Sharn. The City of Towers. On this night in particular, The Tain Gala took place. Adventurers in favor with Lady Celyria ir’Tain were few and far inbetween. But they would be allowed through the gates. Greeted by the lady herself as the guests would disembark from Skycoaches, they would enter the Gala. A party that would define the social hierarchy at every instance. But one individual in particular would be under the list as an “unique” guest. Someone who had made contact with the Lady herself. Black waves atop his head, the man would leave the Skycoach. A simple black suit adorning his figure, the greeter would leave her position to give the man a curt bow.
“My oh my, here I thought you wouldn’t show.....” A woman not human in appearance would bow her head slightly. Raising it to reveal a pristine complexion.
“Lady ir’Tain...or rather. Celyria. I would never turn down your beck and call.” Holding her hand as he spoke, his lips would press lightly against her causing the hue in her cheeks to shift.
“Then I expect you not to leave after you had your fill as you did before.”
“Perhaps. Or maybe you’re just dying to remember the feeling of satisfaction...” The words escaping from his lips would slip past the tips of her ears, which duplicated the shade of red on her face. Her smile would be hidden by her free hand as to not let other arriving guests see her fancy.
Whether she took his words as truth or not, he walked past her and entered the tower. One of the highest towers in Sharn. The place where only the most rich and powerful families were accepted. Of course, there were those Lady ir’Tain would show her favor to, but it wouldn’t be very couth for the masses to know what she had done. The matriarch taking the company of an unknown man in her bed could never be known. And it would stay as such, he had secured her silence. But he wasn’t here for pleasantries, food, drink, or women. No. There was always a bigger picture, a bigger target.
The ir’Tains were the most powerful and richest family in Sharn. And within their own family, there were always those who delved in less than savory deals. Deals that held significance with the lower tiers of Sharn. But at the end of the day, it was business over pleasure. While his pleasure would be satisfied in helping the less fortunate, business came before anything else. Walking amongst the multitude of luxurious existences, he would make his way toward the bar. A warforged would approach, but without hesitating he would give his order.
“Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel...” Though the words would reach the warforged, his customer would raise an eyebrow before sighing.
Waiting for the drink, his eyes would lock with another woman. Adorned with jewelry from head to toe. An existence that cost more than several buildings in the floating city itself. While drowning in gems worth more than his life, she would meet the translucent blue hues encompassing his eyes. Cyra ir’Tain. The eldest daughter of Celyria ir’Tain was no one to scoff at. She was much more ambitious than her mother and had all the time she didn’t have.
“Quite the interesting drink, what might it be called...?” Her eyes continued to trace his as she moved to his side.
“The drink is a personal creation of mine, but I haven’t gotten around to patenting a name for it.” Answering her question, he would take the drink set in front of him. Though lacking the peel he requested, he would raise the glass in front of her. “How about a toast then?”
“Oh.....? And what might it be for?” Raising a glass filled with a clear concoction of her own, she would nonetheless comply while posing her question.
“For the exciting evening to come, of course.” An answer given would be followed by the light ringing of glass.
“And who might I be making this toast with?” Leaning closer to him, he would follow with a smile.
