she said in a soft, sultry voice as she took a seat on the stool he was standing beside. "I'm Alicia."

[Il Amator]

A silky smooth voice interrupted my delightfully intimate conversation with the off-duty barmaid and my first reaction was to brush off the intrusion. But as the sibilant seductress behind me introduced herself, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. After all, it was my nature. Excusing myself from the conversation, I turned to see a silvery temptress gazing lasciviously in my direction. She introduced herself, but I was so taken by her striking beauty that I missed her name. Stammering for a reply, I stuttered, “Br- Brammas.” Idiot, I cursed my impetuous need to impress every woman I met; why couldn’t I just enjoy my evening with-

My seductress turned her head and the dull light from behind the bar struck her sleek neck at an angle that nearly took my breath away. This woman was a vision; her supple legs carried her voluptuous body well, showing off every exquisite curve of her form perfectly. A lesser man would have dropped his jaw and began drooling at merely the thought of bedding her. But I was made of tougher stuff. As my stomach turned somersaults, I corrected myself, Only slightly tougher. It was all I could to do resist melting into a puddle at her feet.

“Get it together,” I mumbled under my breath. Then, to the silver beauty, I suavely asked, “What are you drinking?” Motioning to the barkeep, I indicated that I would be buying the next round of spirits, he shuffled toward us; his eyes languishing over her splendor. As he got closer, I realized it wasn’t lust that colored his eyes, but fear. Odd, I thought, but the thought soon dissipated.

She was different, I could tell that much. However, her interest in me spoke magnitudes. I already had my foot in the door; a simple suggestion might be enough to cement my plans. I gazed discreetly at her delicate features, no Salvarian looked even remotely like this woman. “What brings you to these frigid parts?” I wondered idly as I slid closer to her. Surely such an angel had better places to be…

[Poison]

The smile never left Poison lips as she watched the barmaid’s supple lips form into a frown.

“Run along now, young lady. I’m sure there are several other suitable men in the room. Besides, isn’t your break just about over? It’d be a shame to lose your job for fraternizing with customers when you’re supposed to be working.”

“I’m not on-“

“I thought I told you to leave? If you wish to learn a few tricks, then do so at a distance.”

The young woman’s frown turned angry, but she knew when she had been beaten. She didn’t say anything at all to Poison’s remarks. Instead, she quickly memorized the strange woman’s face. She knew of at least one person who liked to know when strangers poached in his territory. As she moved off to another part of the tavern, she smiled smugly despite her defeat. By this time tomorrow, the new lady would be hardly recognizable under all the cuts, bruises, and dried blood that would be adorning her body when her true employer got done with silver-haired wench.

Poison didn’t particularly care that the barmaid had apparently lost her entertainment, if the girl was any good, it wouldn’t be long before she had some other young man enraptured with her emerald eyes and luscious curves. She waited until the barmaid had her attention fixed elsewhere, then turned her attention to the man before her.

“Brammas,” she repeated, getting the name firmly in her head. “To answer your first question, I’m drinking red wine. As for the second question, I was. . . looking for someone. However, that is not my worry for tonight. I know where they are now and they aren’t going to be leaving anytime soon. I’ll catch up with them early tomorrow evening.”

She paused to take a sip of the wine the barkeep had silently provided while she spoke with Brammas. She gazed lustfully into his eyes, imagining all kinds of things they could be doing right then. However, she did not want the game to go too quickly, otherwise it was not as much fun.

“I suppose I could ask the same of you. What brings you to such a shabby tavern as this?”

[Il Amator]

I quickly found my charm again and the confidence that came along with it. My new companion enjoyed the game as much as I; I could tell by her eyes. The silvery orbs twinkled with delight as she watched me squirm uncomfortably in her presence. That would change soon enough.

“I came on a tip from a friend,” I responded to her question. “I’m… meeting someone in this forsaken frostland.” A wicked smile danced across my features, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. My own blue eyes locked on hers as I returned the conversation back to something much more amiable. “But I’m merely enjoying life for the time being. Pleasure before business, I always say.” With a wink, I finished my glass of wine and rose to my feet.

The unassuming patrons of The Whickering Horse seemed lifeless to my extravagant tastes. No one mingled between tables, few conversations extended past one or two friends, and even the barmaids seemed subdued on this evening. Shaking my head, I inwardly lamented the lack of spice in this place. These people deserved better, O realized. Turning back to my salacious companion, I leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“You seem like the kind that would enjoy stirring this place up,” I observed. “Care to join me?” Without waiting for a response, I stepped away from the bar and began twisting my fingers together in complex forms. When I had finished, an illusory thug walked up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and grunted something unintelligible. “Excuse me!?” I roared in an outrage. Several faces turned at the shout, interested only in who was about to have issue with who. I smiled as I stepped closer to my conjured thug.

My fist flew through the air toward his chin and the illusion responded in kind when the punch brushed its chin. The thug toppled to the ground, but was soon back on his feet in a low stance. My blood began pumping as his fist came hurtling through the air for my gut. This was make or break time; how I reacted to this ‘punch’ would sell the fight or make the whole thing seemed stage. As his curled fingers crushed into my stomach, I doubled over in pain and pushed myself up on my toes. After stumbling back a few steps, I locked eyes with my illusion. The crowd was hooked.

As my illusion grabbed for a sword nearby, I turned and stole a mug from a nearby customer. He shouted his disapproval, just as I had expected him to. Rising to face me, I cracked the mug over his head. Brown eyes rolled back into his skull as he went down, crashing into his own table and sending food and drink flying through the air.

Most bar fights I had been in followed the same set pattern; someone started a fight, a third person got involved, and then the entire tavern was soon laying into one another. However, there was that imperceptible moment between the personal fight and the bar fight where everyone was focused on that poor sucker who got involved. It was as if The Whickering Horse cumulatively held its breath, waiting for that tense moment to pass.

When a man on the other side of the bar roared an obscenity before headbutting his drinking buddy, that moment was gone. Instantly, the tavern plunged into chaos as everyone grabbed for a makeshift weapon. I fought my way through the crowd to get back to the bar and find my female companion. Doubtlessly, she would be handling herself just fine. A smile lit my features as I thought about her bashing in the heads of drooling buffoons. What a great night this was turning out to be!

[Poison]

Poison watched him curiously as he moved his fingers. The sudden appearance of the thug startled her at first, but it made her think. If he could produce illusions solid enough to appear real, he could be very useful. She didn’t usually like the idea of having a partner, especially not on something so personal as her current mission. However, she knew that Atzar was no fool. He would have several guards posted around his home, inside and out.

As the fight between Brammas and his pretend thug climaxed, she looked around the room. Most eyes were fastened on the fight. Despite it not being any of their business, they just could not seem to pull their eyes away. Then, as if on cue, the whole place erupted in violent chaos. Poison smiled in spite of herself. Brammas had been right when he thought she’d enjoy stirring the place up. Though she didn’t usually partake in bar fights, she thoroughly enjoyed instigating and watching them.

Tonight would be different.

Poison sat on her stool, enjoying the spectacle before her. Behind her, another man saw that she was not fighting and thought, foolishly, that this was his chance to woo her away from Brammas. He sidled up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and whispered in her ear.

“Why don’t you and me skip this fight? A pretty little thing like you doesn’t need to watch such stupidity.”

Poison’s eyes narrowed as she turned her head to look at him. Then she casually jerked her elbow into his stomach as hard as she could. The man stumbled back, the breath knocked from his lungs. Poison slid off her seat and faced him, grey eyes hard as steel as she glared at him.

“Don’t you lay another finger on me, jerk. Now get out of my sight before I decide to teach you a lesson.”

Angrily, she turned her back on him. Disrupted from her entertainment, she decided she might as well join it. She’d scarcely taken three steps when a hand fell on her shoulder, yanking her back. She wrenched her shoulder free of the hand and whirled to see the man that had just spoken to her. She thought briefly about pulling her sai on the man, but then remembered that they were on Atzar's stool with her cloak. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

“I told you not lay another finger on me,” she told him harshly. Without giving him a chance to respond, she darted forward, punching him solidly in the stomach. As he bent involuntarily, she pivoted smoothly and brought her foot up into his face. A small smile parted her lips when he fell to the floor like a stone. “Maybe next time you’ll listen when the lady tells you she’s not interested.”

Turning to the rest of the tavern, she saw that no one was really paying much attention to anyone other than the person they were currently beating up. She moved swiftly between the fighters to her previous seat and gathered her cloak over one arm. Looking around, she found that Brammas had worked his way back to where he’d left her and hurried over to him.

“Fun as this has been, Brammas, I can think of things that are more fun and far more...pleasurable,” she whispered in his ear as she leaned against him. “Shall we be going?”

[Il Amator]

My seductive companion whispered her intentions for the rest of the evening in my ear and I gave a quick look around the tavern before responding. What man is his right mind would turn down such an invitation, I did not know; I was surely not such a man. “You’re right, love,” I whispered back to her. “I think a change of scenery is in order.” After flashing her a grin, I lead the way through the brawling patrons and out into the streets of Salvar. The frigid air clutched at my chest, making it hard to draw a breath and I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes. “Blast the cold,” I muttered as I drew my cloak around me.

As deserted as the streets had been earlier, there were even less people out and about now. Not a single soul traveled the icy roads, giving us privacy that I found immensely appealing. If not for the cold, we might begin the pleasantries a bit earlier…

I shook the head from my thought and turned to face my luscious partner in crime. “I’m afraid I am no longer welcome at the establishment where my room is,” I admitted with a mock frown. “Do you have suitable arrangements for the night’s activities?” A knowing grin slid onto my frozen features, but it just didn’t have the same effect sine my teeth were chattering noisily. Next time I walk around the frozen north, I thought, I might think about something more insulated than silk…

[Poison]

((bunnying of Brammas was approved by his owner ^_^))


Being undead, the cold did not bother Poison nearly as much as it obviously bothered Brammas. She felt the cold, of course, but it did not set her teeth to chattering and her limbs to shivering in an effort to keep warm. She looked about briefly, then her eyes settled on a dark window on the second floor of the establishment they had just left.

“How do you feel about a little climbing?” she asked with a smirk.

Not waiting for his answer, she moved silently to the alley alongside the tavern. She paused for a moment for Brammas to catch up and to figure out her path. Then, she began climbing, her slender fingers finding hand holds in the run down wall easily. In a short time, she was on the ledge that ran around the second level. It was perhaps a single foot wide, plenty wide enough for Poison. Glancing down at Brammas who was following her, she smiled encouragingly.

“Just a little bit further, Brammas. The window is the very first one around the corner.”

She slipped around the corner and opened the window. Pleased to find that her assumption of the room’s emptiness was correct, she dipped her head back out the window. The last thing she wanted was for her new friend to fall because he was too cold to hold on properly. She needn’t have worried though. Brammas was right behind her.

Smiling again, Poison closed the window behind him, then went to the single lamp on the bedside table. Carefully, almost too carefully, she lit it and looked around the room. It held a twin-size bed, a nightstand, and a washtable with a pitcher full of cold water. The room was quite small, obviously one of the cheaper options available. Poison removed her cloak and her belt and laid them down on the floor beneath the window. Free of the cumbersome items, she looped her arms around Brammas’ neck and kissed him lightly.

“Now, where were we?”

[Il Amator]

The cold had seeped into my bones, making my body ache for the warmth that my female companion was so obviously offering. Normally I would indulge the sensuous game of teasing foreplay, but tonight was different. I was freezing and her body heat called to me like a will o’ the wisp in a dark forest, guiding me toward its bobbing light. I returned her kiss with a passion born of slight desperation; time was my enemy here.

A smile turned the corner of my lips as I grasped her hips firmly in both my hands. “Quite a nice room you have here,” I whispered sarcastically. The thought that we might get caught only added to the appeal of such an evening. She chuckled lightly at my remark and closed her eyes as my lips wandered down the side of her neck and along her collarbone. Bending slightly, I wrapped my arms around her bottom and lifted her up my body. Holding her close, I felt the pulse of her heart and the warmth that her curvaceous form had to offer.

Turning so that her back was to the bed, I lay her down gently enough and continued caressing her soft skin with my lips. “Shall we?” I murmured, placing a hand on my belt buckle. From her display in the tavern earlier, I guessed that my new friend wasn’t one to overindulge in pleasantries… unless it suited her whim. With a wide grin on my face at the thought, I knew tonight was going to be something I would not soon forget.

[Poison]

Poison laughed almost wickedly in answer. She leaned upward and kissed him again, but there was no light playfulness in this kiss. As she allowed her tongue and lips to do battle with his, one hand slid down to his belt buckle, encouraging him wordlessly as her other hand began to work at the buttons on her shirt. In moments, their clothes lay on the floor, forgotten as more interesting things filled the eyes and minds of the two on the bed.

Poison’s lips left Brammas’ and trailed along his jaw to his throat. She breathed deeply, feeling the rush of his lifeblood beneath his skin. A shudder went through her at the thought of how easy it would be to feed from him now.

No, not yet...

Tearing her mind from the thought of a meal, she nibbled at his neck. Her arms caressed smoothly over his arms, back and chest. A moan escaped her lips at the touch of his hands on her bare skin, returning her caresses.

“Brammas...”

She moaned his name as he nudged her legs apart, filling her with himself. At that point, Poison lost track of most of the rest of the night, except for the fact that she enjoyed herself immensely.

The following morning, just before dawn...

Poison watched the sleeping Brammas. They had been very busy for most of the night, if she let him, she was sure Brammas would probably sleep until mid-morning or later. She lay on the bed curled up beside him with one arm draped over his chest. The covers had been pulled up to under her armpits. She was quite comfortable lying there with him, but she had work to do.

A grimace flashed across her face as her stomach growled and a pang of intense hunger shot through her. She had chosen not to feed from him throughout the whole night. Now she was paying for that. She bit her lip as she gazed at him. Her hunger was such that she could almost taste his blood without having bitten him yet.

In the end, her hunger won out. Slowly, she moved so that she straddled his stomach, letting the covers drop to her waist to reveal her naked body. She leaned over him and nuzzled at his neck, inhaling the scent of the blood traveling through the veins in his neck. Her fangs extended, so far he had not yet woken. For this, Poison was very glad. Then she sank her fangs deep into his neck. She moved quickly to reduce the amount of pain and drank deeply. Her body shuddered as she fed on the life-giving fluid.


((biting of Brammas is pre-approved by his owner ^^))