тħe мeeтıиg øf тħe тħяee, νeıłeđ вч αитıqυıтч тeα.

Nameless Assailant:  

Antiquity Tea: A cafe opened only within the past couple of years and yet had grown to become one of a few prosperous businesses in such a short time, rumors circulate of some outside influence and yet none have been validated even with persistent questioning of the owners. The cafe itself gains its name from its styling. Extravagant pointed arches obviously influenced by the gothic styling of the city itself line it's exterior whilst it's namesake comes from the fine furniture which has been used to decorate the interior. From masonry to carpentry, what could be classed as works of fine art are used as nothing more then what they were initially intended providing a place to meet and dine not only for the elite and wealthy, but also the common man whom could easily afford the prices of the lesser items which were for sale.

The first pawn had been moved, but what would be the response?

Obsidian hues remained cast upon the Ivory tower has he had come to call it, the manor where the new mayoress of Tia had taken residence after seizing the moment and the city away from it's people. The results of such a bloody battle will still prominent among the city streets, Tia already being home to the living dead as they wandered the streets perhaps finding kinship with the sleeping dead whom littered the streets displaying for all to see their premature extinguished lives given for a cause that was now all but lost. What little moonlight escaping the overcast skies striking the building, outlining it's frame whilst the windows providing little lit keyholes into the would of the powerful. But what of the common man whom was still in mourning at the passing of kinship fighting a cause for the good of the people? Would they accept the new ruler despite the bodies of the fallen which had littered the streets? It was arrogant of her to think that taking control of a city would be so easy. Whilst the people still bitter of how the power which they fought for was wrestled away from their grasp, the mumbling of those that passed him on the street whilst entranced in conversation with the other would suggest otherwise.

αωαıтıиg мч łαđч

Beloved Marishka: Thunder rolled in the distance as Xyllan walked down the scorched path. It had felt like days sense he had tasted the cool life giving gift of water, and longer still since that last meal. Lighting flashed and he could make the faint outline of what appeared to be a castle, beautiful but foreboding. Briefly wondered were he was, or for that matter who he was, that old Mystic he had seen only told him the road and his name nothing more. Making way, finally reaching the castles gates and collapsed as exhaustion claimed his body. The Golden Geisha, as she was known stepped through the Keep doors and gazed at the form leaning on the gates. The Mistress would be arriving soon. Feeling her presence coming closer. And here was fresh blood for her Queen. Smiling softly walking towards the gate and opened the side he was not leaning on.

Beloved Marishka's garb was simple, her Lady wanted nothing in her way when she gazed on those beautiful to her sight or in the way when she fed. Strapless and wrapped almost like a second skin of golden silk around her breasts and the expanse between ribs and hips was bare where an ankle length spans of silk wrapped loosely around her then fell in panels no wider then 3 or 4 inches each. So each step, movement, bend showed flesh clear up to hips. It also showed there was nothing beneath the alluring panels. Kneeling down, touching the man's shoulders and whispered to his mind and ears. "Sir... are you all right?" If he bothered to look up, her eyes were the color of moon spun emeralds, seeming to shine even when the moon snuck behind the clouds. And her lips were plump as if hard kissed recently, though there was a permanence to their ripeness that may lead him to believe they were luscious all the time.

Xyllan did not look up his mind was being consumed by the thirst he had been feeling build in the last few weeks. Rising to his feet slowly staggering with the effort "I ...am..." his eyes were filled with hunger and hate.