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.Lucis DuGrace.

[-The Broken Chant Tavern-]

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[SIZE=2][RIGHT]This is not an exact picture of what the tavern looks like, for one bar in this picture is located as a central island.
However, I would like to use the picture as an example of decor and ambiance.[/RIGHT][/SIZE]

The Broken Chant Tavern is located in the heart of Orisia’s capital, with breathtaking views of Atitlan Lake to one side and the DuGrace castle rising majestically out of the mist to the other. Its close proximity to the great market place and the main wharves of the city make it a convenient location for the seamen and travelers alike. However, this is not your normal run of the mill establishment—immediately upon abandoning the beautiful cobbled streets and stepping through the threshold, all patrons will perhaps be astonished to find an elegant and clean environment.

The main floor of the tavern is a large square space, dimly light by carefully crafted glass oil lamps that produce a smokeless flame. There’s a striking massive fire pit opposite to the main door, where the smell of fresh burning pine releases a deliciously inviting smell into the atmosphere. The room is littered with strategically placed tables, all carved of rich dark wood with matching chairs. Two of the tables, near the fire pit are actually surrounded by large soft-leather wing chairs and on each tabletop a chess set is laid out, offering any patron a chance to unwind. Also, on either side of the fire pit two magnificent pool tables stand, expertly carved with intricate designs, offering yet another opportunity to any patron wanting to relax over a friendly game. The left wall is dominated by large inviting booths—and to the right a tall bar extends the entire length of the room. Behind the bar a mirrored wall with shelves boasts bottles of all shapes and sizes, with brilliant warm and bright colors. This is where you’re likely to catch your first glimpse of the large behemoth known as Frank.

Totally at ease behind his bar, Frank is quick to smile to his patrons, and quicker still to ask what your poison is. The absolute perfect embodiment of a barkeep, he adores mingling with his patrons, listening to their joys and sorrows, and of course collecting his payment. He prides himself with running such a fine establishment and has little tolerance for messy and belligerent drunks who disturbed the enjoyment of the rest of his patrons. For this reason he keeps four rather mean looking guards posted at all times—these men are paid a hefty sum to keep their wits about them. Should a drop of alcohol touch their tongue’s they’re quickly be out of a job.

Beyond the bar, in the corner a set of wide stairs lead to a second floor where private rooms are located. These rooms are just as beautifully decorated, but offer his more wealthy patrons a bit more luxury and privacy. He’s had the pleasure of playing host to Orisia’s royalty, as well as a number of other highly important guests. If you want to see these rooms, you’ll have to pay.

On the third and fourth floors, a number of suits are available. Always the accommodating host, Frank has made the third floor into a more affordable section, with smaller but still comfortable rooms (14 rooms available, all with private baths). The fourth floor is again strictly reserved for his more wealthy customers, with only six available suites—all with a private bedroom, sitting rooms, balconies, and large bathrooms (with beautiful four-footed porcelain tubs).


1. The Broken Chant Tavern is subject to all of Orisia’s laws.

2. The Broken Chant Tavern is strictly neutral ground—all are welcome, but physical altercations (within the public sphere) will not be tolerated. All fights or acts of violence that take place in the private sphere must not damage the foundation of the tavern in any way.

3. The Broken Chant Tavern is open to all.

[I]I can’t think of anymore rules—but I’ll add them as they come to me. <3[/I]
[/FONT][/SIZE] Edited by .Lucis DuGrace.

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[FONT=Garamond][SIZE=2][COLOR="#800000"]-A slight nod was all he gave Frank as he passed through the doors of the establishment. Immediately he was greeted by the overly sweet smell of alcohol and the warm smoky scent of oil-lamps burning. This was not the normal run of the mill type of tavern—for one the disgusting smell of a meat-market typesetting was not present. Frank kept a clean and presentable establishment, he prided himself in this. But there wasn’t much time to admire the rich dark décor—he had a meeting, and he was certain that he was late. So he took the stairs in twos, and soon found himself on the second floor of the building—though the stair case continued winding upward. The second floor of The Broken Chant Tavern was wholly dedicated to private rooms, and it was within one of the more luxurious ones that he meant to meet with his good friend.

Running a hand through his long silver locks he hurried down the hall and turned the corner. There a large door open stood half open. He paused for a moment, regarding the door with warmth—he was going to see an old friend. A smile immediately spread over his handsome face as he took hold of the knob and pushed the door further.

There was little light within the room—the only source was a smoldering orange fire that cast a warm yellow light. The room was spacious with comfortable sofas thrown about a low table. And there, amidst the warm plank woods of the wall, the slowly shifting white curtains which framed open windows, he would find a face that he had not seen in what felt like ages. There was of course pleasure at the prospect of this meeting, but at its core it was duty that had caused him to call on this distant figure from his past.-

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[FONT=garamond]The sounds of jovial and cordial gatherings took place not too far from his location. Rommel could hear the chuckle of a drunken bar goer, but nothing too belligerent as to cause a stir. Rommel moonlighted a few nights as a bouncer during his leave of absence from the military. It was a dirty job; kicking out unruly customers and breaking up the occasional bar room brawl started by a woman's handkerchief being tossed to the floor. What he wouldn't give to have worked in a place like this instead. The laughter beneath him was loud, but no riotous, and the patrons appeared to be speaking amongst themselves rather than across the room. He admired the dark atmosphere and the standard glance from the tavern keeper as he walked in earlier. It was...peaceful.

His gloved hands wrung to the calming sound of the window creaking open and close to the soft, balmy winds outside. The heat from the fireplace was calming, though he preferred the slight draft from the outside any time. The fire was simply a comfort for an old acquaintance he wished he had known more about. All Rommel knew was that he was important, and the very pinnacle of what he strove to be. Many years had passed since they had last met, and had it not been for the Paragon Endeavor, this meeting wouldn't have taken place at all.

The door opened, causing him to immediately stand upright and at attention. Like being at boot camp, he remained motionless until he finally caught sight of the man he had met many years ago. For Rommel, it was as though this man had not aged since they met. Instead of hesitating on that thought, however, he brought his fist to his chest in salute and spoke in his deepest voice.

"[COLOR=#800080]A pleasure to see you, sir! I hope you are well.[/COLOR]"

His voice spoke with an almost eerie kindness, something a myriad of people who have met him were not akin to recognize as normal.

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[FONT=Garamond][SIZE=2][COLOR="#800000"][COLOR="#800000"]-A lopsided grim appeared upon Lucis face as the full sight of Rommel settled within his mind. Had it really been eighty years? It hardly felt like it—but his old friend had all the markings of age to show it. There was pleasure in this meeting, but also a distinct sort of sorrow for what mortality made of those who could not resist it. Always a sight to behold, the massive form of Rommel only seemed more defined in this more mature guise. Lucis remembered him fondly as a younger man, but it was obvious the way Rommel’s eyes regarded him that he had not changed and this was startling if not unsettling. Still, Rommel knew very well what Lucis was, and long ago he had no qualms with this—had things changed? The thought immediately evaporated from the princes’ mind when he saw the massive man stand to his full height and perform a heartfelt salute.

“None of that Sir nonsense,” Lucis stated coolly, a frown touching on his features for only a moment. Two swift steps from his long legs carried him quickly to his companion’s side. There he reached out, clasped the hand that was still held to Rommel’s chest and shook it with all the vigor and esteem befitting an old friend. “It’s good to see you Rommel—it’s been years, and you definitely show it.” Again that grin spread across the young face—indeed, Lucis had not aged at all since last Rommel had seen him. His features were still those of a man fresh into his twenties.

“How the hell have you been?” He was moving again, returning to the hearth where a table was alined with crustal bottles all filled with different colored liquids. “Have a drink with me? What will you have? Frank stocks nearly everything in his place.” He glanced at the man—golden eyes bright. In his exitment, it was hard to believe that he was in fact much older than Rommel—much much older. While he waited on the man’s drink order, he poured himself a glass of something colored dark red, nearly black when held up to the fire. It wasn’t thick enough to be blood, but the air did carry that coppery smell after he poured himself a glass. Swirling it about the globe shaped glass he ventured to taste it.

“[I]Blood [/I]Wine,” he snickered, “never gets old.”-
[/COLOR][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] Edited by .Lucis DuGrace.

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[FONT=garamond]Lucis' reaction was one Rommel didn't expect. Though they were on cordial terms, Rommel distinctly believed in the hierarchy of leadership and found fraternizing with one's superior a tad too lax. But if his liege was okay with such an action, so was he. Gripping Lucis' hand equally tight, he shook it firmly before withdrawing toward the table directed to him. For now, he remained vigilant of the doors and windows.

Another reason to keep the window open was to better hear the various rustles and snaps of twigs. An assassin could be near to take either of the two of them...though they'd have to be the paramount of stealth and guile to attack either of them without the other retaliating. The precautions Rommel took were many, he had investigated the libations hours before moving to this room to wait for his friend. It was a person like him that often took his job too seriously.

It was strange to be so calm around royalty, at least for him. He didn't have much of an idea of what to with his hands. His eyes bore into the gloved palms, sending the silent question before once more focusing his attention on Lucis.

A proud smile formed over his lips before waving a hand through his peppered hair. It was true, he had aged, but normally a person of his standing would be in the grave by now, or close to it, but the years and various enchantments had been good to him. The only thing he gave in return was combat.

"[COLOR=#800080]Hah! I've been about, you know. Got myself into some nasty fights on the coast and came back to get myself immortalized. Too bad I couldn't look like you for the rest of my life, else I'd have the women flocking to me![/COLOR]"

He boasted a powerful laugh before picking up an empty glass.

"[COLOR=#800080]Suppose I'll just take the strongest he's got.[/COLOR]"

Scooping up a bottle of brown-ish liquid, he examined its content and the label. Satisfied with its strength, he poured himself a tall glass and slumped down into a fur-lined chair to relax.

"[COLOR=#800080]Been a while since I've sat down...though.[/COLOR]"

He took a long sip of the alcohol, feeling the bite instantly of the almost undrinkable fluid. A faint wince and he continued on with his conversation.

"[COLOR=#800080]Though I doubt you'd call me from the front lines just to have a drink. Someone need a good execution? Need to rescue the princess from a castle?[/COLOR]"[/FONT]

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[FONT=Garamond][SIZE=2][COLOR="#800000"]-The smell of whiskey nearly scorched Lucis senses, causing him to look curiously at the massive man who had poured himself a rather heavy glass of Brännvin, or what translated to burn-wine. It was quite an impressive feat to find anything that actually caused the hybrid prince to wrinkle his nose in wonder—but whatever the hell was in that liquor did the trick. More surprising was the ease with which Rommel gulped down the poisonous stuff. A silver brow rose, quickly followed by the other, effectively changing his expression from doubt to utter wonder. Whatever Rommel’s stomach was made out of, surely it would rival that of a dragons, with its obvious ability to contain the burn of the liquid that now sloshed within. But this moment of wonder ended soon enough as the massive man quickly reminded Lucis that this was not a pleasant and unexpected visit.

“Always so direct,” he smirked, tilting his glace in Rommel’s direction, “To your good health, old friend.” Although he had already tasted his wine he took a much more liberal gulp and sat down across the tank of a man who had come to answer his call. Lucis was of an impressive size, broad shouldered, narrow in waist, but with a clearly defined muscle tone. Where his friend was made for brute strength, it was obvious that Lucis was a sleek creature made for speed—though he was hardly a lithe thing. He hardly seemed to enjoy his wine before the glass was set down, one leg crossed over the other, and his hands set upon his lap. The joyful expression that had brought him into the room was gone and replaced by a much more regal expression.

Time for business—and his entire demeanor suddenly reflected this.

“My mother has awakened—some time ago, actually.” He added with the slightest hint of a frown, though little could be deciphered from such a look. Rommel was somewhat familiar with the Princes’ history—he had been handed over as an infant to a trusted family friend and raised to be this, a diplomat, a politician, a useful member of a once forgotten royal family. And those words, the fact that his mother had awoken, revealed the matter of all this secrecy and urgency. “She has claimed this island, Orisia as for her and hers. We haven’t yet come upon much resistance. Orisia wasn’t exactly fit to protest when she came into power.” The silver haired man shrugged, reached out and took his glass again.

“We are in a particularly strained situation; Orisia is located between two warring continents.” His eyes shifted, settled directly upon Rommel’s, regarding his reaction to this news. “Our Queen has been stolen by one of Terrenus’ Kings. Due to our pledge we are forbidden from interfearing,” now he snarled, now his handsome and controlled face twisted in rage, “we must trust that she’ll be returned to us. We must trust her to that despicable excuse for a [I]king[/I]—all for the sake of maintaining the ceasefire between Genesaris and Terrenus.”

He allowed this news to sink in, to collect within Rommel’s mind before continuing, “—but that’s not the worst of it. We have no peace on either side. Genesaris is home to the Great North, those who wreaked havoc upon this island nation long before my family took control.” His lips pursed tightly, forming a thin and angry line as he seemed to weigh the words he had just spoken. “I’ve created an order—Knights to serve this disadvantaged land. These people of Orisia, they are unlike any I have met. Hard working and hopeful even after all the tragedy they have suffered. And they love [I]us[/I],” immediately Rommel would understand what Lucis meant by us—vampyres. “And she loves them, and I love her, and I can learn to love them if she sees something worthy in them. Join me. Swear loyalty to the Black Queen, when she returns” he added darkly.

“A man of your talents, of your ability is exactly what Orisia needs.”-

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[FONT=garamond]Rommel knew his liege to be a very proper, though passionate man. From the time he met him, he seemed bent on something. Though he never could understand the Prince's ambition and what it was directed toward. To see his expression change so suddenly upon getting to business made the large man shift uncomfortably in his chair, nearly snapping the structure with the sudden jostle of wood.

His lips met the glass once more after making a short cheers in reply to the man who sat across from him. Drawing from the pungent liquid was a struggle even for a man of his size and strength. The burn it gave was one that could prostrate an ogre, but he kept it down for now.

Lucis' news, however, forced the alcohol back into the glass and onto the table in a spattering of saliva. The soldier's surprise was one from comedy. He took time to double take, wiping the brown liquid from his stubble and onto the velvet cloth of the table. A brief remorse of the stained tablecloth was wiped away as he came to a delayed realization.

"[COLOR=#800080]The Queen?[/COLOR]"

He hadn't been one to believe such a thing. In his mind, the Queen was never present and he had always wondered why. Orisia had been his home for years and the only rule he was familiar with was the Court. It made sense that a distant ruler oversaw the land, though her absence made him rather sad at that notion. How much greater had this civilization been if she ruled from her throne? The two warring continents on either side of them would likely have been crushed underfoot, and their prosperous nation would see a new dawn as the pinnacle of dominance and benevolence.

"[COLOR=#800080]If by our oath we cannot act, we must seek other means to have her returned.[/COLOR]"

It wasn't like he had many ideas for the matter, he simply knew that returning the Queen was a must at this point. His patriotism was renewed to an all-time high as such. His mind raced with possibilities. They could negotiate a sort of trade, but Terrenus nobility would use the leverage they had to hold the transaction in their favor. Though a substantial plot of land and trade routes would indeed be a fair trade for their Queen; though She may not think so. Orisia could send in a secretive operation to retrieve the Queen, though once they knew she was gone, Orisia would be blamed. No, that wouldn't do. It appears Rommel would have to leave the negotiating to his superiors.

And he was fine with that.

Upon the news of a formation of Knights and his inclusion, his lips curled into a wide smile. His cheekbones flared upward, accentuating his awkward and remarkable grin; the look a child gives to a father returning from a long campaign, or a drunkard gives to a pint. The alcohol, however, was gone from his cup in seconds. He poured himself another shortly after, taking in the news rather cheerfully before raising his cup in good health to his friend once again.

"[COLOR=#800080]You have my blade, Lucis. In life and death, I swear my loyalty to the Black Queen. From here on out, you can count on me to do whatever it takes.[/COLOR]"

The chance he had been waiting for. A way to show Orisia his worth as a soldier and a patriot.

"[COLOR=#800080]Though what do you have planned to expedite her return? Surely the King of Terrenus isn't one to just hand her over.[/COLOR]"

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[FONT=Garamond][SIZE=2][COLOR="#800000"]-Hardly surprised by Rommel’s immediate interest in the situation, Lucis watched with mock disgust as the man poured himself another glass of the fire-liquid and drank it down as if it were nothing. Truly, the foundation of his gut would rival any dragons—even Lucis’. He breathed a sigh of relief that the difficult part was over, the convincing part. Now they could get down to the details, to the debriefing. Rommel was coming into a tense and complex situation, and it appeared that it would only continue to grow in such a manner. Before he could get on to the point of this meeting, he realized that he would have to correct much of the information that his dear friend possessed, beginning with the notion that Terrenus had a king.

“Terrenus is made up of a number of nations actually—and this Crimson King who has stolen our Black Queen is ruler of only one such nation, Patia. Until we learn the extent of his influence within Terrenus, the number of his allies, we cannot move against him—it could start a war.” Lucis said this gravely, his lips a thin and serious line that only barely hid his growing anger. This was not a man who marveled at war, though he was beyond suited for the occupation. He was a man who respected life and who dreaded the deaths of brave soldiers and innocent bystanders. This perhaps was what made him such respected leader—he did not regard his men as pawns on a chess board, they were his countrymen and women, they were his people and each and every one of their lives was precious.

“We must avoid war at all costs.”

His face was so dark now, eyes cast toward the fire, studying the glow. “We’ve sent diplomats to Patia—people without attachment to Orisia other than friendship and a fledgling loyalty. We hope that their presence will not be seen as an attack and that they will facilitate the conditions for the Queen’s return. They left about a week ago—we’ve yet to receive word from them.” The prince’s jaw visibly clenched and it was apparent that he was trying to contain something—but what? Changing the direction of the conversation he looked up at Rommel, “Meanwhile I plan to continue the Queen’s work and secure Orisia in all forms. I’ve found her notes—she wishes Orisia to be neutral gowns for magic and certain technologies. She seeks out a man by the name of Nicolas—sadly I have little more information, other than he is currently in Terrenus himself. He’s a brilliant inventor of some sort and someone who’s aid the Queen desperately sought before she was taken. I fully intend to find this man and convince him to extend his talents to help our people. This is where you come in Rommel—feeling up for a little adventure?”

Lucis smirked—when was Rommel not ready for adventure?-

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[FONT=garamond]While Lucis explained the situation to him, Rommel simply sat and listened, figuring it was rude to interrupt and even worse to not hear out his superior. The excitement of becoming a knight was something he did not think he would ever see in his entire lifetime. Though he fought more ruthlessly than any front line contender, his prowess would have put most knights to shame, but until now, the Knighthood of Orisia seemed to be reserved for nobility, and that just wasn't him.

His hands came to rest on the table briefly, gazing promptly toward his liege as he finished speaking of the task at hand. There were many things he wished to say, and he planned to get them all off of his chest. He spoke freely as he sipped liberally from the putrid alcohol.

"[COLOR=#800080]Are we certain this Crimson King hasn't done away with our envoys? What if he has thrown the gauntlet and the only recourse is to fight?[/COLOR]"

He didn't speak out of aggression, but rather concern. A person of his bloodthirstiness had believed the burden of death should rest on capable shoulders. Soldiers ready to die for their county at the drop of their superior's sword. He was one such soldier. If these innocents had been found out to be friends of Orisia and the King held the very Queen of their nation, he may take it as a threat. It all depended on why the Crimson King held her in the first place, and if he ever intended on giving her up. This would be a defining few weeks, he thought.

His own demeanor changed, however, and his questions seemed to disappear at the mention of adventure. To retrieve an inventor of sorts? Rommel supposed he may be able to establish new machinery in Orisia, and if the Queen regarded him as brilliant, he was at least worth a look. Then again, he was fully willing to follow Lucis into the deepest pits of Hell at a chance to prove himself a patriot.

"[COLOR=#800080]I'm always ready.[/COLOR]"

His thumb gestured to the six foot war axe that rest in the corner. Wrapped in a sheath next to it was a three foot long, foot wide sword tied with a black silk ribbon along the pommel, followed by a black shield with a white crest of Orisia on the front. Beside the fireplace was a leather knapsack that seemed rather packed full of supplies. Truly he was a man ready for adventure.

"[COLOR=#800080]Just tell me how many weapons I'll need, and who to swing 'em at![/COLOR]"

He spoke jokingly of course, sipping down the last of the strong liquor before letting the empty glass rest. Rommel always knew Lucis to be a man of action, he may as well have gotten the job done himself if this weren't a difficult situation.

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[FONT=Garamond][SIZE=2][COLOR="#800000"]-The Prince’s face grew very serious as Rommel gave his closing statement. It was, only after Rommel laughed that Lucis realized the man was joking and that he did not intend to swing away at anyone with that massive battle ax of his. For a brief moment, Lucis found himself second guessing his decision to send this massive war-ready man on a mission of relative peace. But one look at the man and Lucis knew the depths of his loyalty and the conviction of not only his weapon but his virtue. Besides, Lucis reasoned internally, Terrenus was hardly a peaceful land—that battle ax may have its use. Blinking clarity into his golden eyes Lucis took another sip of wine.

“I know I don’t have to tell you, but just in case you forget—this is a peaceful mission. The Queen doesn’t want to kidnap this man, she want to buy his services. Therefore you have full access to the nations treasuries, offer this man whatever it takes to get him to provide his aid—within reason.” He added shortly after, again unable to turn his mind from the most terrible of situations. But a frown soon followed as he tilted his head to the side, “Although I have a feeling that this man won’t be interested in coin—but according to the Queen’s notes there is something we might be able to give him.”

And so the night would go with Lucis and Rommel sharing drink and plans. More and more the prince explained how Rommel was to approach the rather confounding genius scientist. And of course, Rommel with all of his experience and world knowledge added much to the conversation. Soon enough they had managed a plan, and after giving Rommel a rough direct to head, he would take the man to the castle. He would nod to Frank on his way out, leaving the patrons to their drinks and lives.

[End Scene][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT]

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[URL="http://www.valucre.com/showthread.php/17374-Guvardian-Constance?p=225284#post225284"]Constance[/URL] was new to Orisia fresh off one of the merchant ships that had sailed into port, it wasn't hard for her to buy her way across the waters to the new land that was just freshly taken over. Having wandered through the market place and through various places she had come upon the tavern, it more than sparked something inside her. It had been a long time for her when she was traveling and with a place of relaxation was more than welcomed from with in her, she smiled as she watched as patrons moved in and out of the main door of the tavern.

With a black leather bag swung over one of her shoulders and a pouch of coins tied tightly to her waist near the pommel of her sword, Constance started towards the main door of the tavern. Pausing to one side to let another person by pass her, she would let her right hand reach for the door. Pulling the wooden door open her eyes would instantly adjust to the dimly lit tavern as she stepped through the threshold. The place appeared to be quite busy and bustling with business, with her left hand still clenching her bag over her left shoulder she moved towards one of the few open tables.

Crimson eyes would move through the room watching the patrons eat and drink, laughter sprouted from another table of gentleman as they laughed at a joke that had made it out of one of their lips. Impressed with the layout of the tavern and how elegant it was, Constance found the place quite comforting. Setting her bag in to one of the four chairs that surrounded her table, she would pull out another to sit down into.

Pulling her gloved hands to rest on the table top, her leg would cross over the other at the knee all lady like. Her skirt would move up a bit on her legs though it wouldn't reveal anything inappropriate, though it wouldn't be hard to notice her massive bosoms through her tunic. Long waist length white hair would fall to rest at her butt as she sat, some strands lightly hanging past the wood of the chairs. Finally settled she would watch as a man came to greet her without hesitation, he would introduce himself as Frank. Smiling through her soft pink lips. "May I have some blood wine, and some bread with cheese?" Yes it was unusual for vampires to eat human food but it could still be done, it was great to help sate the burn for the hunt only dulling the urge to feed on the warmth of humans.

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[FONT=garamond]Rommel found the tight quarters of the small room a bit too confining for his tastes. It wasn't ideal for him to be anti-social, though he rather enjoyed the company of Lucis. Getting to his feet, he shook off the first strains of intoxication before motioning for Lucis to follow.

"[COLOR=#800080]I'm sure we could find some entertainment downstairs as well. I'm feeling in a rather social state after this good news.[/COLOR]"

A broad smile curled over his lips before he strode out of the room, carrying the brown bottle of liquor with him. The intoxication had worn off just as fast as it had absorbed him. His regeneration was beyond that of a normal human, as such, he got sick rarely and attempts to poison him usually fell short. He walked with his shoulders crooked back proudly behind him, moving with the confidence of a warrior from the upper level into the bar.

Raising his empty hand in the air, he called a brief silence with a very brief howl of attention. Whether or not people looked at him was not of his concern, he merely wanted quiet for a short while.

"[COLOR=#800080]Countrymen, the next round is on me. Let's drink our fill![/COLOR]"

Pointing toward Frank with a stretched index finger, he gave a loud guffaw to flaunt his jovial mood.

"[COLOR=#800080]Not too much though. Don't want to start a fight tonight.[/COLOR]"

Strutting to the bar, he propped against it with his heavy weight and took a long, generous swig from the powerful draft. His eyes drew to a woman at a table nearby. Sparing her another smile, he rose the drink in short cheers before his attention turned to finding Lucis once more.

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-Frank was at the far end of the bar, behind it, busily wiping clean a beautiful glass with a white cloth. He arched a brow as the Prince came down the stairs with his massive companion. However, Lucis did not stop at the bar for very long, he settled close to Frank and set on the table five brilliantly polished golden coins, more than enough to buy quite a few rounds of whatever the small gathering of patrons decided to order. And the man behind the bar could only watch in amusement as Rommel demanded the attention of the room and proclaimed his desire to buy the first round.

“I am afraid business calls me away brother, but do enjoy yourself. I’ll send word with a guard when your ship and supplies are ready to carry you on your journey. But for now, the night is young and filled with beautiful creatures,” he said this as his golden eyes leveled with Constance. He smiled, but quickly dismissed himself after that. Not long after the Prince left, once the common folk of the tavern stopped holding their breaths at the realization that royalty walked amongst them, a unified cheer broke out.

Frowning, Frank realized it was going to be a busy night. He went down the line, asking what people wanted and delivering what they had chosen. When he came to stand before Constance he produced a lovely wine glass and from a dark red bottle poured out some of the finest red wyne in all of valucre. This wasn’t just wine mixed with blood—far from it! This was a work of art, and as soon as Constance graced the edge of the glass with her lips she would feel the delicious aroma of sweet grapes and soft virgin’s blood—untainted and pure.

“What about you?” He called to Rommel eyeing the brown bottle that the man was clutching to his chest, “That stuff will burn a whole right through your dick when your pissing, I’d slow it down a notch. Anything else I can get for ya’ cheef?”-

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Looking up to find Frank in front of her pouring her a drink in a wine glass, her attention had been on the man who came down from another place to demand the tavern to be silenced. He announced he was buying a round for the guests, and seemed over joyed about something. Her eyes would soon meet those of Lucis before he would exit the tavern, a soft pink would rise to her cheeks for a moment from the blood she had taken in quite sometime before she had arrived to the Tavern.

"Thank you, Sir." Her voice would be soft as she thanked Frank for the drink, letting her right hand take the wine glass delicately into her slender fingers. Raising the glass to her soft pink lips, the red liquid would stain them as it would pass them to enter and mingle with her taste buds. Her eyes would widen for just a moment as she took in the taste of the grapes, and that of pure virgins blood. Setting the wine glass back down, she would let the taste imprint itself on her memory.

With her eyes meeting those of Rommel, she took in his smile returning it with one of her own. The pink would stay flushed on to her cheeks while her crimson eyes would fall back down onto the wine glass in front of her.

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Twisted shadows folded in the shape of grace incarnate, he would move with such fluidity as to seem some great dancer upon a stage, his every breath that of pure glamour, his gestures that of a rock star upon his stage, everyone had come to see him and the spotlight was forever his. Yet amid such a charismatic charm, there would be a hint of darkness a feeling like the sinking of a casket into the earth as crimson eyes watched the world with only amusement. The door would open to the tavern, the tall raven haired figure taking in his surroundings with only the slightest hint of distaste gracing his noble features. Yet when he moved it would be as if his frame contorted in the embodiment of poetic motion, his stride like a leaf on the wind, and even still it bore the sort of confidence which often saw to it that a man found himself in trouble not that he cared for the world was his bitch and if it didn't like it, well fuck it. Everything about him was exactly as he meant it to be from his custom tailored black slacks to the finest darkened silks which graced his perfectly sculpted upper body, indeed he mused he was a work of art.

He would glide into a booth paying little mind to patron or proprietor as if he had merely chosen to give this place the honor of serving as location for his presence. A cigarette would grace his beautiful lips as a faint ring of smoke found itself exhaled from spiraling up to the ceiling crimson eyes watching it so attentively as if they found it far more interesting than anything going on around him. Though in fact he was struggling to put a name to this perfection he had stepped back into, there was more to this beautiful stranger than met the eye. He could only recall pain, some sort of suffering a twisting of sanity which had deprived him of his years though he tried with all of his will, it seemed to him, he could not recall his origin or the reason for his pain, this desire for the deaths of others that seemed to contradict with his emotions in such a devastating way. Though in that moment of clarity the name of perfection found its way into his mind, it was Vittorio Vaztial.

The name would seem to drive the insanity away, its music falling from his ears as for perhaps the first time he truly saw his surroundings. Memories found themselves slowly returning to him, the prince of nightmares someone had called him, though he could not remember why, though he was certain it could be for no reason born of good intent or action. Some pain had twisted his soul and he had taken it out on the world and might yet still if he could remember the reason for the atrocities which danced in his dreams, deeds for which he was sure he was physically responsible. He would rise seeming to glide across the room to the bar, his lips parting to an accent rich with his travels, but possessing a predominantly French sound. " Pardon me but perhaps you would have a good wine? A Domaine de la Romanée-Conti perhaps? "

He had not tasted a good wine in sometime, a fact which seemed to disturb him for some reason he could not fathom. Perhaps it had been part of his social standing in this life he could not recall but as he waited for his drink, he would attempt to silence these whispers, whatever his circumstance or sin it was in the past, and this was his present, and that meant it was this moment in time that he had to focus on, to take hold of existence and charm it until it spun itself around him instead of carrying him along , yes indeed he meant to make one hell of a show of a show of this night.

Much to his surprise and delight, though he would soon find a bottle of his very craving before him, a bottle which he paid for using a large sum of gold, which he could not remember the acquisition of. He would pour some of it into a glass which had been proffered with the bottle. He found it odd the sense of excitement with which he beheld the glass turning its liquid just so watching it lap against the sides before taking a small sip which rolled upon his pallet with almost the manner of which clay rolled upon the sculptors hand, and in a moment a thought came to his mind. He could almost see the orchard from which the bottle had come, and it brought a earth shattering smile to his face as if the sun had peaked from behind the clouds but for an instant, only to be shrouded by the storm once again.

He would seem to lose his momentum as he stared into the glass, his fingers drumming ever so silently on the bottle in front of him. How exactly did one have a good time, when one knew not who they where completely it would seem, he was going to find out one way or another. His body craved interaction, the scents the sights the sounds and he could deny it no longer. The question it seem was now that he was here .. what exactly in the blue bloody hell was he going to do?

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