@mischievcsundead
Santino tried not to look too visibly exasperated as Jan went on his third spirited rant about the illegitimacy of the current royal house of Britain. He watched his companion try to distract him from his little pet issue with soft touches and sweet words. She was a tender thing, Jan’s lover, never quite able to raise her voice. But with him she didn’t need to. Santino patted the Englishman’s shoulder as he drifted from his topic and towards Laura.
“See you later, Jankin.” He teased and turned away. The bar was rather well filled tonight, a small cellar tavern called Nosferatus Keller. Munich had little to offer for Santino himself; it was just a pit stop on his way to Trier. But he liked to chance it, even now. He knew a few of the people that had made a home of the Alps and they liked to come down from their abodes and lofty castles to mingle with mortals every now and again.
Santino stepped aside to let a couple of mortals enter the bar, both decked out in crucifixes, one might note, and noticed a most unfamiliar face. Most vampires here were of the old stock, those precious few who had survived the recent disasters. Especially here, were some blood drinkers still kept the faith, young ones seldom found a place to settle. Even Chiemgau itself was in the iron clutches of an old clan, tracing their history back to the early 1000s.
“Traveling alone?” The old vampire greeted the woman, a pleasant tone in his voice that was very clearly inviting her to make some space for herself on the benches.
