PM to join Same boat, different places. (Lucillus)

[Elina Fenicha]

Same boat, different places
14th of Summer 514 AV

It was just a few moments before sunset, the merchants ring was still bustling with excitement. People moved all along the streets looking at the different wares inside. Elina had opted for the sculptor. The art seemed so much different from her own. For one the room didn't smell of burning coal much like her own forge at the Vitrax did. This shop on the other hand felt so much...different. Elina couldn't say why she felt this way, but such a thing was clear just in the way everything is placed. Most armory's and smiths have similar items organized with other similar pieces. Swords placed with sword as they slowly got larger in length, then it would turn to axe's and so on and so forth.

Yet here, there was no structure. Everything was just thrown around in a place that would just make it fit. Elina reached down and picked up a small piece, not much bigger than your hand. A few of the other works were of gods, this one was not however. It looked to be a woman, detail placed on this specific piece was lovely. Elina noted all the cuts and curves to give the woman her edge. A small chuckle came out of her mouth as she imaged herself doing something like this. Oh gods what her father would say if she came back home and began cutting wood to make little people. She smiled calmly at the piece while thinking of her father and of home.

Today was the first time Elina wasnt working at the forge two days in a row. Some for of extended training was going on and a few of the lower class workers were told to not come the day before, it just so happened Elina was one of those people and she didn't work the day afterwards as well. The woman looked a bit nicer than usual. More time was spent fixing up her hair as well as washing coal as well as any other signs of smiting work from her face. It felt nice to walk around the city with sweat not dripping down her face. Still, her sleeves didn't extend past her arms and the bottom of her pants were rolled up about halfway between her feet and knees.

Slowly the woman began to make her way out of the crammed shop. Her stomach was growling at her and Elina realized she hadn't eaten much today. The woman could pick up a quick ride from a boat and be over at the Malt House in just a bit. The food there was rather good as well as Greyson, the owner, being rather good at telling interesting stories. Elina had grown rather fond of this little city, she didn't know if little is the right word. Whatever the case, she made her way to one of the outstretched docks, looking for an empty Ravosala. All she wanted at this moment was to get some food, and eat it.

It didn't take long till a boatman pulled his vessel along side asking if she was looking for a ride. Elina smiled at him while also looking a bit nervously at the distance between the boat and were she was standing. One would think a woman who now lives on a city above water would maybe learn how to swim at some point, sadly this was not the case. "If I fall in her would catch me right? I mean...right.?" Elina thought to herself. Holding his paddle the boatman was begging to get a bit impatient and Elina stepped forward onto the Ravosala, not half as bad as she believed she would. Even if the woman still had to extend her foot a bit more than she would have liked the Boatman simply nodded and got ready to move along.

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

"Wait!" came the sudden, shrill cry. "Hold up!"

From the thronging crowd, departing for their homes now that the sun was failing in the sky above, he came. Men and women alike parted for him, intimidated by the furious pace that he maintained through the city streets. Bustling with a frantic energy to his stride, he charged towards the dock with the soon-departing Ravosala just about to push away from it. "Wait!" He called once more, his gaze looking wild and manic. "Don't leave!" In his hands rattled a tightly closed scrollcase, thankfully maintaining its lock and keeping the papers within secure. Thanks to his repeated, desperate calling, the Ravosalaman kept the boat just a step away from the outstretched wooden dock, clearly impatient to cast off and annoyed with this sudden interruption. Lunging onto the boat with little fear that it might tip over, the nervous newcomer gracelessly handed the Ravosalaman his usual fee. "Docks," he muttered, shaking his head and struggling to get his breathing back under control. "The Plaza of Dark Delights. Make it quick... and next time, hold the petch up until you've got a full ravosala. You shouldn't be in a hurry to get anywhere without one."

The boatman didn't think much of the man's impatient attitude, but nevertheless did as he was told. Soon he was pushing the ravosala down the canal and towards the first destination granted to him, bestowed by the woman that had been the first passenger aboard. Now that the chase was over and Lucillus Nitrozian had been able to board, the young lawyer could let his panic subside and take a deep breath. Giving a quick, disinterested glance towards the other person on the boat - Woman, modest clothes, middle class, boring, - he let loose a low sigh and collapsed onto one of the seats available on the ravosala. The scrollcase slipped from his hand and fell to rest against the bottom of the vessel, trusted to lay unattended by its owner. That girl doesn't look like a thief... If she ends up being one, petch me. Even then, what I do care if the scrollcase gets looted? It's all Nitrozian shyke anyway. His head tilted backwards until it was resting against the side of the boat, his gaze lost in the darkening skies above and his expression transformed into something approaching... contemplation? It was an odd look for Luc, at least for people that knew his regular behavior. The lawyer's thinking face looked like a wolf that had just tasted something sour and didn't know whether to continue chewing or spit the meal back out.

In that moment, he was aware of only three things. First, that the steady rocking of the ravosala in the quiet canal made Luc feel like a baby in its crib, giving him a deliciously safe sense of exhaustion. Second, that his throat felt strained and sore all over, probably ruined after the explosive tirade that he had launched against his client just a few bells before. Third, that his arm was buzzing uncomfortably with a hot, clammy sensation, prickling irritably and making his entire body start to sweat as a result. Luc knew that if he rolled up his sleeve and felt up the length of his forearm with his numb fingers, he'd find two puncture marks, already well on their way to healing, begging to be reopened by the touch of steel. Soon... soon I'll get my fill, and then I won't have to feel like I just swallowed Vayt's liver. He had felt the cravings occur around the middle of the day, subtle at first, but enough to fray his nerves to the breaking point. He wouldn't have up and yelled at his clients, insulting their intelligence and demanding that they use common sense for once, had he been able to ignore the constant buzzing that kept filling his ears and drowning out what little reason he still had left. Not that I regret yelling at them. Gods-be-damned, those pricks deserved it.

At first he thought this would just be a quiet ravosala ride that would occur with little interruptions, perhaps even allowing him to get a quick nap in before he began his night at the Plaza of Dark Delights. He already had a plan all figured out: First I'll hit Tine's and see if he's got any of the good stuff for me... if not, I can always check out Black Tar's and get a quick potion ordered up. Then I'll sign myself into the House of Immortal Pleasures and stick around there for... I'm feeling a few bells? If all goes well, I should be heading home two bells before sunlight. But the longer he sat in the ravosala, the more uncomfortable he grew, the pain in his arm starting to flare up into his shoulder and blossom from there. Luc's face, at first peaceful and content, slowly became more and more haggard, his already messy hair looked positively askew as he kept shaking his head and massaging his temples. Come on, pull it together, you dumb shyke... don't explode right now, don't explode right now... Eventually he let out a quiet, strained gasp, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his head in his hands. I'm going to kill myself if I don't find a way to occupy my mind. Meaning...

Abruptly, Luc suddenly spun about in his seat to face the woman, his fellow passenger on the boat. "Hiya," he said, offering her a charming grin. "Nice night, isn't it?" Already taking relief from the distraction provided to him now, the Nitrozian's eyes swept down the woman's figure in one quick moment and analyzed what he could of her. She's way stronger than I first thought... but doesn't look too masculine, which is nice. Blacksmith, maybe? Guard? "Do you mind if I smoke?" Luc then asked, already reaching into his pocket for his pipe and a pinch of Swamp Weed. "Or do you want to take a puff yourself? It isn't often that you get a chance to smoke some genuine Swamp Weed, so I advise that you seize upon it while you still have the opportunity. Once you get a taste, you're hooked." He winked to her as he lit the pipe, wrapped his lips around the end, and blew out a long trail of smoke that was carried softly down the canal. "You're a citizen around here? Or just moved in? I can assure you that we don't always have killer fish in the lake."

[Elina Fenicha]

Elina gave a small sigh as she heard the voice calling out to wait. Guess hoping for a calm ride was going to be a rare event. Never the less, Elina hoped maybe her passenger would have some kind of interesting personality to occupy there time. The man jumped onto the boat scarring Elina. The woman's hands darted to hold onto one of the sides untill she realized the boat was stronger than that and wasnt going to flip. Her new companion was out of breath from running to catch the boat, certainly there was other ships to catch but it made no difference to her. His destination wasn't that far from here own, she only hoped the boatman would travel to hers first. As for were he was actually going, Elina had an idea, but it was none of her business.

Not caring what this out of breath man was doing Elina turned her head to watch the people on land. Lights illuminated the rather dark area and soon enough the boatman pushed the Ravosala forward. Elina gave a quick glance back at the man who was now making himself comfortable on board. It was a different sight to see, Elina could never get comfortable on these. Especially with the rumors of a giant fish swimming around that eats all manner of things. Not much else happened until the man finally spoke up. He did let out a few odd noises here and there before hand, but Elina thought nothing of it.

It was him to open up the conversation, Elina didn't mind that much. If she wanted to get out of the conversation she could with no problem. The night was rather nice and Elina was going to comment on it untill he started speaking again. Before she could say "Yes, I do mind," The man was already continuing on with his sentence which once again shut Elina up. When he gave her a wink Elina couldn't help but smile. "Damn him, always the bad ones that know how to charm." she thought to herself before finally getting the chance to answer his question.

Fixing her sleeve she began talking, "Arrived last season as a matter of fact so not fresh of the boat, though I may as well be." She gave a slight look into the water before turning her head back to him. "Yeah, killer fish. Seems to be giving people quite the scare, enough to justify killing slaves for a small goal. As well as making it quite hard to get some decent food now." Once again, her stomach reminded her she needed to eat. A quick glance around and she realized they still had a ways to go before she would be seeing any food. "But seeing as how your asking me if I'm a citizen I take it that means you are Mr.Important, who lived here all his life and going to tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Elina said in a sarcastic kind of tone, with a smile on her face the entire time. "Who knows, maybe this character would be interesting," she thought.

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

"Arrived last season as a matter of fact so not fresh of the boat, though I may as well be." The girl began to say, eliciting an amused titter from the anxious Luc. Boat... as in the ravosala? Was that an actual joke she had to offer? Did the blacksmith really just have something funny to say? The girl didn't look dumb to him - and, being a lawyer, Luc fancied himself an expert in spying stupid from a single glance - but she was a blacksmith. By this point, he was confident that he could assume that, since her face was still occasionally marked by the grimy touch of the forge. At least she cleaned herself up today. Must look like a Yukman when she's in the middle of working. While armourers were indeed valuable workers in any respected city, they didn't tend to have the brightest ideas about anything not involving metal. Dull minds often make the sharpest blades, he had always believed... but the longer he stared at this girl, the more he had to give her credit. She's certainly doesn't seem to be brutish, ignorant, or simpleminded, and she's probably the most attractive arms-woman I've ever seen. And funny, too!... unless I'm reading too much into her comments. Who knows, perhaps the girl really was a dullard and Luc was just imagining cunning where it didn't reside, gawking at its shadow.

In truth, Lucillus didn't care one whit about the girl's temperament. He didn't care if she was funny, sultry, intelligent, dumb, or courageous. He didn't care if she was a blacksmith or a merchant or a whore. Right now, she was a distraction, and any relief she could provide him was priceless. Even now, Luc couldn't shake the overwhelming fever that his body was currently slipping into, his skin burning up without the beloved drug coursing through his veins. Damn it, I should have known better than to try this shyke. I've got enough problems to deal with, and enough withdrawals to suffer. The worst part was, he couldn't even remember the first evening he had gotten high on the junk that was currently giving his body a torturous workout. It was all a mindless blur, the memories turned black and distant by the chemical heatwave that his mind had been exposed to. He was left without the sensations of pleasure, and stuck with the knowledge that, sooner or later, he was going to burn up and die a sticky death in the back of a petching ravosala. It's alright, it's alright... all I have to do is hit up the Plaza for another round of the drug. That'll give me time to work out how I can kick it. The only thing he could do, for the moment, was to try and survive this trip through the canals.

To do that, he would have to pry apart every word this girl had to offer.

At her comment, "Yeah, killer fish. Seems to be giving people quite the scare, enough to justify killing slaves for a small goal.", Luc could only shake his head animatedly and chuckle. He then leaned forward, rested one arm possessively on the boat, and beckoned with the other that she should lean in closer. "You don't seem to understand where you live." He whispered excitedly. "This is Ravok, city of Rhysol - any amount of slave deaths can be justified, so long as you have the approval of the Stryfe." Turning his head back, Luc offered a mock bow to the Ravosalaman, who was pretending that he wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation. "Which is, of course, the Ebonstryfe's right, being the holy arm of our good lord. The lives of the meek are justly forfeit to their will!" To his credit, the Ravosalaman only looked unamused and continued to stoically pilot the boat further down the canal. Brushing the man off, the lawyer settled back into his seat and grinned at the girl. "You'll love to learn these guys. Gotta keep a straight face through everything."

Her next comment sparked his excitement even more. "But seeing as how your asking me if I'm a citizen I take it that means you are Mr.Important, who lived here all his life and going to tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Luc's smile brightened until his whole face was lit up with a keen energy, his eyes glittering in the rapidly darkening night. "Mr. Important?" He cooed, taking a long drag from his pipe and breathing out the thick aroma of the Swamp Weed from his flared nostrils. "I gotta admit, I like the sound of that. You know what, girl? I do feel a bit generous today, so I will let you in on a few rules of the city. Consider it my welcoming gift to you." Taking a low breath, smirking all the while, Luc flippantly gestured towards her clothes. "First off, your clothes. You're doing pretty good so far - the red is a nice touch. The colours that you wear make it easy for anybody that's lived in the city to know who's an outsider. You know who the Ebonstryfe are going to question first when they break down the door, no matter the cause?" He paused for a moment, allowing the drama of the moment to build up deliciously. "The person that's not wearing black or red. So you might want to invest in some darker clothing."

"Secondly, don't admit to people that you're not savvy to the city's ways, got it? Pretend like you already know everything." Reaching over to his breast pocket, Luc pulled from within his surcoat his citizenship papers, which he waved before the woman's watchful gaze. "This is the most important thing you hold onto in Ravok, and it's the thing that most people are going to try and take from you. As soon as it's gone, you can bet you'll be enslaved or worse. So keep it hidden, and don't give scoundrels any reason to think that you can be taken advantage of." With her muscles, she might be able to deter a few opportunistic hands from seizing those papers... but she wouldn't be able to stop all of them. "Third rule," he then exclaimed, pointing over at the Ravosalaman with the tip of his pipe. "Don't say anything around these bastards. Just pay them, tell them where you want to go, and sit down. That's it. Don't engage them in conversation, don't let them do the same to you." He turned and wrinkled his nose at the distracted boatman, grinning from ear to ear. "They hear everything, and don't like to keep it to themselves. The less dirt you can offer them, the better."

"Fourth rule, and this is the most important." He stared keenly into this woman's eyes, challenging her with his penetrating gaze. "I don't know how you feel about the guardian of this city, but if you don't worship him already, I advise that you start... today. Lots of bad things happen to people that don't heed Rhysol in this city. And really, what's the problem with tossing him a prayer every now and again? He's got more power than all the other gods combined, so you're better off making him happy. That's my advice to you."

[Elina Fenicha]

Elina noticed a distinct look from the man before he even began speaking. He was looking at her, not in the usualy way this was a observant way. Right now he was trying to figure out everything he could just from simple body language or the way he spoke. Could he tell were she actually was from? "That would be impressive", she thought to herself, "and rather interesting". It wasn't until now that she actually tried to look at the man sitting with her. His clothes were far more elegant than her own, not as if it was saying much. Maybe some form of a writer? The scroll case was certainly there for something, not just show. Perhaps a designer, architect? Too many options to make a good choice on his profession maybe it would be better to just ask.

The smith also noticed that something was bothering the man, most likely a bit of sickness. It was common this time of year. She wanted to tell him that whatever he was smoking certainly didn't do him any good, even if the man would just ignore her advice. As he leaned forward the boat shuffled ever so slightly, enough to make her hand dart to hold on towards a side. "Yeah, this certainly makes me look good," she thought to herself as she relaxed and leaned in, following his lead.

Slavery was such a shock to her when she first arrived, as a girl Elina had heard of the practice but never actually believed it to be like this. It actually made her feel awful thinking of such a horrible practice, especially when she learned how non-citizens are not safe from the practice. Times like that reminded Elina to thank Kian for the spear when she got home, not that she carried the weapon on her. Who knows if she would ever get the chance to even use it, would be waste of coin if so. This mans explanation for the slaughter of people didn't sit well with her. Elina wasn't about the love of all people but there was something strange about just killing for no goal. "I get the..practical reason of such a idea. I do." she was telling the truth after all. She then continued, "Yet, what is the point of buying slaves simply to give them a goal that is near impossible. Clearly the Ebonstryfe arent idiots but this is just impractical, who cares what the beast looks like. Get a bunch of bait and moment it comes up to eat, throw a large spear in it. Done." Elina Shrugged as she leaned back into her seat.

As he continued on his talk of things Elina should and shouldn't be doing the smith couldn't help but smile at him. Something about the way he talked just enticed her. "Yup, always the bad ones that get me." She thought to herself, smiling at the thought as well as the man. When he finished Elina took a second to think about what he had said.

"So, don't wear anything pretty because I will stand out." Elina looked down at her clothes, which she thought actually looked good. "Check." Grinning at the man she continued. "Act like a stuck up prick who knows everything...so just be most people. Easy enough." She said in her sarcastic tone, still unable to help the fact she keep smiling at him. "Dont let anyone take your papers...but be sure to show everyone girl the exact place that you keep them in, brilliant advice. Then be nice to the lovely boatmen." She gave a small wink at the Ravosalaman, "Check. Then last is to just love Rhysol. Pray a few times and good fortune will come to me? I like it."

Elina leaned her body over to the right, stretching herself out. It wasn't until now she remembered how great food would be at the moment. Looking back at the man she tilted her head and gave a small smile only slightly visable, "You wouldn't happen to want to go get some food instead of visiting that whorehouse would you?

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

It's such a good feeling, Luc remarked, smiling to himself all the while, to be pleasantly surprised. It didn't happen too often, for Luc was fond of assuming the worst of people, and since he was of the opinion that people were shyke, they usually lived up to his expectations. But this was different. His first impression of the woman before him - boring, barely worth a second glance - was swiftly turning out to be completely incorrect, rendered invalid by the emerging wit of his fellow passenger. She was funny, her quick tongue unafraid of lashing Lucillus verbally despite his apparent wealth. He admired that. And she was interesting, for most attempts of his to speak so candidly with another person resulted in them nervously stammering out excuses and eventually falling into silence. It was a test that he posed to them, a test to see if he could make them uncomfortable by adopting an undeserved level of familiarity in the conversation. He was so very glad to see that this woman did not fall into the same trap, but instead answered his challenge with an upheld head and a sarcastic attitude. Gods, she must be after my heart.

In fact, Luc might have been willing to admit to himself that he liked talking to this girl for the tangible joy to be had in talking to her. He had started this conversation with no more ambitious designs than to simply distract himself from the pain that his body was undergoing, as well as the stress that was slowly easing out of his mind. Today had not been a good day; besides the withdrawal, he had also been forced to contend with unhelpful clients, confusing and occasionally illegible legal documents, and a maze of complicated loopholes that he had been forced to dance under if he wanted to make any progress with the bastards. A group of four batty old women had particularly enraged him, for they were claiming that their store - which specialized in, what else?, petching fish - was running into the ground thanks to the recent embargo the Stryfe placed on fishing vessels, and were petitioning the Nitrozians for legal aid. They asked for this, in spite of the fact that their contract with the Nitrozians had ended two years ago, had been arranged with a different lawyer, and had been buried under a mound of disagreements the merchant house had come to level against the store. It was all a confused, tangled mess, and Luc would never have involved himself in the situation if he had the choice. But I don't have the choice... I'm a good little dog, and I fetch all the bones thrown for me.

So, to distract himself from his worries, Luc laughed. He laughed at the girl's comments, a clear and bright laugh that sounded entirely at odds with the darkly sophisticated man that he tried to appear. His dark eyes kept winking with light at her, his head resting comfortably against the ravosala railing. One arm was thrown out of the boat and swayed gently to the side, the tips of his fingers trailing softly in the dark waters of the canal. Wisps of smoke curled around his form, wrapping their hazy tendrils about his body and obscuring his face in mist. The heady aroma of the Swamp Weed made Luc laugh all the more, delighting in the savory scent of the smoke. His other arm, the one that still prickled and stung with keening pains, rested on his lap, the only sign of his discomfort being the bared hand that tightly gripped his thigh. At her comment of, "Act like a stuck up prick who knows everything...so just be most people.", Luc beamed and gave a slight, submissive bow of his head. "Correct," he murmured, admitting that her observation was probably the most insightful ever made about the city of Ravok. Her next statement, "Dont let anyone take your papers...but be sure to show everyone girl the exact place that you keep them in, brilliant advice.", made him throw his hands up into the air in mock surrender. "You have me there - but, then again, somebody always has to serve as the example. Let's hope that it's not you one day, hmm?"

Her question to go grab some food together interested him, and he was almost tempted into accepting the offer... but another spasm of pain from his arm dissuaded him from that notion. I can't just have a nice evening to myself with a smart girl, can I? Luc thought, and then realized that he was right. He couldn't have a pleasant evening with just this woman, food, and his own thoughts for company. Sooner or later, I'll find something about her that bores me... I may not have sniffed it out yet, but it's bound to show up. And when that happens, I'll be sitting alone in a tavern with a bill to pay, food to eat on my lonesome, and an even more insanely painful itch to get my system filled. There's no way I can pretend to have a normal dinner with somebody, and no way I can fool myself into going along with this girl just because she's funny. Come on, Luc, I thought you were smarter than this! Clearing his throat, the lawyer settled back in his seat and waved the girl's comment off. "It isn't just a whorehouse, I'll have you know. The Plaza of Dark Delights caters to every need you might have in Ravok; it offers more sophisticated pleasures than a hole to be petched. If I was looking for that, I'd just stick around the ravosalas." This comment was delivered to her with a playful wink.

Then, he was suddenly leaning in close and whispering to her conspiratorially. "I have a better offer for you: since you're new here, and would probably get swallowed alive in the Plaza if you didn't know where to step, why don't I show you the ropes? I know the area better than most - I know what place has great food, good music, and what place doesn't. I know the corners to avoid. I know the thugs to pacify. I know the bartenders to charm. Trust me... this is the best offer you're ever going to get if you want to visit the Plaza one day." Every word was delivered softly, with seductive intent. His eyes were fixed upon hers, and he rested his still-wet hand just inches away from hers on the railing. "I know one place where you can find actual pork, dusted with the best spices you'll find this side of the Suvan. You can't get that kind of meat commonly in the city. Interested?"

[Elina Fenicha]

"Well, I can make the boy smile. That's a start right?" Elina questioned to herself as the man contemplated her question. "If it wasn't for whatever it was he was smoking I would be forcing him to dinner with me. Any man that uses a pipe just looks so disgusting. Ugh, I cant stand it." Of course the clever banter the two shared over Elinas previous statements certainly helped her feelings towards the man as well. He was clever, much more clever than her. Many of those rich men all seemed to have a clever tongue. Along with just a natural handsome look. Even if this mans actually physical strength looked to be a bit lacking, his face more than certainly made up for it.

Elina realized she was starring as well as smiling. "I must look like a total idiot...grinning at him over a few clever words. Ugh, I am horrible at this!" Trying to keep her thoughts from turning into words proved to be a bit harder than it first seemed to be. His words flowed of the tongue in a elegant manner befitting of someone of his clear stature. Elina then began to think of the clear implausibility of all this. She was only a blacksmiths daughter, not anyone to give a damn about. Anyone who dressed in fancy clothes and knew enough about this city would know not to get involved with a foreigner.

When his counter offer came, Elina was curious. Once again the idea he was much more important than he had originally let on was becoming a much more viable assumption. Any other day Elina would take this offer in a second, but she was hungry, hungry enough that it made her question going around the town with a pretty boy. However it was a hard question to answer. She came up with a solution.

"How about this, Mr. Important." She said in a hushed tone, leaning closer to him. Softly she placed her finger on his chest and gently tried to push him back into his seat. When she spoke again her voice was still hushed but enough that he could still hear the woman. "I'm going to ask you three questions, you have to get them right and I will go anyplace with you for the rest of the night." Her voice held some captivated charm inside, inviting him the opportunity to indulge his wits with her own. "If you fail to answer them, or decide not to...I will just have to find someone else to hold my attention for the evening." When Elina finally spoke to ask the questions her voice held a definitive sound. "Question one. I, am obviously not from Ravok, I believe we established that. So the question is, were do I hail from?" She waited for his answer the, right or wrong, nodded. "Question two my lovely man. I am clearly not a poet or writer as you clearly seem to be," Her finger pointed to his case, "So my question is, what is my trade?"

Waiting for his answer Elina tried to figure out what the third question would be. Should it be another one similar to the past two, or a twist in the hopes it may throw him off. After his answer came, Elina knew what to ask. Leaning forward, finally unconcerned with the possibility of falling into the lake, she whispered in his ear. "What, exactly, is under these clothes?"

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

Could it be that he was actually growing impressed by this foreign girl, rather than just entertained?

"How about this, Mr. Important." She then said, and Luc knew that the deed was long done. He was not just bemused by this woman's surprising wit, clarity of mind, and charming appeal... he was captivated with every word that she offered him. A wolfish smile illuminating his features, the lawyer allowed himself to be eased back into this seat, his hand reaching up and placing itself softly on the woman's, that was currently pointing at his chest. Against her own hard, hammer-adjusted grip, his fingers were soft and delicate, the only visible sign of prolonged exertion being the callouses set into his index and middle digit. His grasp was gentle, smooth, teasing, egging her on and making his own body tingle with excitement. In his mind, the wheels were racing and dark, demon desires started to flare up within him, overpowering his senses and filling him with a singular thirst for the hunt. He didn't just want to be with this girl... he wanted to devour her.

As for her challenge... Luc relished the opportunity to exercise his intelligence in a situation that allowed for immediate reward. She's asking me for an analysis, when that's all I've been doing since I first laid eyes on her. This should be a walk in the park. Well, perhaps; while Luc was always quick to leap to assumptions, he would be the first to admit that this assumptions were not always correct. I've been punched in the face more than once for assuming that all men with shaved heads lack housing in the city. His grin keen and wide across his face, the man eased his head back and took a few moments to peruse her form for clues as to where she might hail from. She's definitely no Benshira or Myrian, so I doubt she's traveled that far to reach Ravok. That hair isn't red enough to be Inartan, those eyes aren't vivid enough to be Vanthan. And she isn't Svefra... she actually smells alright. Possibly Drykas, but those legs aren't brawny enough to handle a horses' gallop. And I don't see any tattoos on her. She's too pale to come from anyplace much warmer than Ravok, which means that she isn't hailing from Cyphrus. It has to be Syliras... she doesn't appear to be suffering from the thinness one usually sees in long journeys. As for the actual city - well, Sunberth is off the list. No Sunberthian in their right mind would venture to Ravok, where their precious freedom would be hampered by the Stryfe. I doubt she's a Nykan, they love their city too much to leave. It has to be...

"You've come from Syliras, haven't you?" He asked, smiling quietly at her. "The Fortress City of Peace, eh? I imagine it proved too sheltered a life for you. Me, I couldn't stand it, all that talk of knights and peace and shyke. Too boring." Plus, I doubt that the knights would be too supportive of my kind of fun. Her second question made him purse his lips and frown. "So my question is, what is my trade?" She said, prompting his eyes to once more intently scan her face, hands, and body to search for clues. After only a few moments of silence, he gave a satisfied breath and waved the query away. "You have to be a smith. Those callouses on your hands could only have come from either swinging a hammer or a weapon, and something about you makes me doubt that you've ever fought a battle in your life. It's in your eyes, I think. They're too bright and curious about the world. I've seen men and women in the Stryfe, that have been in active combat... they don't have that look about them. Also, and I must confess this to be a weakness of mine," he admit, offering her a shrug, "I had you pegged as a blacksmith from the first. I don't like getting proven wrong." So far, two questions had been wrapped up, and Luc was fairly confident that he was excelling at this game. This woman was interesting, but he didn't think her secrets were too difficult to wrap his mind around.

But she certainly kept him on his toes, he couldn't help but think as the words grazed his ear, "What, exactly, is under these clothes?" Instinctively he let out a groan at the warmth of her presence and the brush of hot breath against the side of his face, his mind forgetting the otherwise painful withdrawal process that he was going through. Right now, all he could focus upon was the woman in front of him, the dark sky above him, and the even darker waters below. He didn't care for the gossip the ravasolaman might spread if he recognized the young Nitrozian partying around with a blacksmith in his vessel - far worse rumors, most of them true, had already been circulated throughout Ravok. Taking a deep breath, the lawyer reached out and placed a firm hand on the girl's back, keeping her pressed close to him as he stared into her eyes. Why is she here? He asked himself, wondering what exactly made this woman tick. Why is she throwing herself so playfully into my arms? The answer made itself apparent to him as he considered what would have made this young blacksmith travel all the way from Syliras to Ravok, and why she was even now considering taking a trip to the Plaza of Dark Delights: danger. Poor woman, she's been stuck up inside of a big petching castle all her life without any adventure to her name. Everything has been decided for her, I imagine... probably by whomever initiated her into her trade. Ravok called to her like a beacon, a city where she'd have to fend for herself and make something in this big, mysterious world. How could she resist?

Feeling that he had some leverage against her, Luc now set about exploiting this vital piece of insight. Breathing through his nostrils, the lawyer transfixed his eyes upon hers, and reached deep inside himself for his hidden Djed. At first it was slowing in coming, rising up quietly like the tide, lapping against the sides of his chest. Taking a hold of that electric energy and embracing it, Luc fueled it into his voice as he began to speak softly to the girl. Every word was slow, deliberate, and soft as a kiss upon the night's breeze... every word was laced with the magic of Hypnotism, meant to lull her into a hazy stupor. "Everything is under those clothes," he answered, smiling up at her like an animal seizing upon its vulnerable mate. "Everything... life, energy, action, excitement, curiosity, the vibrant soul, the powerful spirit. Underneath these clothes, there's a woman that will stop at nothing to see more of the world. Walls will crack in front of her. The ground will shake at her every step. And men will tremble at the sight of her beauty. But, most importantly, underneath these clothes is a warm, wet woman that's eager to see what wonders I can show her." Softening the intensity of his magic, Luc smiled at her and brushed a hand against her shoulder. "So? You're satisfied with my answers?"

[Elina Fenicha]

Coming off so strong Elina should have expected this man to respond in the way he did, touching her and placing his hands on her was for foreign to the smith. Yes there were others back home but this, this felt so different. All the other boys had been just that, boys. Him, he was a man. Elina didn't even know his name and vise versa. As strange as his touch was, it was also refreshing. Unlike the assortment of friends she had back home who all had rough, strong hands like her own. This mans was gentle and welcoming. Another smile found its way onto Elinas lips when she thought about this.

What an adventure this city was truly turning out to be. It was clear to the woman the boatman was watching the two but she didnt care. What's the worse he would say, her and some man were kissing on a boat. Not exactly something one didn't see countless times a day in this city. As for what he might say about Mr.Important, or whoever he really was, Elina couldn't know. What would it matter what others thought of her anyhow, she wasn't a citizen. People already didn't like her for just simply being alive.

After her first question Elina noticed the man quickly get to work, looking her over as he went along. When he gave his answer, it was correct. "Correct". Elina said as she slowly nodded to him. Quickly brushing off the second question with another correct answer Elina couldn't help but be impressed. Once again she simply nodded and said, "Correct." This boat ride was turning into everything she hoped for and more. Ravok truly was a magnificent city and Elina was enjoying every moment of it.

When the man began answering the third and final question Elina felt a strange force take over her. Instinctively she placed her two hands on the mans shoulder and rested her head on them. Simply listening to his voice. Everything he said filled her mind with wondrous thoughts ranging from all manner of emotions. Lust filling most. After he finished Elina had to take a few moments before realizing it was her turn to speak once more. "Am I satisfied? Certainly." Her head still rested on his shoulder. "You have full right to take me anyplace you want for the rest of the night. Show me the secrets of this wonderful city, I may even follow you home afterwards."

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

"Correct."

"Correct."

"You have full right to take me anyplace you want for the rest of the night. Show me the secrets of this wonderful city, I may even follow you home afterwards."

With just those simple words, the woman sealed her fate for the night. An intense and maddening light flickered into life in Luc's eyes, as he eased his mind back and considered the possibilities for what he could do with this girl. Rising alongside that was a keen sense of pleasure, stemming from the fact that he had managed to so thoroughly impress her with just a single conversation. I can do anything I want with her and she'll walk straight into it, convinced that it'll all be fun and well because I asked that it be so. I could stroll right into the Slave Markets and sell her off to the first buyer I see, and she'd be helpless to resist. But before he could do anything else with this girl, he had to go and get this withdrawal problem sorted out. It was already threatening to overtake what little happiness he was currently feeling. And before that... "Hey!" He called out to the ravasolaman, burying one hand into the woman's hair. "Take us straight to the Docks, please. And make it fast... this trip has already taken forever." The boatman complied with a simple nod, and redirected their course towards a darker part of Ravok than the woman first intended.

When they finally hit upon the Docks, Luc was quick to take his new escort into the Nitrozian Plaza. He figured that he'd ease her into a deliriously happy, pleasureful state before he tried to make his move towards his drug den. Letting her walk arm-in-arm beside him, constantly murmuring niceties to her as they did, he first ventured into the Silver Sliver tavern and coaxed a fair meal out of old Jeb the bartender. The tavern, usually busy at this hour of the night, was thankfully less packed than what Luc was anticipating, allowing the two of them to enjoy a conversation at normal volume. And while the food was only good if you had never tasted more expensive fare, the lawyer kept applying Hypnotism to the poor woman and tried to convince her that she was having the time of her life. "Mhm," he would say, his voice once more achieving that rhythmic quality, his eyes focused on hers under the pretense of a romantic gaze. "This is good, right? So very, very good." He only used his magic when he felt that the woman was under threat of being bored by his presence, careful not to overwhelm her with it lest she believe that something was amiss... if he could avoid getting overwhelmed himself by the magic, that would also be desirable. A light touch is key, he figured. When the two did talk, he tried to steer the conversation onto less significant topics. He spoke of the city and its history and its makeup, of its politics and markets and recent news. Nothing about who he was or what he did.

After their dinner at the Silver Sliver, Luc took them out into the Plaza to explore, to see the sights of the city. He walked with a casual arrogance to his step, pointing out buildings to the smith and commenting upon them as if he owned the business. He tried to make it appear as if their venture into the Dark Delight was more a product of change than design, an absentminded stroll across the bridge leading them into Ravok's darkest corner. It was obvious from the first that the atmosphere in this section of the city had changed significantly; the streets were given fresh life and were once more pulsating with energy, but the looks that the pair got were always hooded with sinister intent. In the Nitrozian Plaza, there had been merchants and couples and artisans spread out along the street. Here, there were slavers, whores, perfumed thieves and worse that stalked past the duo. Undeterred by this change, Luc took the woman tightly by the hand and looked over to her, smiling broadly. "I know this great place at the other end of the Plaza, should be great fun. Keep close, alright?" Hoping this charm would prove disarming towards any doubts the woman might be having, he led her deeper into the Dark Delight, leading them away from - for her sake - any ruffians that might try to get in their way. Usually a Ravokian citizen could feel at ease in the Plaza, but with the recent troubles with the lake that threatened to create food shortages in the city... anything could happen.

It only took a few chimes to reach his drug den, an unassuming three-story building on the outskirts of the Dark Delight. The structure was made of mostly wood and reinforced by stone, and didn't look more or less sinister than any other home in this part of town - save for the lack of windows. The door was locked from within as they approached, but Luc only had to lean in, knock twice, and say, "It's me", for it to open up. Inside, the woman was greeted with what looked to be a home, only if the furniture was scattered nonsensically and no one bothered to clean up after themselves. The walls were grimy and stank of pipeweed, similar to the kind that Luc had been earlier smoking. The various couches spread out through the rooms seated all types of individuals, but they all invariably had their sleeves rolled up and a distant expression glazed onto their face. The air was dingy in here and the atmosphere was smoky, but it wasn't intolerable to linger inside the den. Keeping his grip tight on the smith's hand, Luc led her through the building and up a flight of stairs before arriving at a quiet room on the second level, with no prior occupants inside. The only furnishings in the room were a strangely-pristine couch, padded with soft pillows and covered in velvet blankets, and a small table set in front of it. In the corner, a bundle of discarded drapes languished. "Have a seat," the lawyer gestured, smiling. "This'll only take a moment." Then, with only a quick nod to her, he disappeared, heading deeper into the building for some unknown purpose.

He returned just a chime later, with what looked to be a small wooden box in his hands. Stepping inside the room and shutting the door behind him, Luc sat down on the couch and set the box onto the table. "I know what you're thinking," he began, his voice resonating in the otherwise empty room. His fingers fled upwards towards his surcoat, slowly unbuttoning it down the middle. "You wanted to see the secrets of this wonderful city, and here we are, in this dingy shyke-hole with strange men and women crowding around us. What are we doing here, you're wondering. Well, let me tell you about Ravok." Eschewing his black coat and letting it pile onto the ground, Luc began to roll up the sleeves of his white tunic until his arms were bared. "Ravok is a pretty facade with an ugly truth at its core. It's a city where you can find almost anything inside its borders, and almost anything can find you in turn. There's beautiful scenery and fabulously dressed people in the streets, but they're not the ones that make this city turn. It's the people in this building that make Ravok Ravok." Glancing over at the woman, he reached deep into himself and pulled out the last of his straining Djed. It was hard work, at this point, to maintain the magic, but the thrill that he experienced when using it was too addictive for him to quit. "This isn't a place meant for peaceful little girls," he said, voice dripping with suggestion. "You have to be willing to embrace some pretty nasty shyke. You asked for secrets, and I'm giving you them."