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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 2748981" data-attributes="member: 15187">Stravarius sighed as he shut and bolted the door to his room. The ever present tension when in the company of others slowly began to ease. He tugged off his sweat damped gloves and threw them across the room. Next, the heavy and restrictive cloak was discarded and his rapier unbuckled and dropped to the floor. A huff of breath and the candle left burning by the landlord was extinguished. He took two long steps to the window and parted the leather covering, allowing the night breeze to ruffle his damp hair. Despite the stink it carried, Stravarius enjoyed the gentle wind on his face. His lambent eyes easily pierced the night's secrets, and he watched the fevered doings of the celebrants in the street below. Despite his fatigue, he remained leaning on the ledge for hours, fighting sleep. Sleep might bring dreams of the frightful barrow again. And in there, the centre of his terror, the Transmuter would be waiting, and with it the memories of his centuries long torment. In his mind he would never be free of that awful place, or of the horrid transformation that had been worked on his body. Eventually, he forced himself abed and closed eyes burning with weariness. Mercifully, his sleep was peaceful, undisturbed by either his past or the inferno of lust that coursed through the fevered city. ********The Convent of Doves was a sumptuous structure located just outside the walls of Halfast. Built in defiance of a city edict that had lapsed centuries ago, the buildings had evolved into a rabbit warren of rooms, halls, galleries and courtyards. Amongst its rug covered floors, silken doorways and scented warmth, the Sisters of the Veil entertained visitors of every stripe and nationality. They were the concubines of Laster, the earthly incarnation of his lust. To be taken by the hand by one of the sisters and led silently into her room was to know ecstasy.Many came to the convent seeking such a blessed union, but only the fortunate were chosen. For those whom the sisters overlooked, courtesan's and their less refined kin attended the holy bordello in their dozens, providing (for a price) some consolation. It was often said that no-one with coin ever left the convent unsated.Bastien arrived with his young charges to find a riot of dancing and music as hundreds of revellers sought the holy pinnacle to All Summers Eve. Seeing the crowd that confronted them, the companions immediately abandoned any hope of staying together and went their separate ways. Gerard wandered delicately through the throngs, seeking a dalliance with one of the famed sisters. His heart thumped painfully in his chest but he somehow managed to look assured and confident. Passing through a kitchen, he appropriated a bottle of wine and two goblets and thus armed, continued with his quest. His wanderings took him far into the building and the lewd acts he saw openly performed by other celebrators fired his blood. In one chamber, an exquisitely proportioned dancer moved languidly to a sinuous tune piped by boy of startling beauty. He watched entranced as her movements artfully told the tale of a dangerous seduction. The veils covering her head and body were of such delicacy that they barely concealed anything of the splendid form beneath, being just enough to allow the viewer to use their imagination to complete the picture. The dance ended with a trilling crescendo and the crowd erupted in appreciation. As the dancer stepped out amongst the applause, Gerard moved before her and proffered a goblet.The dancer reached for the goblet and smiled, "I am Adrianne", she said, looking deeply into his eyes. Gerard watched her lift the goblet to her mouth, holding his gaze all the while. Her throat pulsed steadily as she slowly drained the goblet in one long draught. Not daring to speak, Gerard offered his hand and allowed himself to be led away. Magic. Truly he was beloved of Laster this night.In another part of the convent, Mortec amused himself by watching the lewd religious antics performed by passionate worshippers. Their lustral rites were something completely removed from the mysterious ceremonies performed to honour his goddess. Mortec took care to not stay in any one place too long, as his exotic origin received much interest from both revellers and attendants. He smilingly declined several offers made by those whom the night emboldened to seek out such a bizarre union as a tryst with a gnome.Elsewhere, Argonne was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. The people, the noise and the architecture were completely foreign to his experiences as a woodsman from rural Brellac. His simple clothing, crude manners and coarse features jarred with the well dressed sophisticates who drank, loved and laughed as if in defiance of the very world.Pulling his broad brimmed hat low over his face, he quietly made his way along the walls of the bordello, seeking a quiet corner where he might pass unnoticed. Spying a darkened alcove, Argonne backed into it with relief. Just as he began to relax, a hot breath caressed the back of his neck."Hmm, what is this tender young morsel that Laster has brought to me for comfort," a husky voice murmured in his ear. Argonne let out a startled oath and spun around to find himself facing a veiled priestess. The veil and robes concealed much of her features, but he could see enough to determine that she was short and full figured, much like the women of his village. "I thought it was only the sisters who wore the veil", she teased, reaching up to remove his hat. "Now come here, my sweet young thing and let Giselle teach you some holy truths." For Argonne, not blessed with pleasing features or the amorous attention of women, the night would blaze long in his memory.*****</blockquote>

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