Caution: Mature Situations Take place. Timestamp: 69th of Summer, 503AV Ravok home of a god that had his share of a five finger discount in chaos, betrayal, lies and even evil, and yet when compared to places like Sunberth, the city built upon the glassy surface of a lake seemed actually civilized with its dealings. Yes even among all the chaos there was order and law, a bit of an irony or rather an oxymoron if one took the time to think about it. And yet for centuries it worked better than a well wound clock… especially for those that had been born and raised among the chaos that made up the city’s foundation. One such citizen was a woman, a mercenary by trade, choice and life, who had been named Cyllena on the day she had first screamed out into the world. A woman that hadn’t been back to the city of her birth for two years, but now that she was back well there was only one place she had headed to first after having turned in the slave that had ran away from the slave pits instead of facing death for having lost a fight. She had ventured to the house of immortal pleasures, after all the road was a long, lonely and ever so tiring part of her life now so why not unwind with a little ‘sinful’ pleasure. ~*~*~*~ The sound of moans, whether from pleasure or pain was unknown to all but those that were partaking in the miscellaneous acts, floated down the stairwell behind the sounds of booted feet as the walker descended down step by step from the one hour sprint with a rather handsome young man, who sadly tired out before Cyllena ever had. This was why she was coming back down toward the bar. She hoped to have another pitcher of wine before trying to locate another ‘gentleman’ to play with, though she wondered if any of the slaves among the workers would be able to outlast her this time around. After all it had been two years since she had tangled her limbs with those of a real man, but how does one especially one like Cyllena measure if a man was real or not? Simple if he could best her in not only in battle but also among the sheets then she would count him among those few real men among the world of Mizahar. Sadly the woman had not run into a man of such caliber. Alas Cyllena could not for see the future, and therefore could not tell that soon her life would change into one of more chaos than she had ever served up to herself. Waltzing over to the bar, she leaned her arm against the top and signaled to the barkeeper. “One pitcher of wine please.” The man nodded and soon returned with a glass and the ordered pitcher. Pouring herself a glass, Cy sipped upon the red wine as she looked around the milling about slaves and trying to pick out a new partner for the pleasure of primal battlement among the covers and pillows of a bed. However as she scanned the common room she didn’t take notice when the door of the establishment was opened for the entrance of a new customer. If she had she might have been a little dumbfounded at what had just walked in, as was many of the slave girls and a few of the males that weren’t above servicing the male customers as well as females. Then again it might be a bit hard to ignore the fact that many of the female slaves were quick to move in on the new customer, who Cyllena had yet to see due to her back being pointed toward the door and thus the person that had just strolled in for some fun of their own. |