Closed A Second Chance of Grace (Bronwen)

[Wrenlo Gravence]

8th of Fall, 522

The red tapestry walls of the main floor set the mood upon entering the brothel. The candle lighting that flickers against the vibrant color put a dimly amber glow against the faces and bare skin of patrons within the crowded room. The lingering smell of perfume, sex, booze and tobacco was always the arousing feature for Wrenlo when setting foot into Brega’s, the first fresh whiff upon entry set off the hungry beast in him. He wasn’t quite the regular here, preferring to take the woman he could catch late in the night from No Man’s Land either behind the pub pushed against a wall or into the little privacy space of his home. Better odds if they had been renting a room. But from time to time he enjoyed the company from this petite and pale skinned blonde that worked the afternoon shift. She was a newer worker from what he could catch on in conversation and the last two rounds Wrenlo had with her seemed more devious than she let on.

He made a slow stroll to an empty couch that was centered between three couples mesmerized in groping. One whore stood up from the loveseat across with a open display of breasts playing peekaboo under her sheer blouse and pulled her client by the hand to leave the seat and led them up the stairs. In that moment Brega took notice of his presence from the far corner of the room and took a tick or three to cut her own conversation with another patron off short and sweet before coming over to cater. She sat herself along the arm of the couch and leaned into him, two arms wrapping around his shoulders and a hand came to rest on one pec with a soft massage. “Glad to see your handsome face, Wrenlo. Who are you here for today?”

“I’m curious if Noella is available.”

“Another fan of the new girl, hmm? Noella is here but she has her hands full up stairs for another bell.” Brega’s hand shifted off his pec to wave over a redhead who had a similar body type to his first choice. Her hair was in curls and her blue eyes sifted over his face and down between his legs before meeting Wrenlo’s eyes again with a smile. “Have you met Gretchen yet? She’s just starting her shift now. A sweet little peach if you favor the fruit.”

Wrenlo gave a moment to explore her looks and think. She stood ready before him, lashes fluttering all the while his eyes caught sight behind her of a woman leaning on the railing from the second floor above. She was tall and long limbed, not quite the flirtatious attire like the rest of the brothel workers. She carried a quarterstaff on her back which gave notice she was possibly a guard. She had a very familiar face, and he was all curious if this was the same woman he had a happen chance kiss with on the street. An odd approach in first stranger meeting, but it kept him interested to say the least. “You know.. I think I’ll take some ale in the meantime,” The redhead stiffened and immediately turned her back all while his eyes never left the brunette on the second floor. “You think your quarterstaff maiden would have a drink with me?”

Brega furrowed her brows, pushing herself up from off the arm rest. “She’s not for sale.”

“I never asked that.” Wrenlo gave a small smile, breaking his gaze to warm his eyes onto Brega. “I’m just being friendly while I wait around.” He believed she was more concerned about payment for a good time rather than the ale, and he only reassured the eight copper mizas for two mugs. Wrenlo hoped she might pass word even if it wasn’t in her means of business. All the while he kept making glances at the brunette when he could.

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ledger-8cm for two ale mugs

[Bronwen]

The old whore's eyes lingered on the blonde long enough for him to receive his order of two ales, then, with a huff, left Wrenlo at the bar and crossed the floor to the steps where she hiked her skirt up to her knees and stomped her way up.

"How much longer you on duty?" Brega asked, sliding in next to Bron and leaning her arms against the banister, mimicking the guard's posture.

"Hadrian comes in at sundown," she said, glancing sidelong at Brega, "so couple more bells. Is there something you need?"

The whore was quiet for a moment before obviously deciding on something, "Take the rest of the evening off," she said, then waved a hand in the direction of the bar downstairs, "That man there wants your company."

Brega straightened and made to step away but paused when Bron let out an indignant "what!?" and turned back to the guard.

"He's already turned down two of my girls, Bron. He's a good payin' customer, and all he's askin' is for you to have a drink with him." the old whore gave Bron a significant look that brooked no argument and added, "Do your guarding from down there while ya sip an ale. It's not that difficult, Bronwen." Brega turned away, leaving Bron to stare after her with a "get to it!" yelled out just before she heard a door slam.

Scrubbing a hand down her face, Bron peeled herself from the railing, descended the stairs, and sighed as she strolled over to the man sitting at the bar. She eyed the second full tankard sitting in front of the empty chair beside the stranger with trepidation before clearing her throat.

"Heard you were wanting-" Bron's words caught in her throat as recognition flared her eyes wide and caused her jaw to come slightly unhinged. After a tick, she managed, "You...I know you!" Bron shook her head as a grin threatened to turn up the corners of her mouth.

Taking the few steps around the man to the empty chair, the guard lowered herself and pulled the tankard to her lips for a long pull of its contents, using the time to wrack her mind for a name to go along with the man's familiar face. Lowering the ale back to the table, Bron still didn't remember the man's name and decided he had never offered it that night last season. The night she had forced a kiss on the handsome stranger. Bronwen's cheeks colored at the memory.

Bron gave the man a broad smile, knowing her embarrassment rode high and hot on her face. "It's good to see you," she said, then belatedly added, "again," with something close to shyness in her voice that surprised even her.

[Wrenlo Gravence]

Wrenlo was pleased to see the whore master take to his request. As Brega trailed off after pouring both mugs he leaned his elbows against the counter, cupped his drink with one hand and tilted it up to his lips to taste. From above him he could here the brunette uproar in shock to however Brega worded his invitation. ‘A pleasant sign..’ the mug never left his lips as he snickered lightly to himself between deep gulps.

It didn’t seem like she was disheartened though, with quick timing down to the bar before he could realize she was next to him clearing her throat. He glanced up from his drink with a crooked simper, content that his gut was right about her and she did indeed remember him. “Glad to see you’re well off and out of shadowing I hope.”

Setting the mug down Wrenlo pivoted to face her, one elbow still propped on the counter with his knuckles holding his head in pose, the other arm hanging into his lap. He gazed over her features a bit longer trying to familiarize himself with her. “I’ve been curious about you since we last met. Honestly the last place I’d expect to see you again. Guarding the brothel even.” His gaze stopped at her smile, it made him shine his own in return before continuing. “My name is Wrenlo. I’m a Weaponsmith at the Knight’s Armory. And you are?”

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[Bronwen]

"Bronwen Druva," Bron replied, then belatedly cursed inwardly at the given surname but continued, "You can call me Bron."

The guard looked around the gaudy confines of the brothel and shrugged, "It's an easy enough job and one that I fit, I guess," she smiled, "The Knight's Armory," Bron repeated, letting her gaze rove over the man's musculature. While Wrenlo was, indeed, muscled, the man did not possess the thick, bulging muscles she would have thought a blacksmith to have, though she did not mention the observation.

"I have not been long out of the shadows," Bron mused against the rim of her goblet before taking a long drink, "Thank you again for helping me that night. I'm not entirely sure what would have become of me had you not been there," Bron shook her head, "The men trailing me were not out for a stroll, that's for sure."

Turning to face Wrenlo, Bron couldn't help but drop her gaze to the man's familiar lips before meeting his gaze, "You played your part well," she said, grinning, "and for that, I owe you a debt. Perhaps I will buy you the next round?"

Just then, Hadrian's tall, dark-haired form strolled through the door, and by the look on her colleague's face, Bron knew the man's gaze was searching for her. She threw up a hand and glanced sidelong at Wrenlo, "Give me a tick; I'll be right back."

Bron stood and crossed the distance to Hadrian, who immediately took her elbow and led her to the side of the room. Not quite out of sight, but far enough not to be overheard and leaned in close to speak to her.

"Several Daggerhands are on their way here," he said, voice calm but urgent, "and one of them was the one asking a certain cat-sitting street rat about you," Hadrian made a motion toward the exit, "better make scarce, I'll cover you until my shift."

Bron shook her head, "I'm already off by Brega's orders."

Hadrian frowned, "Why?"

Bron grinned, nodding toward the bar, "Seems a customer more willing to buy me a drink than buy a piece of arse came along."

Hadrian's eyes slid to the bar, and Bron thought the scowl and lingering narrow-eyed gaze Hadrian gave Wrenlo was a bit much, but it still made her smile. "Well, take your drink-buying arse dodger somewhere else," Hadrian said, sweeping by Bron and taking the stairs two at a time.

Bron's long legs closed the distance between her and the bar, where she downed the last of her ale with a satisfied sigh. Turning to her new companion, Bron reached out and grabbed the man's hand, "Come on," she said, tugging the handsome man to his feet, "let me buy you that drink," she winked over at Wrenlo as they made to exit the brothel, "where's your favorite place to get properly shyke faced?"

[Wrenlo Gravence]

To have Bronwen take him by the hand in lead felt bizarre. It gave Wrenlo weird tingles he couldn’t fathom yet his body reacted impulsively to her, quaffing his ale before she could pull him away from it unfinished. Her hand was soft and her grip light so he tightened his and pulled himself in close to her side, boasting a smug crooked grin all the while. “Let’s lose ourselves in No Man’s Land then.”

The scuttle of foot traffic surrounding Baroque Bay was heavy like always, most commuters hanging front for Slaver’s Row and Tall Johnny’s. The tavern is crowded in return to business and Wrenlo pushed his way to front of bar with a hand gripped to Bronwen’s arm as to not lose her through the bodies. Even during her busy bells of the day, Lana was broad smiling and welcoming. “Wren!! Happy to see you! Karos must not be far behind, let me get your mugs.”

“Not this night, Lana, but I’m here with a friend and would still appreciate the mugs. Thank you.” Wrenlo returned a toothy smile before turning his blue eyes back on Bronwen. From behind her through the shifting crowd there was a small lit table for two in the deep corner of the pub. He gave a light nod towards the table for Bronwen to notice. “Let’s snag the table, yeah?” He made steps in the direction before she could answer and pulled a seat out for her before he sat in his own. He leaned deep into the back of his seat, the two front legs of his chair lifting off the ground as he propped a foot against the table.

“Your brother in arms didn’t seem to keen on you leaving with me.” Wrenlo chuckled lightly before continuing. “Did I screw up your bells today? I truly apologize. I really couldn’t help myself.” In that moment Lana was pacing her way over carrying two mugs in hand.

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[Bronwen]

No Man's Land...

Bron cocked her head at the name, trying to remember if she had ever been, then deciding she hadn't. Or, rather, she didn't remember if she had.

Once the pair were outside the brothel, Bron let Wrenlo lead the way, content to be guided along the dirt-packed and often muddied pathways. Once at the tavern, Bron had to bite back a curse. The place was busy, packed wall to wall with patrons, and Bron was supposed to be keeping her head low. On second thought, the guard frowned inwardly; why was she supposed to be keeping her head low? Just because her daddy said so in a cryptic message?

It had been more than a fortnight since Bron awoke to that message, and for all she knew, whatever had been going on had blown over now. Holding her head high, deciding not to let her father dictate her paranoia, Bron smiled at the barmaid before meeting Wrenlo's gaze and following it to the table he indicated with a nod of her head.

She lowered herself into a chair, and couldn't help but grin at the man's laid-back posture, giving his statement a slight shrug.

"Hadrian wasn't too keen on me leaving the brothel at all," she said, removing her elbows from the table as the waiter placed two mugs in front of her and Wrewnlo. Once the woman had moved away, she continued, "I only had a bell left to work," she smiled over the table at Wrenlo, "it worked out, no need to apologize."

Bron fell quiet, drinking deeply from the mug, the small, insignificant weight in the right pocket of her britches feeling suddenly burdensome. Bron had forgotten she placed the small vile in her pocket before starting her shift at Brega's. Blike, Bron learned, was the name of the blue powder Dalavesta had left for her, along with another cryptic message, was the guard's newest weakness.

Shifting around on the chair, Bron subtly dropped her hand to the bulge in the side of her pants, trying to situate the small bottle so that its lure wasn't felt quite so obviously against her thigh, then reached for the half-empty flagon of ale, draining the last of it in one long gulp before lifting a hand to a passing waiter.

"A double shot of whiskey and whatever my friend here wants. My round," she gave her blonde companion a challenging grin, "better catch up, Wrenlo, best not to let a girl drink you under the table."

The waiter left to fill their order, and Bron turned back to face the man across the table from her, coking her head curiously.

"So, tell me about yourself, Mr. Wrenlo."