Finally, an elderly woman, likely the one in charge of the cloth shop i had found after going to alot of trouble, approached the entrance. She eyed me with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"What brings you to our humble establishment?" she asked, her tone a blend of suspicion and practised hospitality.
i made haste to give her the instruction on the nature of garments i wanted done. this included the gloves and a several black hooded tunics that i would use at the watch .
*******
moments later,the lady had finished taking my order with minimal misunderstanding
Leaving the ladies to work on my order, I decided to carry on with my other obligations. Second on my list now had to be debt collection. Having spent two silvers already, it was obvious that if I wanted to get a sword, I would have to acquire more silver. Of course, I could as easily get it for free, but the thought of extorting something I was going to carry around for a longer period and use in many life-and-death situations was not such a charming idea. Besides, I knew there was a lot of work involved in forging such a blade. It was the least I could do to reward the effort. In dire times, however, I would not have hesitated.
Soon enough, however, I realized that my plans had suffered a huge blow.
After asking around for a while, it became clear that the only blacksmith in this town was located within the castle and worked for the house Umber.
It was then obvious that if I wanted the sword crafted, I would have to ask some official from the castle, something I knew would not work for me.
In truth, I began to contemplate a compromise. Apart from the fact that I wanted the sword to complement the image I was going to assume, there was no greater purpose it served.
I could easily defend myself without one, and in any case, the Watch did provide one after all, even though it would not have the specifications I desired.
Dropping the task, I decided to approach the last one. My hunger had also grown intense and quite dangerous. I realized that the more I walked amongst these humans without having fed, the more I was on the brink of losing control. Even the sight of kids playing around their mothers was a provocation, as I felt the flow of their pure life essence. I had to find the brothel fast or my vampiric side would lose its calm, and then only hell knew what would happen to this damned town.
Well, as it turned out, it was the one place easier to find. I just had to look at the thoughts of a newly paid soldier trying to hastily but discreetly make his way through the town. Following him, however, I realized that in fact, he had taken the long route and in the process, circled through the whole town just to come to the modest establishment.
In his thoughts, he had been trying to lose whoever was tracing him, namely his wife. Well, it evaded me why a person would commit to something that made him behave like a slave. Why not just stay single and fuck your way through life?
Anyway, the brothel was probably one of the best-preserved buildings in this jumbled town. That alone spoke volumes about its client base.
A mixture of ale and sweet fragrance met my overly sensitive nose, alongside rumbles and pearly laughter from its patrons.
I was not going to wait for permission to get in.
No
This was a place anyone was welcome during the day; it was public. Well, so was the tavern, except at the time I had tried to walk in, the door had been shut, thereby restricting my access. About the cloth workshop, well, as it happened, I had used a door only the employees were supposed to use.
One would think I should have known that earlier on, except at the moment there was so much in my thoughts.
Walking right behind the soldier, I found myself once again throwing myself into the public eye, but this time it was bigger and worse than the tavern.
Brothels were places where appearances were the first currency that bought attention; silver merely stamped it.
Almost everyone in the vast room had frozen in place on my entrance. I too was staring at the reason for "almost" and not everyone.
Right at the heart of the room sat Tyrion Lannister, surrounded by three women, all showering the guy with so much attention that no member of the group noticed that the previous chatty atmosphere of the house had died down.
Quickly breaking from my momentary daze, I slowly walked further into the room. My cowl was still pulled to the point where only my lips were visible.
Further into the room, I had spotted the soldiers from the previous night—at least some of them. I, however, decided that I would not be collecting the debt right away.
I would settle down, feed, and then the rest would follow.
The problem was that the whole place was packed, finding a spot to sit down was a task in itself. But that was certainly the least of my worries at the moment.
The place had apparently woken from their trance as well. I did not even see how, but I found myself being steered by a tall, plump lady who happened to be the owner of the brothel.
A table was cleared, and just as fast, it was suddenly full of beautiful smiling ladies. I found myself smiling as well. In fact, I now realized that the commotion had gotten the dwarf's attention.
He now had only one girl, and I had an urge to laugh when I realized where they had run off to.
Drinks began to fill the table, and after just taking a sip of the drink, I realized ale was not for me. I settled for the wine instead.
There was something very intoxicating about wine, whichever the age it belonged, and I soon found myself slowly wading right into the hype of the crowd. Something, however, was still at the back of my head.
Just like the wine, women were women despite the age they came from, and if there was something a woman was good at, especially a whore, it was smelling a broke man. With this place as full as it was and with almost half the eyes, if not more, always trailing in my direction, it became apparent that I needed a secluded place because the presence of this ladies was knocking my hunger levels high.
One lady in particular had piqued my attention. Devil only knew why the hell she was a hooker, and let it be known that in my lifetime, I had seen beautiful women, laid with them, turned some to my loyal followers, so impressing me was not an easy task. But hell, she was a feast. Everything in her body was perfectly shaped. Her smile pulled you in, and her eyes screamed 'take me,' and devil knew how badly I wanted to.
Such a lady could have made a fortune anywhere; why the hell did she have to contend with being used by any brute in this godforsaken town?
My eyes were fixed on her, and hers on mine, and I could see that in her thought, she thought that I had perfectly walked into her trap. Hell knew she had.
Gobbling down the last pint of wine, I smiled. Standing up, I took her arm.
"You certainly wouldn't mind if we went somewhere discreet, would you?"
She did not have to answer; her smile and her grip on my hand were all the answer I needed. I was about to leave when I stopped in my tracks, sensing the drunken presence of Tyrion Lannister directly on my path.
As I turned, there he was, four feet tall with a smirk on his face and a goblet of wine in hand.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Another lost soul seeking solace in the arms of the fair ladies? I must say, my friend, you have impeccable taste." The Lannister quipped, his voice slurred by the effects of his intoxication.
He then raised his goblet as if proposing a toast and continued, "I hate to inform you that in this establishment, there are certain rules. The lady in your company, my good sir, happens to be claimed—by right—by none other than the charming, witty, and exceptionally handsome me!"
The room erupted in laughter, and even the ladies surrounding him couldn't help but chuckle. Tyrion, despite his inebriation, managed to maintain a mischievous glint in his eyes. The noise, however, was nothing to me compared to their thunderous heartbeats amplified by the adrenaline in their blood.
"Fuck your rule, dwarf, now step out of my way," I growled, still holding on to the lady.
Tyrion, however, did not appear to have heard me. But I knew he had.
Seizing the opportunity to turn the situation to his advantage, the dwarf pulled out his purse and climbed onto a table. With a dramatic gesture, he raised his hand, commanding the attention of the raucous crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen! It seems we have a challenger in our midst," he announced, his voice carrying over the rowdy cheers. "Now, I'm a fair man, and I believe in rewarding talent. Whoever steps up to be my champion today will be handsomely rewarded. All the gold in this purse," he said, shaking the heavy pouch for emphasis, "will go to the man who ensures our friend here," he gestured toward me, "won't be leaving with the lovely lady on his arm, and perhaps a few teeth as well."
The room exploded into chaos as eager men clamored for Tyrion's attention. Soldiers, locals, and even some who had just wandered in joined the chorus, each one eager to claim the easy reward. The promise of gold was apparently enough to drown out any sense of reason or caution.
To the men, it was an easy chance to squash the foolhardy fellow who had drunk himself beyond reason or so they thought. To the women, it was a golden chance to catch the eyes of whoever won