Marcellus couldn't help but crack a half-smile at the unexpected encounter.
He had met Ingrid during one of his earlier visits to Mythralis, and she had provided him with information and companionship on more than one occasion.
"Why spy on me Ginger," he inquired.
She stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving him, and her scent filling the air with a sweet, intoxicating aroma.
"I heard you were back in the tavern," she said, her tone suggestive. "It's been too long since we last...shared some time, hasn't it?"
Marcellus knew that Ingrid was likely an informant for Captina Crowe or Edwin, and their previous encounters had been mutually beneficial. But he also understood that her company came with a price, as she was a courtesan who expected payment for her services.
Who is to say she does not go for the highest bidder?
He leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I've been preoccupied with some pressing matters, Ginger. But I could use your...company tonight. It's been a trying day."
Ingrid's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I thought you might say that. A man like you always has some trouble to escape from. But you know the price, Blackeye."
Marcellus nodded, aware of the arrangement they had established during their previous encounters. He reached into a hidden satchel of his cloak and plucked a silver coin.
"Consider it a renewal of our arrangement," he said, placing the coin in her outstretched hand. "Lead the way."
Ingrid's laughter was melodious as she accepted the payment.
She took Marcellus by the hand and led him down a dimly lit alley, away from prying eyes.
Marcellus followed Ingrid down the dimly lit alleyway, his decision driven not only by the desire to avoid returning to the governor's house but also by the need to maintain his persona as a pirate.
This is what a pirate would do!
The events of the evening had made it abundantly clear that he was being watched, and any connection to the governor's mansion would only draw more attention to him.
As they walked deeper into the alley, the sounds of revelry from the main streets faded into the background, replaced by the distant cries of gulls and the gentle lapping of water against the wooden boats by the river.
The air was thick with the scent of salt and seaweed.
Ingrid led Marcellus to a hidden nook nestled between two weathered buildings. It was a familiar spot, and Marcellus couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia.
The courtesan turned to him with a sly smile, her emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. "Welcome back. Here, you can forget about the troubles of the sea for a while."
The walls of the alcove were made of rough-hewn lumber, worn by years of exposure to the salt air and the elements.
A tattered, moth-eaten tapestry adorned one wall, depicting a scene of a ship sailing through stormy seas, a fitting image for the pirate-infested city of Mythralis.
As they settled into the cosy alcove, Ingrid poured them both a glass of rich, amber-coloured rum. The warm glow of the lanterns flickered, casting dancing shadows on the worn wooden table.
A narrow, circular wooden table lay hidden to the side of the bed. The table was lit by a flickering oil touch, hanging from hooks on the walls, its warm, golden light casting an inviting glow over the worn wood.
Ingrid and Marcellus lay on opposite sides of the bed, the bed creaking softly as they shifted, worn but comfortable, their cushions padded with faded fabric.
The oil lanterns hanging above provided just enough light to see each other's faces, their flames dancing in the gentle sea breeze that wafted through the alcove.
"Tell me," Ingrid began, her tone more serious now, "What brings you back to Mythralis? I smell that it's not just for the pleasure of my company."
Marcellus took a sip of the rum, its smooth, smoky flavour warming him from the inside. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Why do you think I left?"
Ingrid's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I heard the viper had left Mythralis"
Marcellus did not answer, the effects of the rum, the warmth of the alcove, and the fatigue from the day's events began to catch up with Marcellus.
He yawned, his eyelids growing heavy, and it became clear that exhaustion was getting the better of him.
Ingrid slowly took a sip of her cup, her gaze never leaving his face.
When she had finished her sip, she leaned back on his chest seductively rubbing his chest, a pensive expression on her features.
Marcellus sighed, his thoughts slowed, he had drank maybe a little too much. "Viper or not, I move myself!"
Ingrid's touch, as she reached across his broad chest and placed her hand on Marcellus's nipple, sent a shiver of pleasure through him.
"Of course you do blackeye, will you move me tonight?"
It was a fleeting but potent feeling, a reminder of the allure that had drawn him to her on previous visits to Mythralis.
Marcellus politely but firmly declined Ingrid's advances, emphasizing that he was focused on the pressing matters at hand and needed a clear mind to navigate the complexities of his thoughts.
"Ginger," he said with a faint smile, "I appreciate your company and your geniality, but I'm afraid I need some rest."
Ingrid, understanding his decision, nodded with a hint of disappointment but respected his boundaries.
Ingrid gave him an understanding nod. "Of course, I too feel sleepy."
Marcellus used his cloak as a makeshift blanket and settled into an uncomfortable but much-needed slumber.
Before long both had mysteriously fallen into a deep sleep.
...
The night settled into an eerie calm as Marcellus and Ingrid continued to sleep soundly in the secluded alcove.
The stones streets of Mythralis were bathed in the soft, silvery glow of the moon, and the distant sounds of revelry and the crashing waves of the sea created an otherworldly atmosphere.
Unbeknownst to the slumbering pair, two mysterious presences closed in on the hidden alcove, their figures shrouded in the obscurity of the night.
The moonlight, though dim and silvery, revealed just enough to tease the outlines of their forms.
The first presence moved with agile grace, silent as a wraith. Their silhouette was lean and agile, accentuating the angularity of their features.
Their attire was dark and nondescript, blending seamlessly with the night, and only a glint of something metallic at thier waist hinted at sinister intentions.
The second presence was a study in contrast. They exuded an air of calm and serenity. Their face was impenetrable, draped in flowing garments that whispered of ethereal elegance. Moonlight touched their features with an almost surreal glow, revealing the contours of a sleepy face.
As these two enigmatic figures closed in, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension. The streets of Mythralis, once bustling with life, had mysteriously become a silent witness to this clandestine encounter.