Rumours of Beauty

by **Verin Rush** on July 2nd, 2014, 8:58 pm

26th Day of Summer, 514AV

Though the bell was late, and Verin had been working for a number of hours already, the young man was not wearied as he worked behind the bar of the Malt House. It might have been the buzz from the badly drawn pint, which he could not sell and thus kept for himself and was sipping from slowly, or from the general atmosphere of the rest of the tavern, where all the patrons were gaily talking. Personally, he imagined that it was because, for once, for the longest time, perhaps almost a season, there was not talk of the 'Monster' or 'Fish' that stalked the waters deep below Ravok. This Fish, if stories were true (which they must be, as the Black Sun had announced it themselves), was becoming more and more bold, terrorising the city.

But tonight had not been a night of that, for a nephew rumour was spreading rife through the city - a rumour of a new beauty at The House of Immortal Pleasures. A young girl, one of unimaginable beauty. Long blonde curls, which reached to below her pert breasts, and crystalline blue eyes, the same shade of that of Lake Ravok when Syna's bright light blessed the waters. Clear and pure, just like her soul. A beauty that, it was said, could only mean she was decended from the Gods themselves. She could be the prize of any man for a night, for the right price.

Verin and his younger twin brother had spent many a night in the comforting arms of the women who served at the whore house, and they knew of what treasures the house held, and how well their money could be spent. If the rumours were true, and the young bartender had to admit he was intrigued by them, Verin would take the time one night to pay for her company. "Verin!" The summoned looked up to meet the eyes of one of The Malt House's most regular punters, "Pay attention, lad. Where's your head at today?"

“Sorry, Bennett. The usual, I assume?” The man nodded, still watching the blond with an intent gaze, one which often didn't appear on the simple-minded man's face. Verin turned to the shelves and pulled out a flagon, then placed it beneath the nozzle from which the ale was released. Resolving to appear as if he was paying attention to his work (even though the unknown beauty was still on his mind), he watched as the golden nectar flowed into the large vessel each time he pulled down on the lever. Once done he lifted it up onto the wooden surface of the bar.

"I know that look, lad," Bennett continued as he dropped the coins into Verin's hand, "Though I don't see it all that regularly on your face. You have a girl on your mind. A new woman for our very own Verin? It it love? Or... no... the whore. Talk of the city, isn't she?" Bennett's smile grew into a grin and Verin opened his mouth to cut him off, but wasn't fast enough, as the customer turned, "Hey, Grayson! Do you need Verin tonight? His mind isn't on his work, it's in more... carnal things!"

by **Verin Rush** on July 2nd, 2014, 9:45 pm

The owner of the fine establishment shared a grin at Verin's expense, and returned that, if Verin should hope to afford such a renowned beauty, he would need to be working tonight. Unable to help himself, Verin threw a filthy look at the pair of them, but then smiled to show that he understood the jest. “If Grayson really cared about my libidinous requirements, he would certainly pay me more.” The droll, sarcastic tone was of a more subtle comical natutre, one that Verin preferred over Bennett's, and even and Grayson's, much more crude, open jokes, but the two men knew him well enough to laugh with him.

"We should be careful, Grayson - if we're not careful, we could turn young Verin into quite the lecherous machine." At this, Verin laughed aloud as he picked up his own small mug and took a swig of the overly frothy ale inside it. Other regulars were beginning to listen into the conversation, and were calling out in agreement. Apparently all of the older men present, who had previously been talking about paying for the girl's services, were now planning to live vicariously through the elder of the Rush twins.

“If I do, Bennett, it is only because I have learnt such ways from spending too much time around the true masters, and have learnt well of their sultry ways.” it was an easy counter for Verin to make, aimed true at all the men goading him into something he would happily do without their support. It was not that Verin was a particularly misogynistic man, but nor was he overly chivalrous. The girls were on offer and he saw no shame pain doing as many men did and taking advantage of that offer. What slightly annoyed him about this conversation was that he had never been one for "kissing and telling". He had never appreciated such conversations, but he was working, and he would put on his best face for the sake of the business.

"Aww, dear Verin, I do hope we have done justice by you, then. Wouldn't want you to bring shame on us." He spoke as if he were Verin's father, and Verin allowed it; he had grown up around the man, as Bennett and Vilkas had gotten along as long as Vilkas did not insult the Defiler or Ravok. A new customer arrived and Verin turned away, moving slightly down the bar to greet this man, so he didn't have to chance to continue his banter out conversation with one of his most favourite, frustrating, customer.

“Welcome, what can I get for you tonight, Sir?” he asked, the conversation he had just had having risen his spirits, so his tone was bright. The man asked if he might have a meal and Verin frowned, displeased that the second thing he would say to the patron was something negative. “I'm afraid that the kitchen is closed now...” he trailed off as he watched the mam's expression drop in displeasure, and he quickly thought on his feet, “but we may very possibly have some bread and slices of meat left, if you would like me to..?” the man nodded and Verin allowed the smile to slip back onto his face before he headed out to the back.

Frantically, he searched around the kitchen. Today had gone so well, so far, no complaints, none of the darker rumours which had been weighing down on his good mood each day. But there had been none of that today, and he wasn't about to allow that to be ruined. But it didn't take long; he found what he was looking for, and placed a large cutting of bread on a plate, with some sliced ham beside it. It was nothing special, nor was it particularly well made, in an aesthetic sense, but it would do, he decided.

by **Verin Rush** on July 3rd, 2014, 2:37 pm

Returning to the bar with the plate, the customer did not seem all that impressed with what he was being offered, but he was grateful anyway that he was getting food when the kitchen was closed. “I apologise for not being able to offer you a complete meal, Sir.” He spoke sincerely, particularly as the man had not yelled at him for a fault that was not entirely his own, “For it, I think a modest charge of... a silver miza would be reasonable, would you not agree?” It was a number from the top of his head, as he ignored the expenses lost from meat with the current Fish problem.

If anything, he was undercharging; at this time, meat was a delicacy in Ravok, given the efforts that people were going to against the Fish that occupied Lake Ravok. But it was still a sparse meal, and he could not recall seeing the clearly well-to-do gentleman before and wanted to ensure that he would return to give his patronage to The Malt a House again. The man nodded his affirmation of the negotiation and Verin smiled once more, “Can I get you a drink with this meal? I would suggest a cool ale or even a red wine.”

After a moment's thought, the customer requested a large mug of ale, which Verin happily acquiesced to. Grabbing a large pitcher, he pulled down on the lever a number of times to pour out the ale. It was slightly frothy and Verin took care to allow some of the head to spill over the side of the mug in order to ensure most of what the vessel held was actual drinkable fluid. Once done he placed it on the surface next to the plate of bread and thick-cut ham. “That will be three silver mizas in total then, please.” he was given a gold miza and diligently returned seven silver ones to the man, who replaced them in his pocket and walked away with his meal.

With no one else waiting to be served, aver I turned around and busied himself with rinsing a rag cloth out and then slowly wiping down the wooden surface of the bar-top, which had become wet and sticky from spillages from various drinks. Whilst most did not mind it, Verin abhorred resting his hands or forearms in something that would only cause him to feel dirty, so he worked his hand along the surface, ignoring the slight protests from the two healed, intersecting scars on his right palm, which twinged as he stretched his skin a little too far with each push onto the sticky surface.

"You should save such hard cleaning for when you bathe yourself before spending a night with your girl, lad." Bennett's voice called to him again, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes, though was glad that his statement wasn't too crude. "If what they say is true, anything as fine as her will be loathe to allow you to share her bed with someone who looks and smells like a bartender." At that, Verin bristled in irritation. It was not particularly out of choice that Verin did the job, more out of necessity, when their father's money had run out, someone had to work fir income and this was all he could get.

His brother had never said anything about the menial job he worked in, but Verin knew that Venser was not impressed with the job that Verin currently occupied. But it was a little known fact that Verin strove for better, strobe to join the elite ranks of the Black Sun, to serve his God. When that day came, he knew he would no longer have to endure the ridicule he received from those around him... even if he knew their words were only meant to tease, as Bennett's had been. “Any good whore will allow any man into her bed and make them feel like Gods for the right coin,” he returned bluntly, and his words came dangerously close to blasphemy, “for that is what they are paid to do. Any pretty girl who refuses to do her job is not worthy of the looks that the Gods had bestowed upon her.”

by **Verin Rush** on July 11th, 2014, 8:22 pm

It was late, but the night continued on, people drinking more and more with each passing bell. It seemed to Verin that the growing threat of the Fish beneath Lake Ravok was driving people to celebrate anything they could and drink as much as they might- despite everything, Ravokian morale was still high. "Though," Verin thought as he carefully uncorked a bottle of claret, keen not to drop it and slice open his hand like he had not too long ago," that could just be here... and it could be the effect of the alcohol making them feel that way."

The cork was not an easy one to remove, and Verin bit on his lower lip as he strained his forearm and wriggled the screw in an attempt to loosen the airtight packaging. It was a nice bottle - or so he had been told, having never tried it himself - hardly a cheap one, so he expected it to be slightly more difficult to get into. Slowly, the cork began to move, and he released some of the pressure and eased it out gently, so that the contents would not spill everywhere.

At times like this, Verin often found individuals attempting to drown their sorrows, much like his father had once done, when he was alive. From those young childhood days, Verin and his younger brother had quickly learnt that it was not possible to drown one's sorrows (they could swim too well), having seen his father try and fail on most nights. He imagined that many heavy drinkers knew this small truth too, but that had never stopped them trying their damnest to succeed. Tonight, however, no one was sitting alone nursing their pint of ale or dram of whisky; interaction and laughter was commonplace, which lifted the spirits of even the most stubborn soul in the Malt House.

Pouring the wine out into two glasses, Verin looked up as the customers he was currently serving spoke, capturing his attention. The woman spoke quietly and Verin had to strain his ears to hear over the din of the more rowdy punters, but he managed to catch that they had only wanted one wine, the other order had been an ale. The bartender's brow furrowed as he glanced down to the two large glasses that he had poured out. But then he nodded, “I'm terribly sorry, Miss, Sir. I must have misheard you over the noise.” He picked up one of the glasses and placed it on the counter behind him before turning back to the pair and looking at the man in the couple, “What size vessel would you like, Sir? Pint?” The man nodded his affirmation and Verin smiled, returning the nod as he picked up the appropriate tankard and held it under the nozzle.

When the tankard was full, Verin released the lever he had been holding down and raised the flagon to place down beside the wine, “Terribly sorry about that,” he apologised again as he held out his hand and accepted the payment from the gentleman, who shook his head to negate any blame. “Enjoy your evening,” he said softly as the pair turned away to find a table in one of the quieter, darker corners of the tavern.

by **Alyra** on August 16th, 2014, 5:00 am

Verin :

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