It was always there in his dreams. Konrad sat idly on a hill of grass that lingered just at the very edge of a vast beach. He had never seen a beach before, didn't even know that's what it was called until he first laid eyes upon it. Its name drifted through the air, landing on the surface of his thoughts, and he uttered it each time his dreams took him here.
The Grave Shore.
The dream was shockingly more lucid than any other he ever had; it was as if he were actually here. The sounds of the waves brushing up against the white sands was mesmerizing, hypnotic even. He found himself sitting on the grass dune, his fingers sinking into the soil and sand. Shells coated the shoreline, and he felt pain whenever he got up and walked over them.
Konrad kept watching the ocean, not wanting to listen to the whispers behind him, or look at the dark iron chest sitting motionless under the lip of the hillside. Every time he looked at it, during previous times he had this dream, it looked like an ancient and gaudy treasure; it promised him power in the form of knowledge, he knew that much, and it terrified him.
What it was doing there, how it got there, or even what it was, Konrad had few answers. Ever since… Ever since his mistake, that specter loomed in his dreams like a seductress, begging him to unlatch its hinges and open its seals. Whenever he did glance towards it, he would come to instantly regret it. It was getting harder and harder each time, not to simply walk over and see what was inside. Somehow he knew though that if he ever did… It could never be closed again…
Konrad woke from the dream. In place of the nurturing sounds of the waves brushing against the sand, there was a ruckus of drunken men and women pleading for another round. The Lady of Midnight was a dour establishment in the corner of the Attila district; it was a seedy place for military aged men to enjoy themselves. The inside was brimming with smoke, and the felinid servers were more than happy to earn their tips.
Konrad had chosen a seat in the corner of the tavern, almost completely out of view, and paid for his drinks with silver. His hat sat idly at the center of his table, as lonely and isolated as he felt. He was happy to find an island of privacy in this noisy den, and while he did manage to get some sleep, it certainly didn't feel like it. In fact, Konrad felt like he hadn't slept in months.
His contact finally showed herself thirty minutes later. Had she taken any longer, he would've left. The woman was tall, broad shouldered, and moved with the grace of a thief. She seemed to glide through the crowd, avoiding the mens stares and their attempts to fondle her ass, as she made her way towards him.
She got to his table easily enough and sat down without asking for permission.
Konrad wasn't easy to impress, but her demeanor was something different, and so too was her stature. Her arms were thick with muscle, and her bare stomach was finely toned. Sharpened curves of sinewy muscle caught his attention, but not so much as her hanging breasts, which were dangling underneath her tank top with no support. Tattoos covered her arms, images of swirling dark flames, and beneath them were beautiful women whose stark nakedness was only covered by the markings.
"So, you are?" Konrad asked.
"Mammary," the woman laughed as she said it. "Just kidding. That's my street name. You can call me Monica. And you would be the daring Lord Shadow of the Underworld, the Lord of Lost Shores, and the King of Broken Princes; Konrad Navarro. Am I correct?"
Konrad leaned back, uncomfortable with all the new titles. "Just how many names are the streets going to give me?"
"That's just the newest ones. Bane of Light is still your most widely known moniker. After you came back from the lost expedition, you've garnered quite the following." Monica sighed to herself, her breasts lifting with each breath, and leaned back in her chair. Her tanned skin was glistening with sweat, each droplet explored the valleys and fields of her body. "Plus, that excitement you caused in the Livila district made quite the legend."
Konrad finished his beer, and within moments a girl with a feline tail and ears rushed over to refill it. Felinids were hyper aware of their surroundings, making them the perfect servers. They were almost keen enough to see through his shadow magics.
He really didn't want to talk about ancient, and not so ancient, history, despite his reputation.
"Well…" Konrad paused for dramatic affect. "You haven't turned me in yet, so I take it you're interested in the job?"
Monica shot him a smirk. "As long as your payment in gold credit is legit. Otherwise, I'm going to have to make up the difference somehow, and that bounty is quite enormous."
"Careful," Konrad leaned forward. "You keep selling yourself like this, and I might just mistake you for a serious threat."
Monica leered at him, her eyes speaking volume. Her body remained relaxed, however, despite the glare.
"Then again," Konrad added, his eyes drawn to her street clothes. The woman looked every bit as intimidating as she did flirtatious. She clearly liked the attention, or maybe it was a tactic to distract her enemies in a fight. "I wanted a skilled fighter, I wasn't expecting a punk… Or a hooker."
"Well, my skills are quite diverse, especially in the bedroom. Too bad for you, that costs extra." Monica leaned back against the wall, raising her arms behind her head. Her breasts jiggled from the lift, and they looked healthy and firm. Her nipples were sharp enough to poke against the fabric, while more cleavage was exposed.
"How much extra?" Konrad asked.
Monica shifted slightly in her seat. "For you…" Her eyes studied him. "Ask me again later, after we've discussed this little job of yours, and preferably after a few drinks." She smirked. "Don't worry, I don't think it'll take much to bed the man everyone's been talking about in the underworld."