Guest Moderating PCs Involved: Hadrian, Kendall & Sondra Timestamp: 76 Summer 511 AV Approval don't be afraid I threw us into the flames where I felt something die 'cause I knew that was the last time the last time let it burn, oh no let it burn - adele - Firelight threw itself at the night in reflection off the numerous windows cluttering the stone face of the building tucked into an otherwise dark bend of the Noble District canal. Black water gnawed on the sides of the ravosala that bore the outlanders ever closer to their new lodging, its liquid teeth ever so much louder than the fading din of Ravok nightlife. Leth’s moon looked more like a skull hanged from the floor of the Ukakas than a celestial orb, hollowed out and withering with the color of decay. It offered little illumination to campaign for space with the torch light lining bridges stretched like rib bones above. An hour previous the strange little traveling party had been accosted by the harried landlord from whom they had rented rooms for the duration of their stay. A wealthy and influential guest had arrived unexpectedly. It was terribly inconvenient, but their rooms were in high demand. She was so sorry, so very, very sorry, but they had to vacate immediately. Their monies would be refunded, of course, not to fret, and she had arranged for a ravosala to bear them to a bed and breakfast owned and operated by her dearest friend. A complete gentleman, well known about town, very proud of his little inn keeping hobby, wasn’t he? That’s right, Mister Alander Jin would see them to fine rooms, finer than her’s (though don’t go spreading that about now, eh?) and at a discount too for their trouble. Once again she was sorry, so very, very sorry. The waiting ravosala was loaded with their belongings and next their selves post-haste, set swinging out into the broad waterway with a merry whistle from the boatman working the long pole to navigate them deftly through the canals. The boatman’s tune bounced off the wood and brick walls of Ravok, echoing down the liquid corridors in eerie reverberations. It snapped out like a sliced ribbon, the slow fade lost in the thud of the ravosala against the pilings as they docked at their destination. The bed and breakfast had been crafted tall and narrow, hunching up at the watery alley’s end with a gray face and intricate iron work decorating the eaves and window sills like lace. Flowers popped colors of sea and sky up the worn steps to the door where colored glass bled rainbows in the torch light. It appeared sturdy and welcoming with a tiny, hand tooled sign hung from a hook by the stoop that read: Xieroh Bed & Breakfast A. Jin, Proprietor A tidy young man with a thin scar slicing a scimitar from temple to jaw greeted the transports within a tall foyer boasting of a checkered tile floor, wood paneled walls and a chandelier that jingled softly in the breeze coming in through the opened windows. After promising to unload their luggage above stairs, he urged them to take dinner in a small dining room off the courtyard. Xieroh’s was, by all accounts, far pricier than the modest inn Kendall and his companions had been so politely ousted from; but discounted, their former hostess had reassured, rooms rated exactly the same for the inconvenience. Once they were comfortably ensconced at a table spread with a variety of simple, well prepared foods served on hand painted plates, the young man retreated, disappearing back into the bowels of the bed and breakfast before anyone could think to ask after his name. They would learn it in time. |