Days separated Geren from the prison that had come to define his life. Days, and a few dozen miles of distance, both no doubt all too small in comparison. His love had been taken, those who had imprisoned the two while they were on their journey of discovery having done something with her, but despite the cold trail he would search for her. He and Jaina, being sidhe, were immortal, and if need be he could search forever.
There had been no survivors to question in the wreckage of the camp in which he had been held, no signs of where Jaina might have gone, and what tracks there had been for him to follow had led out onto a well traveled road. It was there that he stood now, the sidhe in his preferred form of a tanned elf waiting by a road that went in two directions. One led West and slightly North, into lands that he knew were held openly by a dragon named Aureus and then further West or North to other parts of Crolia. The other led East, to the Pass of Ghosts that would take him South to Badaria, or further East to Gods-Reach, the ancient fortress of the elves that the orcs had seized some months before he had been captured, or he could North to the great human city of Therion.
Slavers might go in any of those directions, but some might seem more likely than others in his mind, and without further clues to go on Geren could only pick a direction and hope that he came across a clue, either to where Jaina had been taken or to where any survivors of who had attacked his captors might have gone.
Geren's eyes swept from one direction to another. He knew that a wrong move would take him even further from Jaina yet he would never stop moving. Eventually he would find her. He considered the different ways he could go.
He doubted the slavers would enter the territory of a dragon, even to go farther into their own country. Badaria was a possiblity but that country held monsters that were even more dangerous than the dragons. If Jaina were seized by those beings...Geren grit his teeth and his hands trembled. The aliens... they frightened him. Stories of those captured, of the mindless shells that used to be a person... He had never heard of a sidhe being subject to such a fate but even if they were immune, the invaders would certainly figure out something. Geren pulled himself together and focused on the present.
No, he would not go to Badaria. Then the other two directions. These two seemed the most likely. Where there was commerce, there was crime. He considered the city of the humans. Their 'great' city. While he had planned to visit it, that was long ago, before the days of the cage. He turned to the last destination, the city of the Orcs, Gods-Reach. He knew little about the orcs. However, he did know they kept slaves.
He decided that Gods-Reach would be his first destination. However, it'd be a poor idea to stay an elf in such a place. He considered his new form before changing into a tanned human with several scars on his face and body. He made himself a little bulkier and a little shorter. After taking a moment to orient himself, he set off for Gods-Reach.
Whether or not his choice of form was wise was difficult to say. Even being relatively unschooled in the ways of the orcs beyond the stereotypes that he might have heard from other mortals, taking a human's shape might not be any better than that of an elf. It would at least probably be better as a tool for assessing the situation, though some caution would still be required at the very least, and if the few snippets of conversation that he'd heard suggesting that the orcs were making war on the human and elven portions of Crolia were true, it might be better to maintain his present shape until he entered their territory and then shift to assume a greenskin's form instead.
Regardless, Gods-Reach would be several days of travel at the very least, and even if his supernatural constitution allowed him to withstand the weather better than any mortal and made him all but immune to the need for food or rest, he was tireless. Walking along the road in his human form, for the first hour he would find nothing, and in the second all that would pass by him was a single figure clad only in rags, their back bent and their hood drawn high. They went by him, muttering to themselves in a voice too low for Geren to make out any words and ignoring any attempt at interaction save for direct physical confrontation or violence. Should the disguised sidhe let him pass, however, in another two hours the sun would begin to dip towards the mountains, and a strange sight appeared. A section of road split off from the main road, going South, but it was different from the rough cobblestone laid to preserve the roads connecting Southern Crolia.
This road was of neatly tiled white marble, kept perfectly clean by some unknown force. Beside it sat a small hut, and from that hut emerged a woman in an ornate black dress, form-fitting and leaving her every ample curve fully on display despite hiding the majority of her flawless creamy skin. Any attraction he might find in that might quickly be quashed, however, as the rest of her features caught his attention. Blood red eyes peered at him curiously through a pair of tiny rectangular lenses, held together on a frame for glasses that obviously weren't needed. Horns erupted from her temples, first turning back but then forming a curve until their points aligned with the direction of her face. A pair of deft, spade-tipped tails snaked out behind her, dancing delicately in the air just beneath her wide hips.
"Well hello there," the demoness purred jovially as her bloody gaze swept over his somewhat haggard form. She smiled appropriately devilishly and brought her eyes up to his face. "You look like you've had a rough couple of days," she remarked lightly, "care to take a load off and relax for a while? There's place just up the road where you can rest easy, and maybe find a bit of company if you're feeling... Lonely~" Her hands fell to her hips, and she smiled warmly in a gesture that was undeniably inviting despite her inhuman features. A demon on the roads of Therion wasn't exactly an occurrence one could expect to be common, however, and was a thing that ought to spark a hint of concern regardless even if it had been demons who had rescued Geren from his long captivity by way of the distraction they'd caused.
Geren was unnerved by the figure. His attempt to converse with the person had been completely ignored. He doubted it was intentional. He watched the figure go, debating whether or not to try something more direct. He didn't wish to resort to violence but whoever it was might not be stable. In the end, he turned his back on the robed figure and kept going. He didn't feel the need to satiate his curiosity at that time.
When Geren saw the road and hut, he paused. Whoever was here had sufficient power to ward off any passerbys they did not wish to see. That was troubling. He thought of the figure from before and wondered if they had offended the occupant of the hut. And then she emerged from her home.
A demon. Geren had never met one face to face. He had only seen them at a distance during his escape. He had heard the demon race had power that rivaled that of his own kind. If he wasn't careful, he could end up on the road, broken and muttering. "I haven't seen a friendly face in quite a long time. I'd welcome a place to rest and company." Despite her appeal, he wasn't interested in her. He would always think of Jaina. He wasn't going to ignore a creature of corruption, however. Such an abomination needed dealing with, one way or another.
"Eheh... Excellent!" the demoness replied brightly, clapping her palms together. "Laurien!" she called, turning her gaze back to the hut, out of which, perhaps to Geren's surprise, a gruff would emerge. The breed of lesser faerie were a common sight in the groves in which he would have spent much of his time growing up, though much less so in the court that he would have one day joined. They were humanoid, but not shapeshifters like the sidhe, and had the torsos that were human-like but with the heads and lower bodies of a goat, standing on cloven hooves and legs covered in thick brown fur. Most mortals found them unnerving, but to a sidhe like Geren they wouldn't have been a discomforting sight at all. Seeing one working with a demon, even one with no court markings, however...
"What is it?" the gruff, apparently called Laurien even though faeries did not naturally take names of their own, grunted. "Don't be snappish! We have someone for you to guide in!" the demoness said, waving a finger sternly at him in a complete reversal of her continued cheerful tone. The gruff gave another grunt, glanced over at Geren, and then motioned for him to follow, "come along then!"
The demoness turned back to Geren and put her hands back onto her hips. "Don't worry about him," she said, "he's just a big old grump! Really, you could just follow the road, so feel free to leave him behind and continue on by yourself if he gets too uppity! It's not like you can miss the place. Our rates are low, I guarantee it, and if you're low on coin we're happy to provide... Alternative... Methods of payment!" With that she would wave him off, signalling for him to follow the gruff who was already striding down the path, hooves clopping against the white marble pathway while his horned head bobbed from side to side.
A gruff? Geren acted shocked and took a few steps back, secretly looking at him closely. No court markings, no nothing. He might be a shapeshifter like the demoness but he doubted it, even with the lack of markings. Something strange was going on here. He walked a good distance behind the faerie, acting nervous while thinking of what to say. "Aren't you one of those faerie types? I've hearf of you. What are you called..." He frowned. "Bluffs? No... Oh, right! Gruffs!" He smiled, seemingly satisfied by his knowledge.
"You sure are lucky to be able to work for her." He sighed. "She's got all the curves in the right places." He grinned. "And I'm a little short of coin." He stopped for a moment, then ran to catch up. "But I heard faeries and demons didn't get along. If you don't mind, can I ask how you hooked up with a beauty like her?" This, at least, was no act. He really wanted to know how such a thing had happened. He hoped the gruff wouldn't get in his way when the time came. They were tough and Geren was still learning how to use his full potential. However, if Laurien did try to stop him, he'd have to deal with the traitor harshly. He probably wouldn't kill him but he might have to get rough with him.
"Yes," the gruff growled after a moment following Geren's awkwardly phrased question, his deliberate foppishness seemingly annoying the gruff but also seemingly hiding his true origins. His following suppositions and observations about the gruff and the demoness earned a derisive grunt from the lesser faerie, all told, but after a moment he would reply; "The demon bitch and I aren't "paired up" or anything of the sort. She's a coworker, and curves or not, I'd split her from end to end if given the chance. Same goes for most of my "coworkers," but she's by far the worst! Teasing cunt.... And if you're low on coin, heed my advice now and turn back! This place'll have you before you know it, and woe upon you if you try to skip out on your debt!"
By that point they had reached the end of the trees lining the marble pathway, however, and the gruff fell silent as he led Geren to out onto a wider path. Before him stood a palatial building constructed of pure white marble, unsullied by the wilds around it. Columns held up a grand balcony that overlooked the even larger are around the front of the house, where a grand patio stood before it, covered in tables and chairs that were half taken by people of all colors, shapes, and sizes, some obviously visitors while others wore garb like the white vest of the gruff or the black dress of the demon who had directed him there. Most members of both groups seemed mortal, beings humans or elves or orcs, but others were obviously demons or even a few other faeries, a single group of visitors in elegant garb even wearing the colors of the Winter Court.
Two women stood at the gate, clad in slim black dresses that left just enough to the imagination where their ample curves were concerned. The two demonesses, both sporting black horns jutting from their foreheads, knew how to wear them and the white high-heeled shoes as well, and both bowed elegantly to Geren as he was led forward. "Greetings sir~" they said in unison, "welcome to the Pauper's Palace! Enjoy your stay!" They straightened, and the chest-high metal gate split in the center and slid open, revealing more white marble pathway that led up to the door, "feel free to take a seat anywhere, outside or in! Your needs will be seen to shortly!"
Geren was suprised, though pleased, at the gruff's response. So, there was something else going on. He wondered what could be forcing him to stay here. Perhaps when he advised Geren, he was speaking from personal experience about debt. It was good that the conversation ended there because Geren was having a hard time keeping together when he saw the visitors there. Especially those of the Winter Courts. This didn't seem like their kind of place. It wasn't bleak enough.
The Winter Court had always scared him. He knew they weren't going to hurt him unless he did something stupid but in his youth he always left, sometimes abruptly, when one of the Winter Court drew near. Mab had been his boogeyman and his nightwares had been full of darkness and cold. As he got older, he managed to reign in his fear but seeing them still sent a shudder through his mind. He barely noticed when the demonesses welcomed him. "Oh, ah..." He forced his attention to the two in front of him. "Oh, thank you very much." He managed to make himself smile. He looked for somewhere to take a seat and perhaps converse with the mortals who were visiting here. He wanted to know what drew them here and what those without coin would be asked to do.
The two doorwomen bowed again as Geren thanked them, and for a moment their gazes followed him as he proceeded through the gate. It slowly swung shut behind him, though the open air around him might mollify the sense of being trapped as he walked down the path in search of a place to sit. He would find a small table under an umbrella, well away from the winter faeries who didn't so much as glance at him as he slunk past, too lost in whatever whispered conversation they were having. He had to walk past at least three servants, all women in the garb of maids but seemingly with half the material removed, and surprisingly there weren't all demons, one behind apparently human and another being a particularly busty elf.
He ended up among an odd assortment once he'd picked a table off in the corner, with one larger table nearby occupied by five men, all apparently human and with decidedly rough demeanors and arms close at hand. There were two women, both apparently waitresses given their garb, who were doing something akin to waiting on them. One was on her knees under the table, only her booted feet and the bottom half of her skirt visible, with her head steadily moving in one man's lap while he appeared quite... Entertained... By her actions, while another was sitting in a second man's lap, the blond elf still fully dressed but doing nothing to displace the hand that had slipped into her top while leaning in and whispering to her patron's ear.
The other nearby table was occupied by an even larger party of orcs, nearly a dozen of them, who were laughing and cheering in encouragement as a pair of plainly demonic servants were both kneeling in the center of the table, their tops pulled down so that their full, bare breasts were rubbing together as their mouths pressed together hungrily, the blue skin of one and the red skin of other contrasting enticingly. Raising mugs, the orcs were taking it in turns to grope the pair of demons, who only seemed to be encouraged by the constant groping.
"Hello," a soft voice purred from beside Geren, "enjoying the scenery?" The speaker proved to be a woman, not unlike the demoness who had invited him here on the road, of unnatural beauty. Sculpted, angular features, dazzling sky-blue eyes, full red lips, ample curves on a tall, lithe figure and and an outfit that displayed everything a man might want to see without outright revealing it were complimented by her supernatural features, the large dove-like wings on her back and the sky-blue scales on her hips and sides. She slipped into Geren's lap without invitation, an arm wrapping around his back and her charming smile left too close to ignore, and purred; "What is your pleasure, master?"
Geren grinned. He gripped the demoness ass. "What should I call you?" He rubbed her bottom as he spoke, even as his thoughts ran in different directions. When the demoness responded, he said "Well, I'm a bit hungry. I think I'd like some good bread. Last stuff I had was hard as a rock. Some good drink, too. Get the same for yourself too. I haven't eaten a meal with someone in at least a week." The meal would probably be poisoned but he had an idea. When she returned, he said. "When I was young, I was a hopeless romantic. I always had this fantasy. Me and a good looking girl serving each other from the other's food. Crossing arms and all that. And then I would retire to my room, maybe with the company of that good looking girl." He picked up his fork and gestured to her food. "How about it?"
Inside, Geren had ruin whatever was going on here. Not only were elven forced into bondage, so were faerie like the gruff. He was going to do something about this place, even if meant tearing it apart. He was going to be careful. He knew demons could be very powerful so he was going to have to do this slowly. Although... the Winter Court group was still bothering him. What is going on here?
Is there any way to tell whether Geren's powers are sealed without using one?
The unusual demon in his lap cooed as his hand grabbed her soft, round backside, a hand rising to trace along his chest while a thin, lithe tail with a pointed tip lightly tickled his wrist. "You can call me whatever you want.... Master~" she purred, but then leaned in to whisper into his ear, nut brown hair tickling Geren's face, "but if you really want my name... It's Sovyre~" Then she leaned away, leaving him to speak his desires to which she listened intently.
"Of course," she purred as she slowly slid out of his lap, her tail lightly coiling around his wrist and holding it against her ass briefly. "We have some fresh ale from a local town that just came in today. Pithia, if you're a local and know the area. We've got plenty of wine to choose from if you'd prefer, and that at least I know is good~" she said, and after Geren made his choice he would be able to watch her depart, her bottom rolling pleasantly as she strolled away towards the building.
She was only gone for about five minutes before she returned, carrying a tray that she set down in front of him containing a basket full of bread loves, a stick of butter, and three small pots filled with honey and maple syrup and what looked and smelled like strawberry jam. Two glasses, one of red wine and the other of whichever beverage Geren had ordered, possibly a mug if he had chosen ale, were also on the tray, and she sat down casually beside him with a friendly smile on her face. Contrary to his suspicions, when he made up a fantasy in an effort to avoid being poisoned, the white-winged woman maintained an interested expression throughout.
"Mmmmm, people's romantic fantasies interest me," she replied in a conversational tone, the first time she had truly seemed earnest with him, "so, I don't mind sharing like that at all! Is it based on some sort of tradition around here? I haven't been up North for very long, milady and the rest of us moved up here only a month ago." She took a light sip of wine and then reached for the bread, which was already carved. "Got a topping that you prefer? I tried to go for some... General preferences~ I like the strawberries!"
You've got questions~
A person with powers who is sealed knows that they've been sealed without having to use a power. Think of it like having an arm tied behind your back, when it happens you know it's going on. He can also feel a bit more magic than is normal in the air, but it's not
Geren hid his surprise as Soyvre did what he had asked without hesitation. Looks like the food and drink aren't poisoned, at least. For a moment, he saw himself doing this with Jaina, when he found her. He had made up this gesture on the spot but it really was quite intimate. That was rather unfortunate at this time. Still, it wouldn't do to stop it now. He'd just have to put up with it for the time being.
"Tradition? Well, if you called a tale from a bard tradition. It was some song or story, about a knight and his princess doing this kind of thing behind everyone's back. I was young when I heard it but I was taken. But only a month? This place doesn't look like it was made in a month. And I'll take it with honey. I enjoyed it when I was at home but haven't had it in a while." The last part, at least, was true. "It'll be nice to have something other than hard tack and water." He ate with the demoness for a bit, then said "Your wings are interesting. I've never seen anyone with dove wings. Is it a personal preference?"
"Mmmhhmmm~ There do seem to be many such legends up here," Sovyre replied conversationally. Dipping a corner of a portion of bread into the honey pot, the unusual demoness offered it to Geren while spreading her wings slightly, displaying the fine white feathers more fully. "It doesn't take us as long to put together a building," she purred cryptically after Geren marveled at how they'd only been there a month, "it takes things a lot easier when you can just move and shape the rock with magic!"
For the next little while Geren and Savyre ate together in relative silence, the demoness trying each of the three dips, but when questioned about her wings she smiled slightly. "It is... Personal preference I mean. When I was born they were actually red, but I thought white looked a lot nicer and wasn't as intimidating to people who aren't used to that sort of thing," she said, "I actually based them off of an angel's wings. I saw one in a town that I used to live in, before I ended up here. Heh, I guess it must all seem pretty strange, a mortal hearing about all this kind of stuff." She tilted her head, idly examining his face, "where did you get the scars, if you don't mind me asking?"
Geren shakes his head. "No, no, I find it very interesting. I'll admit, when I saw all the demons, certain feelings about your kind began to arise. I didn't expect them to be... well... less inhuman than they appeared. No offense. I just didn't know much about you, I guess."
When she mentions his scars, he looks grim. "I was... captured by slave traders. Kept in a cage, fed little. Beaten. And there was another slave... a woman. We talked a little, got to know a little about each other. Of course, she was treated... you know. Then she was gone. I escaped and began traveling again. I'm keeping an eye and ear out for her but I'm not sure I'll ever see her again. I'm going to keep looking, though." He treaded the line between truth and untruth. It made it easier to lie.
"So, you saw an angel? I've been traveling for a while but I've never seen one. What are they like?"
"Well, it's not like some of us haven't earned that sort of reputation," Savyre replied conversationally, though to Geren it might seem very much like a deflection. Unless he brought it up further, she would leave the comment at that.
When he delivered his half-truth about how he had gotten the scars on his face, something that in his true sidhe form he would not have since few things could truly scar an immortal, a look of sympathy quickly crossed the demon's features, one that was either genuine or well faked enough to be extremely convincing. "That's horrible!" she exclaimed with the same level of earnesty, "do you know her name? Or what group captured you? My mistress has started dealing with many of the mortal slaver groups, buying slaves and freeing them after a period of servitude, maybe you could work something out?"
Despite what seemed like an honest effort to help, Savyre was just as happy to have the subject of conversation returned to her. "Oh, well.... Very beautiful, in many senses of the word. Know what I mean?" she replied, smiling. "The one that I saw got along well with a hero there, a half-dragon if I remember correctly, but she... Well, she had this... Glow. It's hard to describe if you don't know magic, but it was more than just raw power, of which she had plenty. I don't know how often they appear or travel, but at least the one that I saw was sedentary, living there to help protect the village."
When Savyre offered assistance in finding Jaina, Geren was startled and now a little off balance. If what she says is true... then the succubus could end up finding Jaina faster than he could. But this place... It offended Geren and he was sure nothing good could be going on, especially given the gruff's comment. He wracked his mind going back and forth between his need for Jaina and his willingness to ignore an establishment like this. He paused for several moments. Then he said "Yes, I would appreciate any help I could get. Her name is Jaina. I'd like to meet your mistress tommorow." Every word felt like a hammer was being taken to his heart. He had to let this place be.
He forced himself to change the topic back to the angel. If he dwelt on his betrayal of his loyalties too long he might... he didn't know what he might do. "I see. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to meet one one day." He blinked and said "I'm glad for the company. Can I ask you something? Your mistress mentioned something about alternate means of payment. Do you know the specifics about that?"
"I'll ask for you," Savyre replied delicately, smiling and brushing a hand over Geren's comfortingly. The demoness offered no comment when he spoke of perhaps seeing an angel for himself one day, but when he asked about alternative methods of payment she looked briefly confused. "You don't mean the greeter, do you? She's just another employee. I saw you come in, and I didn't see you meet our lady... But, as for your question, you can work off your debts if you can't pay in coin for them. The faerie that you came in with is doing just that after he earned quite a bit of debt."
"I see." Geren was still in a bit of shock after realizing what he was willing to ignore for the sake of his beloved. "That sounds... that sounds fine." He shook himself. "I think I'm satisfied for the time being as far as hunger and thirst." He found himself saying "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't want the second part of my fantasy to come true." He grinned. "So, beautiful, would you mind accompanying me to my room? Although, come to think of it, I don't know which room is mine. So, I guess I'll follow you." He found himself letting his higher mind go for the moment, willing to indulge in baser pleasures. He'd feel better in the morning, he was sure of that. Idly, he wondered how and why the gruff can racked up such a debt. Maybe he'd find the answers the next day.
Savyre tilted her head curiously as Geren's shell-shocked reaction played itself out, but offered no query about it and returned his grin when he suggested that she lead him up to her room. "I was hoping you'd ask that soon," she purred as she rose to her feet and offered him a hand, "come with me, sirrah, and I'll help you make every fantasy you've ever had come true~"
If Geren took the demon's hand, she would turn and lead him towards the large building, and the human bandits would raise a cheer at she led him along, all save the man getting blown under the table eventually joining in and earning their table an annoyed look from some of the orcs. Leading him along and paying no heed to the cheers, Savyre led Geren along, standing far enough forward that his gaze would be drawn downwards to the slightly swaying hips and the way that her ass moved almost hypnotically, her soft flesh straining against her tight black pants. His right hand was gripped by hers, fingers laced together almost affectionately, but his left was free to take advantage of that appealing rear, and if Geren made good on that she would only briefly glance back at him over her shoulder, grinning.
Led through the front doors, Geren soon found himself in what could only be described as a den of debauchery. The room was massive and well lit by chandeliers of gold or brass or some similar shiny metal, each with either eight or twelve glowing white stones, which were arranged in a checkerboard pattern across the room. Tables filled much of the room, and no less than three stocked bars filled it, one just off center and the others against the right and left wall, with private booths placed against the other walls, some of which were full even if Geren couldn't see the occupants. There were more than three times as many servants inside as there were outside, and the apparent patrons were vastly more numerous, possibly due to the wintry climate outside. More than a hundred people who were presumably guests were scattered across the room, and even a quick glance around would show no less than a half dozen clients enjoying some sort of sexual attention from a servant under the table, including a human woman at a table near the wall who was clutching the table and tilting her head back as a pair of horns sticking between her legs shook up and down.
At the center of the room was a central stage with a pole rising up to the ceiling, attached by a raised catwalk to a much larger stage set against the rear wall. At the moment only the central stage was occupied by two figures. One was a thin elf woman, clad only a suit made up of narrow knotted ropes that interlocked over her form to limit her range of motion, including keeping her wrists together and pulled behind her back such that they were stuck over her hips. That left her torso slightly raised, her back made to arch by the position and ensuring that her perky breasts swung in time with the motions of what was happening to her. The elf's hair was plastered to her back by sweat, and streams of drool hung from a ballgag in her mouth, but if she was an unwilling participant then it was impossible to tell given how loudly her moans carried across the room. Behind her, in exactly the same setup, was an orc woman, her red hair drawn up into a ponytail and her grin skin glistening with sweat. She was bigger than the elf, taller by at least a foot and displaying corded muscle in addition to more voluptuous curves than her elven partner. Between them was a strange apparatus that was shifting back and forth between them, pushing a large, thick dildo alternatively into one and then the other. The pair were tied together by ropes attached to their harnesses, allowing them to pull against one another to make the toy plunging into their opponent's sex go deeper and harder, and at that point the orc was winning the wrestling match given how much closer to the device the elf was.
"Poor little Tatie," Savyre remarked as she gazed at the lewd display, though there was more amusement and wistful longing in her voice than real pity, "she always loses these. I guess she doesn't mind the bit of extra work, but really.... I wonder what she bet this time." She seemed to be talking to herself more than Geren in the second portion of her statement, and after her gaze flitted upwards she let out a low whistle. "Really? Nineteen already? I'd probably be comatose after that many!" she said in amazement, and if Geren followed her gaze he would be able to look up to see a board that had a title written at the top that read; "Diplomacy?" Below it were two numbers under labels that simply read; "Orgasms" and true to Savyre's amazed remark, beneath the elf's name was the number nineteen in simple marked lines. The orc had apparently only suffered five so far, and was named Luga. "I hope they don't make her do anything too bad after this," she continued, and down at the base of the stage, in the gap created by a barrier around the stage to keep the crowd of cheering onlookers at bay, was a narrow alley in which one could walk up to a trio of pedestals with jars on them and something written on the bases of their platforms.
"Come on, I'll grab a key for you," his partner for the night would continue, and strutted over to the side of the room, where a grand staircase led upstairs. Up they went, and at a desk Savyre spoke to a normal looking woman in more conservative clothing, a black vest over a white shirt, in a language that sounded vaguely like Badarian but was harsher and more unpleasant. He wouldn't recognize the language by default, but given his sidhe heritage his mind could understand it nonetheless; "Give us a room, nothing fancy! He'll settle his bill in the morning." The receptionist nodded, her dark red hair bobbing, and replied; "Of course! Here yah go Savyre!" She didn't seem to have as good a grasp of the language as Savyre, but understood and handed over a room key labeled "207" nonetheless. And then off they went, Savyre still pulling Geren by his hand unless he had at some point broken that point of contact, and soon enough were standing in front of a door.
The winged demoness unlocked it and pushed her way inside, revealing a lavish bedroom complete with a full bath and a very large bed. "Your chambers.... Master~" she purred, gently shutting the door behind him and standing close by his side. She nibbled her lower lip, a smile playing across her cheeks as an excited pink appeared, and gently stepped toward him, entering Geren's personal space. "How do you want me?" she purred, lust bordering on desperation suddenly entering her voice, the sort of tone that could easily latch onto the more primal portions of Geren's mind and spur him to commit all kinds of lascivious acts on the woman who stood so eagerly before him if he let it. How he wanted to react to that lust-fueled call was up to him, however, as he was under no compulsion to start out quickly.
Geren was stunned by the den. He had seen a few places, sure, but nothing that even came close to the scale of this. He quickly deadened his senses, returning them to normal levels. If he wasn't careful, he might get overwhelmed in such a place. He wondered if somehow, the place had different entrances in places all over the continent. That would explain the number of patrons. But... nineteen!? Geren couldn't believe the elf was still conscious. He was suddenly struck with the idea that Jaina could end up in one of these places. He had never even considered if before but then he never could have considered one of these places even existing.
Then, suddenly, he was in the room with Savyre. He was almost overcome by the lust that formed in his mind but tapped it down and got his bearings. "I think we'll start with a bath. I've been on the road for a while and I'm aching to get a good look at you." He smiled and stripped down for the bath. He ran the water good and hot and sat in it, sighing with pleasure. "It's been a while. Why don't you start by cleaning me off?" He wondered if Sayvre was one of the demons that sucked energy out of people. If she was, she was going to learn very quickly that it was a bad idea.
