Tepet Doneno
Third Coil Immaculate Scourge
It has been a particularly long day for the citizens of Chiaroscuro. The sun has beaten down with an unusual intensity, a palpable heat that claws at the glass of the Old City and permeates the mud and daub of the outskirts. It's been hot enough that some of the more dull-witted have tried to drink water straight from the harbor. Fortunately, the retching dissuaded more such foolishness.
Now, as the unmerciful heat begins to relent, the hard-working denizens of the City of Glass pack up for the day and take to the streets. A good number are content in returning to their simple homes and quiet family lives, but just as many head out for a quick drink in the local drinking establishments to dull the aches of the day and liven up a bit before stumbling off to bed.
Tonight, a little tavern just off the Plaza has had especially good business. The Hungery Wind Alehouse has been graced with the presence of a particularly exotic dancer, a woman apparently of one of the Crafted Races. She goes by the name of 'The Ebon Serpent Dancer', and claims to be of a race named 'Lamia' With the lower body of a serpent and the upper body of an alluring woman, there are few among the lower class of Chiaroscuro who are not intrigued enough to stop in for a pint. Her companions have been given some scrutiny, but the lecherous -and mildly belligerent- armored man has been written off as her bodyguard and the stiff Dragonblooded woman as her manager. A few of the more disreputable patrons have been eyeing up the Dancer's children, gauging the risks of the strange company against the potential profit of such exotic creatures.
Word of the peculiar band's presence has been spreading rapidly through the streets, drawing the attention of both he guard and other travelers. The guard will not make a move unless something untoward breaks out, but more than one unusual wanderer has already entered the haze of the Hungry Wind.
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As Syrenica's dance draws to an end a cry goes up, men and women alike calling for an encore. Their cries are plaintive and disappointed, the sentiments loudest from those patrons who have only just walked in. The musician honored with accompanying her performance looks hopefully at the Dancer, eager to have his musical talent associated with her hypnotic skill. Nearby her children are echoing the sentiments of the crowd, albeit within the watchful eye of Lance and Fortune.
Before Syrenica can begin however, a slight disturbance moves through the crowd. Someone is pushing forward through the throng, eliciting numerous curses and grunts of annoyance. The face that comes into view is unfamiliar, but haunted by the ghosts of some horror recently endured. At a glance there is visible in his hair a pattern of eyes, woven of differing shades that vanish when concentrated upon. Aside from their displeasure at being jostled, no one seems to notice the oily metal lines that whorl across his exposed skin, a pattern any servant of the Reclamation recognizes as Green Sun Tattoos.
Now, as the unmerciful heat begins to relent, the hard-working denizens of the City of Glass pack up for the day and take to the streets. A good number are content in returning to their simple homes and quiet family lives, but just as many head out for a quick drink in the local drinking establishments to dull the aches of the day and liven up a bit before stumbling off to bed.
Tonight, a little tavern just off the Plaza has had especially good business. The Hungery Wind Alehouse has been graced with the presence of a particularly exotic dancer, a woman apparently of one of the Crafted Races. She goes by the name of 'The Ebon Serpent Dancer', and claims to be of a race named 'Lamia' With the lower body of a serpent and the upper body of an alluring woman, there are few among the lower class of Chiaroscuro who are not intrigued enough to stop in for a pint. Her companions have been given some scrutiny, but the lecherous -and mildly belligerent- armored man has been written off as her bodyguard and the stiff Dragonblooded woman as her manager. A few of the more disreputable patrons have been eyeing up the Dancer's children, gauging the risks of the strange company against the potential profit of such exotic creatures.
Word of the peculiar band's presence has been spreading rapidly through the streets, drawing the attention of both he guard and other travelers. The guard will not make a move unless something untoward breaks out, but more than one unusual wanderer has already entered the haze of the Hungry Wind.
---------
As Syrenica's dance draws to an end a cry goes up, men and women alike calling for an encore. Their cries are plaintive and disappointed, the sentiments loudest from those patrons who have only just walked in. The musician honored with accompanying her performance looks hopefully at the Dancer, eager to have his musical talent associated with her hypnotic skill. Nearby her children are echoing the sentiments of the crowd, albeit within the watchful eye of Lance and Fortune.
Before Syrenica can begin however, a slight disturbance moves through the crowd. Someone is pushing forward through the throng, eliciting numerous curses and grunts of annoyance. The face that comes into view is unfamiliar, but haunted by the ghosts of some horror recently endured. At a glance there is visible in his hair a pattern of eyes, woven of differing shades that vanish when concentrated upon. Aside from their displeasure at being jostled, no one seems to notice the oily metal lines that whorl across his exposed skin, a pattern any servant of the Reclamation recognizes as Green Sun Tattoos.
Lance is just being friendly.