Ash'eny, always observant as he was (you didn't grow up a thief and not learn to watch your back, your front, your sides, and your allies, especially those you called brothers), noticed Markus seemed hesitant or reluctant. A wrinkle on the forehead or a sigh oddly placed, it told Ash'eny that Markus was uncomfortable with something, he wasn't sure what, but he definitely was, even though he tried to hide it. Ash'eny hadn't a clue what it was, but he assumed it was this place. Markus was young, probably still pure, and if the Knights demanded celibacy then Ash'eny would guess that Markus never even considered coming to a place like this, or drink, or speak to women. Ash'eny was very different it seemed. "Does something bother you? Would you be more comfortable somewhere else? I don't mind, I did not come here with the intent of making you hate me." That wasn't entirely true. Ash'eny wanted to see an aspiring Knight hate himself because of what he did, and if that required Ash'eny also be hated, so be it. It wouldn't be the first, nor the last. "To a brighter future, may it be bright indeed." Ash'eny was surprised to see Markus drink the wine so heavily. That was something you saw in a tavern rather than an almost high classed place like this. He grinned, followed suit and took a deep drinking of his wine. And strong it was. Ash'eny was told once that it was in the best interest of everyone that worked here that the wine be strong. A well intoxicated man was one more inclined to tip, a strong drink was expensive, but typically worth it. Ash'eny chuckled lightly at Markus's questions on wine. Ash'eny was not nearly an expert, but he certainly learned a good deal on his last visit. "I believe you sip on it, rather than drink it like a beer. The taste is strong and the drink itself more so. Doesn't feel quite as manly though, does it?" Ash'eny picked up the bottle, he had a feeling Markus was being turned off by the Golden Dragon, and he was diligent in trying to keep on the Squire's good side so he could throttle him, change him, perhaps mold him to his will. Ash'eny stood up, bottle still in hand, and polished off what was left in his glass. "Here..." A woman approached Ash'eny, obviously picking up on Ash'eny about to declare the duo of Rogue and Squire to depart. She wrapped her hands behind Ash'eny's neck and brought her lips up to his ear, whispering something, probably fairly promiscuous (her clothing, what little there was, only fit the part perfectly). Ash'eny chuckled as a blush infected his lips, but he had company, a guest, he had much to do. "Maybe, maybe another time missus. I've a friend to watch over for a while." Reluctant as she was, she let go. The Harlot drug her finger down Ash'eny's cheek, to his neck, and turned to walk away. Ash'eny sighed. "Would the Stallion be more comforting? I'm afraid I might be tempted by staying here much longer." Ash'eny, personally, couldn't care less if he was 'tempted' or not. He was interested in Markus at the moment though. Ash'eny awaited for Markus's response, and allowed Markus to lead the way if he agreed to leave. Ash'eny, regardless, was still holding onto the wine. It might not have settled well with the squire, but the rogue certainly enjoyed it. |