Adventures at the "Pig 'n Whistle"

My boots roamed the streets in a steady pace. With my trade goods safely stocked in the bank, I had one night to spend ere I could sell my wares the next day on the market. My boots halted in front of the "Pig 'n Whistle". A stench of beer and smoke rose from its door. A faint light revealed there were still people there. A yearning for beer overtook me and lead me inside.

I leaned my back against the right wall and took in the scenery for the briefest of moments. Investing more time would have been a waste. The sleazy bar was living up to its name.
The scraping of a hundred dirt soiled boots, from guests too lazy or too drunk to properly lift their feet, had carved out a path in the wooden floor. The boots had done their work, dropping as much filth from the streets as they scraped off the surface, taking all remnants of spilt beer, food and spit with them. This path was clean compared to the rest of the establishment and lead straight towards the main attraction: a counter doing a poor job at concealing the waitresses, their clothing lacking all subtlety in displaying their main assets for this job. I wondered if the counter was that low intentionally, so the waitresses would be forced to lean deeper to slide the drinks to their customers.
The air was filled with smoke and the stench of beer. There was a elevated floor.. accumulating the smoke and granting an almost natural air of privacy to whomever wanted to negotiate more shady dealings.
It wouldn't surprise anyone but a fool if you could find weapons and women, equally loose here. The almost mournful shades of the rackety furniture danced in the flickering flames of candles, resting on the poorly maintained chandeliers.
Indeed, not a moment more was needed to analyse this place. I felt right at home.

I pushed myself off from the wall with a heel and strode towards the counter. My hand rested between a small coin purse and a short knife, ready to grab either in need. I had enough coin for a few drinks, but nothing too fancy. Company would have to come free tonight. I leaned against the counter and ordered a mead. A pretty little thing stopped by my side and finished her glass of wine. She turned and smiled, the gaze in her eyes revealing this wasn't her first glass. As she seemed to enjoy staring, I let my eyes feast while her generosity lasted. Despite the dim lit room, her skin looked somewhat pale, contrasting her dark hair and deep brown eyes. I deemed her younger than myself but clearly she was full grown and mature. Every curve and shape emphasised her womanhood. Her clothing was fair, for a the kind of women you'd expect to find in this sleazy joint. The trousers and vest were unfitting for a lady of the streets.
The air about her nonchalant pose made clear she had experienced the delights of the flesh before and didn't fear to lure men with the promise of more. No ring tainted her hands and her waiting smile revealed she was measuring me up as well... Only the prominent belt holding blades and a handgun withheld me from reaching out to her straight away. A quick calculation in my mind revealed she might offer cheaper lodging than the inn. I weighed my chances. I moved in.

A mead and a wine later we talked about our work. I forgot about her work before she finished her sentence explaining it. I wished I could recall what work she did... but instead I confessed to myself I couldn't care less. The distance between us had shrunk with every sip from our drinks. Though mingled with the stench of the establishment, her scent reached my nostrils and aroused my mind. She had sprayed herself with some form of perfume earlier on the day, but much of its odour was failing as the scent of her body gained in strength from sitting too long in this warm establishment and drinking wine. It was exhilarating. Perhaps it had been too long since I've been in the city. Her willing ear to listen and eager tongue to talk cleared my doubts.

I've been gentle so far... Time to show a rougher side to make her wild with desire and let me take her home. I changed the subject to knives. She showed me hers. I admired them with trained expression of awe, something I found useful in my trade to mislead fools. The smile in her eyes showed it worked, but a voice started to nag in the back of my head. This lass wasn't as inexperienced as I deemed her.
Not withstanding the time had come to show my mettle. With a grin I pulled out the handles of my knives. But something had changed... One of my knives was proudly blinking in the candle light. The other was not... The blade couldn't be seen. It caught her eye and I felt my move fall apart like a failed soufflé. My tongue spoke faster than my mind could work.
"Ever since I killed that mage, his blood rendered the blade invisible. Tricky to sharpen it but real handy in combat."
She laughed but seemed to accept the explanation and turned to her wine for another sip. I gratefully took the moment to check the scabbard of the knife only to find the blade had broken off and was still stuck. A list of curses to the blacksmith having repaired the knife the last time formed in my mind as I tucked away the empty handle before she'd notice the lie. If she hadn't noticed.

Nevertheless the effort struck home. She offered to leave and again a voice nagged in the back of my head. This lass had more confidence in the situation than I was used to. Perhaps it was a trick. My senses tried to work through the haze of alcohol and the lure of the moment but failed to detect any danger. I conceded to come along and soon we found ourselves breathing better air. She led me to a barn, deserted, remote... offering a perfect spot for the both of us together. Helping her up in an elevated storage of hay, she leaned in against me and we kissed.

I gave in to the moment and undid her clothing rather brutally, paying care to be gentle with my lips rather than my hands. She grabbed my wrists and tried to correct my work, gasping for air as the rush of the moment blinded her equally. Our wills struggled against each other, one undoing the other's work. Eventually we landed in the hay, half undressed, half dressed with a reluctant acceptance that the uncomfortable position would be the best our battling minds could accomplish. There are poets writing endless books of the magical nights when two souls share such an intimate moment. I doubt this is what they had in mind.
After a crude struggle with clothes and limbs we both ended on our backs in the hay, gasping for air with a shared lack of satisfaction. A soft groan from her and playful bite in my arm hinted she had known worse. I wish I could have shared that sentiment as well.

Without another word, we succumbed to sleep. I was grateful to see her gone by the morning. The cheap night left me enough coin for a good breakfast. I agreed that, perhaps, she wasn't that bad of a deal after all.

Lured by the promise of what little beer my coins could afford, I found myself walking to that bar once more. My reflection in a puddle tipped me on favorable odds for finding company. The laughter and loud voices emerging from the bar's door held the promise of a good time. Despite the cracked windows, gloomy lanternlight and the stench of the street, the bar managed to provide a welcoming sight. I thought to myself, if ever I were to define magic, I would certainly declare the ensnaring seduction of this establishment as one.

Ignoring one of the guard's sniffing, or whatever it is these cursed humans do, I submerged myself in the bar's fussy air. The bar quickly unveiled its lie, and I felt the pang of betrayal, like one who pursued a false promise for too long. The loud voices were little more than a washed up Paladin recounting heroic deeds he probably never did. He was joined by a Mage who behaved important, about both his business and his talents.
I can not say I know much of mages, but at least this is how the saying goes: "Public display of magic is either illegal or it is of little importance". Judging by the mage's non sensical babbling, it was probably the latter. I wished the magical attraction to this place were either forbidden or irrelavant, but I recalled no law that would abolish my inability to resist this gloomy place.

The mage and the paladin made a fitting couple in their competition for attention, trying to defeat each other with tales. Soon they were recounting feats so great that it were a miracle there were Horde or Scourge left.

I searched solace at the bar, trying to score a beer. The bartender wasn't the usual, too scarcely dressed woman. His clumsy hands poured me a beer with more foam than beer. The only comfort it offered was the halving of its price after a few barked insults at the tender. The room whispered disappointment everywhere I looked. Barring an overly drunk and very confused night elf, there wasn't a curve to admire. After a sigh I finished my foamy beer and burped out the excess of air. The spell of this place that I enjoyed so much proved fickle.

"So long.." I thought as I walked outside. The guard sniffed me again. Perhaps he was trying to communicate like dogs do? It seemed they lost more than their looks with this curse.
We began to talk about the disappointing company and beer when a breeze of air passed me, holding the scent of a woman's perfume. Her elegant form disappeared in the mist of the bar, her long ears betraying her kind. With the proper bartender behind the counter, the bar regained its promise of a better night. Such was the spell of a good bartender.

I weighed my purse. It would suffice. Ignoring the now drunk Paladin and Mage I crossed the distance to the bar. As predicted, she lured many of the regulars, and more enjoyable women to look at. Feasting on my share of luck, I veiled my view with a mug of mead, but when I lowered the tankard, the room had changed. It looked brighter, calm and centered around her... Her being the most gracious figure ever to have set foot in this sleazy bar. Was it my mind, or was she using some sort of magic? The rest of the room seemed to zoom out to the background. If such change in the room were accomplished by magic, it would have been illegal, but no law prohibited a woman to captivate her surroundings by the enchantment of her grace. It took me some time to notice the Gnomette by her side.

But I wasn't the only one caught by her spell. Another man approached, with unsure steps. I eyed him with a frown. If ever I had the ability to manipulate a man from a distance, I wished such power would be loyal to me now and send the man away. I had no such power...

The man made a ridiculous scene. Apparently he had insulted her earlier that day.. and now wished to apologize for it. The man didn't content with expressing an appology however. It became obvious, all too clearly, he desired her to think well of him... perhaps for future advances. She cleverly turned his behavior into a "debt": he owed her a favour in return. Invisible though they were, I could see the strings of a pupetteer grip the man. Trapped between his honor and his intentions towards the lady, he tried to talk his way out of it... in vain. She clevery spun his every word against him into a web from which he couldn't escape. In a display of her power, she managed to get him to his knees to beg for an accepted appology. If such public display of her magic were illegal, she should have been arrested. But there was no law that would protect such a fool from a clever and charming woman.

After dismissing him, like tossing away a dirty cloth, she invited the Gnomette upstairs for a more quiet place. Her annoyance was as visible as it was unspoken. I emptied my tankard and sighed. Some other day perhaps. An annoyed woman would be hard to approach.

I would not approach another woman that night, having no room left in my head for another enchantment. I tipped the waitress and moved out, when I noticed a man staring silently across the room. As I passed him I whispered,
"If you're looking for the prettiest one, she's upstairs" and gave him a nod. He smirked and nodded.

I would know the impossible situation he'd be facing if he decided to follow that suggestion. I left the bar before I could find out his next move, but the mere thought of him ending up like the other fool amused me all the way back to the inn. Either my imagination or my nonexistent talent of clairvoyance showed me images of the woman with an army of puppets around her. It made me laugh even as I ducked under my covers. Perhaps some magic in public wasn't too bad after all.

Ooooh this is much different then JP, I loved it! Not a char I know I think tho, who be this!?

It's my not so secret alt...
I didn't mention his name intentionally. I don't mind people discovering he's my alt, but I noticed on my other chars that being "known as JP's alt" lowers some barriers. It's a natural occurrence I suppose, but for this character I prefer keeping that barrier and RP challenge of him being unknown OOCly.

I know who it is! /glee