19th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
I have emerged from hiding! There are very few things which interest me enough to distract me from my studies, (both artistic and carnal,) but the celebration of the Spring Equinox would count among a very limited top few. Indeed, this years celebration has been in planning for years. Not the event mind you, but my designs on the hosts daughter, Livinia Vanderboren. A creature so graceful and feminine that eunuchs are said to have made immediate recoveries upon the very sight of her.
Livinia has been known to me in all ways but the carnal for some time now as our parents are quite close. She is one of a small handful of women that would meet Family approval for betrothal and I do believe this thought has crossed the minds of both our parents at one time or another. Indeed the possibility does not cause me great distress except for the prospect of being manacled to one woman, no matter how comely, for the rest of my life. Livinia, however, informed me tonight that she hasn't the slightest interest in bedding me, pre- or post-matrimonial. I was informed that though she was intrigued by tales of the strength of my ardor, she was also unimpressed with my ability to focus on my prey once my ardor had subsided.
Before I could admonish the dear child for listening to the idle gossip of her peers, her brother Vanth appeared, ruining not only the moment, but the evening as well. Vanth is cut from the same aristocratic cloth as many of my Family and it is precisely this cloth which I strive to avoid being tailored from. He is arrogant, greedy, and at times like this, churlish to the point of embarrassment. After loudly accusing me of violating his dear sister, he wildly struck out at me. Luckily I am quite gifted in certain techniques which easily allowed me to dodge his clumsy attack while at the same time, spinning quickly on my heels, give him the slightest push toward the fountain which Livinia and I were standing beside. Unfortunately, the resulting splash caught both Livinia and I fully, simply dowsing me but causing her gown to become quite transparent. I immediately, and reluctantly, offered her my soggy doublet to conceal herself and we retired to the manor to freshen ourselves.
She apologized profusely for the actions of her brother, but alas, the progress I felt I was making earlier was completely lost. After composing myself and making sure that she was otherwise alright, I returned to the celebration to pay my respects and offer apologies to her parents before returning to Lucille's. Upon leaving, I caught the stony gaze of Mother whom I had been successfully avoiding all evening. The look on her face was one of which I am quite familiar, but thankfully she was engaged in conversation and I was able to make my exit with no further complication.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Another Learning Curve
18th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
I have conferred with Midnight, (indeed, another of Lucille's lovelies,) about the intricacies of leading a dual life and she has been kind enough to grace me with a few pointers. I'm certain that the few golds I have graced her with had no small effect on her willingness. One lesson I have learned is the precaution of making stops along the way to a destination in order to throw any possible agents off my trail. Under Middie's advice I have been practicing what she terms a "tavern crawl" of sorts, moving from one pub to another, having a drink or two at each and changing in only the darkest or most crowded and boisterous areas. Indeed, crowds make excellent changing rooms for this purpose as one is more easily lost in the writhing mass of bodies. The things one can learn in life if one simply seeks out the correct tutors are simply amazing.
I have conferred with Midnight, (indeed, another of Lucille's lovelies,) about the intricacies of leading a dual life and she has been kind enough to grace me with a few pointers. I'm certain that the few golds I have graced her with had no small effect on her willingness. One lesson I have learned is the precaution of making stops along the way to a destination in order to throw any possible agents off my trail. Under Middie's advice I have been practicing what she terms a "tavern crawl" of sorts, moving from one pub to another, having a drink or two at each and changing in only the darkest or most crowded and boisterous areas. Indeed, crowds make excellent changing rooms for this purpose as one is more easily lost in the writhing mass of bodies. The things one can learn in life if one simply seeks out the correct tutors are simply amazing.
Comforts & Visions
17th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
It had come to my attention that Kira, another of Lucille's working girls, was upset that I was asked to paint the mural over the bar. Though I pose as the resident artist here, the title rightly belongs to her as she has lived here longer than I, and in fact, her work graces many of the walls here. I had not thought this would be a problem as she and I have spent an evening or four discussing the Great Masters. Indeed, we have quite different views regarding technique and we both have quite distinctive styles; hers strictly Renaissance. While I do study the period, as every novice artist should, I find myself "drawn," if you will, to a more modernistic approach which she sees as a trifling fad. However, I have comforted her in the fact that I shall turn down Lucille's offer. It is much too early in my career for a public debut of my young talent, tempted though I am. I am content, for now, to sell my small sketches to those few patrons who appreciate my particular style.
Earlier this evening I had the pleasure of watching the Masq'd Bard again. From what I have been able to glean from whisper and rumour here at the House, she has only recently taken up the performers mantle, but this seems incredible to me for her voice is most stirring. It is almost as if she can conjure with mere tone and inflection. Indeed, as she sang The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver I could see the scene so clear in my head it was as if had lived it myself. I became the poor boy of the song, suffering in my poverty and surviving simply on the love of my mother. As we all know, this is far from accurate, but still, there I was, watching as my mother wove for me with her song.
Let me tell you, I have tried more than a few strong opiates in my young life and none have ever caused me to lose sight of my own self in favor of pure fantasy. None have ever caused such vivid visions. Indeed, there is something about this mysterious femme-rouge that I cannot divine by myself. I did approach her after the performance to offer my most humble thanks and no few words of appreciation but this was met with a curt "Thank you, sir," followed by her immediate departure. Honestly, I do love a challenge, but this borders on the impossible. So much the better!
It had come to my attention that Kira, another of Lucille's working girls, was upset that I was asked to paint the mural over the bar. Though I pose as the resident artist here, the title rightly belongs to her as she has lived here longer than I, and in fact, her work graces many of the walls here. I had not thought this would be a problem as she and I have spent an evening or four discussing the Great Masters. Indeed, we have quite different views regarding technique and we both have quite distinctive styles; hers strictly Renaissance. While I do study the period, as every novice artist should, I find myself "drawn," if you will, to a more modernistic approach which she sees as a trifling fad. However, I have comforted her in the fact that I shall turn down Lucille's offer. It is much too early in my career for a public debut of my young talent, tempted though I am. I am content, for now, to sell my small sketches to those few patrons who appreciate my particular style.
Earlier this evening I had the pleasure of watching the Masq'd Bard again. From what I have been able to glean from whisper and rumour here at the House, she has only recently taken up the performers mantle, but this seems incredible to me for her voice is most stirring. It is almost as if she can conjure with mere tone and inflection. Indeed, as she sang The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver I could see the scene so clear in my head it was as if had lived it myself. I became the poor boy of the song, suffering in my poverty and surviving simply on the love of my mother. As we all know, this is far from accurate, but still, there I was, watching as my mother wove for me with her song.
Let me tell you, I have tried more than a few strong opiates in my young life and none have ever caused me to lose sight of my own self in favor of pure fantasy. None have ever caused such vivid visions. Indeed, there is something about this mysterious femme-rouge that I cannot divine by myself. I did approach her after the performance to offer my most humble thanks and no few words of appreciation but this was met with a curt "Thank you, sir," followed by her immediate departure. Honestly, I do love a challenge, but this borders on the impossible. So much the better!
I Am Spent
16th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
As I suspected, an early dinner was indeed called for as Mirri had hunger only for the physical. I have in fact made good on my promise to Mirri, manifold, and all is forgiven. This entry is also the last vestige of strength left to me. You may use your imaginations and draw your own conclusions.
As I suspected, an early dinner was indeed called for as Mirri had hunger only for the physical. I have in fact made good on my promise to Mirri, manifold, and all is forgiven. This entry is also the last vestige of strength left to me. You may use your imaginations and draw your own conclusions.
All Apologies
12th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
Please forgive the dreadful condition of these few pages. Honeymead is not quite compatible with ink and parchment. Nor was the mug quite compatible with my skull. Allow me to pass on a certain jewel of wisdom I have gleaned from the events of this afternoon: Whores have feelings too. It is within the realm of possibilities that in my quest for a more spectacular orgasm, I may have overlooked the needs of my partner; something I strive keenly never to do. I simply forgot that there are some people in this world, Mirri for example, for whom the pleasures of the flesh are even more important than they are for me. (A fact that I find quite difficult to believe, but a fact nonetheless.)
After tending to my bruised forehead, I sought out Mirri and tended to her bruised ego, promising her my complete and full attention on her next night off, including a fine meal at one of Dragon Rock's better brasseries. Not surprisingly, my offer was accepted, but she seemed somewhat uninterested in the meal. Ahh well, perhaps I shall have an early dinner in order to bolster my stamina that evening.
Please forgive the dreadful condition of these few pages. Honeymead is not quite compatible with ink and parchment. Nor was the mug quite compatible with my skull. Allow me to pass on a certain jewel of wisdom I have gleaned from the events of this afternoon: Whores have feelings too. It is within the realm of possibilities that in my quest for a more spectacular orgasm, I may have overlooked the needs of my partner; something I strive keenly never to do. I simply forgot that there are some people in this world, Mirri for example, for whom the pleasures of the flesh are even more important than they are for me. (A fact that I find quite difficult to believe, but a fact nonetheless.)
After tending to my bruised forehead, I sought out Mirri and tended to her bruised ego, promising her my complete and full attention on her next night off, including a fine meal at one of Dragon Rock's better brasseries. Not surprisingly, my offer was accepted, but she seemed somewhat uninterested in the meal. Ahh well, perhaps I shall have an early dinner in order to bolster my stamina that evening.
A Lesson Learned
12th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
I have spoken to Lucille about the aforementioned incident and have been reassured that my secrets are safe within this house. She wished me to name the culprit, but I would have none of that. Were I to begin pointing fingers there's no telling how many sharpened and painted talons would be pointed back in my direction and I am quite satisfied with Lucille's record of privacy. Indeed, it was one of the reasons I installed myself here in the first place.
Lucille has enquired if I would be interested in painting a mural above her main bar. I suspect this is an offering to assuage my nerves for my skill with a brush, serviceable though it may be, is still in its infancy. At this time I am much more comfortable with charcoal and quill, but I shall endeavor to rise to the occasion.
Speaking of which, I have kept Mirri waiting for me upon the bed and she is now giving me a petulant stare. She is a most athletic lover, but I find her to be even more intense when slightly irritated. I believe that one or two more sentences should be adequate time to bring her passions to the perfect level. I have heard that a watched cauldron never boils, but in the case of women, especially young women, I find this to be quite untrue. Even now I can see the impatience simmering in her eyes as she reaches for her mug of honeymead. I do believe she is ready for
I have spoken to Lucille about the aforementioned incident and have been reassured that my secrets are safe within this house. She wished me to name the culprit, but I would have none of that. Were I to begin pointing fingers there's no telling how many sharpened and painted talons would be pointed back in my direction and I am quite satisfied with Lucille's record of privacy. Indeed, it was one of the reasons I installed myself here in the first place.
Lucille has enquired if I would be interested in painting a mural above her main bar. I suspect this is an offering to assuage my nerves for my skill with a brush, serviceable though it may be, is still in its infancy. At this time I am much more comfortable with charcoal and quill, but I shall endeavor to rise to the occasion.
Speaking of which, I have kept Mirri waiting for me upon the bed and she is now giving me a petulant stare. She is a most athletic lover, but I find her to be even more intense when slightly irritated. I believe that one or two more sentences should be adequate time to bring her passions to the perfect level. I have heard that a watched cauldron never boils, but in the case of women, especially young women, I find this to be quite untrue. Even now I can see the impatience simmering in her eyes as she reaches for her mug of honeymead. I do believe she is ready for
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Knowledge Is Power
11th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
I have solved the problem of rendering live models. It is simply a matter of sketching or painting between amorous sessions. No small task as this takes immense self control, not just on my part, but also on the part of my enamorata du jour. I tried an experiment in which I attempted to "capture the moment during the moment," but neither result was quite up to my high standards. Of course, this will not preclude me from further experimentation. One only grows by practice!
A double-edged event occurred this ride as, from one of the girls, I learned the name of the Masq'd Bard: Violetta Lucette d'Arc. She has been here for almost two years, but strictly as a performer in the Bardic Arts. I have been warned that any attentions I may direct toward her will be rebuffed most firmly. Perhaps this is for the best, for if her face equals that of her figure, I may be rendered useless to the many damoiselles dependent upon my charms. I think perhaps that this may only turn to obsession in the future, for the mask and the warning have the makings of a challenge which I most assurredly cannot shirk from. And to add to my exquisite torture, the hue of skin I previously mentioned is definitely not make-up.
Ah. I did say double-edged, did I not? Indeed, as the above information was to be had so easily, albeit from a source whose job depends on being "had so easily," then whose ears might be learning of my secrets? This may pose a problem. I have only just sewn up the loose end of The Family and the right word to the wrong ear would simply halt my machinations much too early. It would be a slip of the tongue which I would find quite distasteful indeed.
I have solved the problem of rendering live models. It is simply a matter of sketching or painting between amorous sessions. No small task as this takes immense self control, not just on my part, but also on the part of my enamorata du jour. I tried an experiment in which I attempted to "capture the moment during the moment," but neither result was quite up to my high standards. Of course, this will not preclude me from further experimentation. One only grows by practice!
A double-edged event occurred this ride as, from one of the girls, I learned the name of the Masq'd Bard: Violetta Lucette d'Arc. She has been here for almost two years, but strictly as a performer in the Bardic Arts. I have been warned that any attentions I may direct toward her will be rebuffed most firmly. Perhaps this is for the best, for if her face equals that of her figure, I may be rendered useless to the many damoiselles dependent upon my charms. I think perhaps that this may only turn to obsession in the future, for the mask and the warning have the makings of a challenge which I most assurredly cannot shirk from. And to add to my exquisite torture, the hue of skin I previously mentioned is definitely not make-up.
Ah. I did say double-edged, did I not? Indeed, as the above information was to be had so easily, albeit from a source whose job depends on being "had so easily," then whose ears might be learning of my secrets? This may pose a problem. I have only just sewn up the loose end of The Family and the right word to the wrong ear would simply halt my machinations much too early. It would be a slip of the tongue which I would find quite distasteful indeed.
I Am Discovered!
1st Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
Less than two months and I have been discovered! I knew The Family employed only the best and the brightest operatives, but I was sure I had covered my tracks sufficiently to throw them off the trail. It seems I was spotted, pre-disguise, lounging on an upper balcony by one of Mother's Finest. We live and we learn, eh?
Soon after this, I was summoned to a meeting with Her Grace regarding matters which I would have been foolish to ignore. Business completed, the audience degenerated into a verbal melee concerning my current path. (More to the point, Her Grace threatened to unleash the Orcish Hordes of Cantor Loop if I refused to submit to her will.) Luckily, She bred me well (and a bit too close to her own image) and I was able to use her own twisted brand of logic to gain her half-hearted blessing in my endeavors. I convinced Her that it would be to the benefit of The Family were I to remain at large on Dragon Rock as an agent incognito, seeking out plots and devilments detrimental to our prosperity where they are likely to be hatched.
This is not exactly the flower I expected to bloom when I began planting the seeds of my own garden, but I must confess it allows me some further range in life. No longer must I worry about the interference of Mother's Finest and I am able to pursue my own path as I see fit. I shall take this as a victory and celebrate appropriately upon my return to Lucille's.
Less than two months and I have been discovered! I knew The Family employed only the best and the brightest operatives, but I was sure I had covered my tracks sufficiently to throw them off the trail. It seems I was spotted, pre-disguise, lounging on an upper balcony by one of Mother's Finest. We live and we learn, eh?
Soon after this, I was summoned to a meeting with Her Grace regarding matters which I would have been foolish to ignore. Business completed, the audience degenerated into a verbal melee concerning my current path. (More to the point, Her Grace threatened to unleash the Orcish Hordes of Cantor Loop if I refused to submit to her will.) Luckily, She bred me well (and a bit too close to her own image) and I was able to use her own twisted brand of logic to gain her half-hearted blessing in my endeavors. I convinced Her that it would be to the benefit of The Family were I to remain at large on Dragon Rock as an agent incognito, seeking out plots and devilments detrimental to our prosperity where they are likely to be hatched.
This is not exactly the flower I expected to bloom when I began planting the seeds of my own garden, but I must confess it allows me some further range in life. No longer must I worry about the interference of Mother's Finest and I am able to pursue my own path as I see fit. I shall take this as a victory and celebrate appropriately upon my return to Lucille's.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
I Am Enthralled
1st Alturiak, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
It is now one month since my escape from The Family and things progress most agreeably. Indeed, Lucille knew exactly how to solve my little problem. I can now prowl the Rock at will with no fear of attracting attention. Just this morning, in the local market, I crossed paths with an uncle of mine with whom I've always been close and to test my new disguise I reached for the same item as he. We argued for posession, shortly, before I apologized profusely for my terrible manners and surrendered the trinket to him. At no time did his face register recognition! This man, who is like a brother to me, was completely deceived! Oh, the miracles of modern wizardry never cease to amaze me!
I celebrated this new step on the road to independence by purchasing no small amount of rounds for Lucilles' clientele this evening, introducing myself as her new "artist-in-residence." I was even able to interest enough of the patrons in my work so as to easily pay my bar tab for the night. I wonder if the Captain of the Guard will hang his sketch of Xin-Chao, (a thoroughly delectable creature and an insatiable marathoner in the boudoir,) on the wall of his office next to the crude portrait of his wife and child. (I assume it's a crude portrait. It may be his family which is crude, making the portrait accurate, in which case I offer my apologies to the portraitist and my condolences to the captain.)
Toward the end of the evening I was completely enthralled by the Masq'd Bard, a performer of great skill and magnificent voice. Though her body was cloaked and her face partially obscured by a mask, (her skin was the color of fresh blood, which I must confess caused my own blood to quicken its pace, though it may in fact have been make-up,) the timbre and range of her voice belied a stirringly raw, earthy sensuality. I pressed Madame Lucille for details but she remained mute on the subject. Indeed, as she pointed out, how would I feel if she suddenly began telling all her residents secrets? On that note, I bade her a good evening and placed a suitable generosity in her palm.
It is now one month since my escape from The Family and things progress most agreeably. Indeed, Lucille knew exactly how to solve my little problem. I can now prowl the Rock at will with no fear of attracting attention. Just this morning, in the local market, I crossed paths with an uncle of mine with whom I've always been close and to test my new disguise I reached for the same item as he. We argued for posession, shortly, before I apologized profusely for my terrible manners and surrendered the trinket to him. At no time did his face register recognition! This man, who is like a brother to me, was completely deceived! Oh, the miracles of modern wizardry never cease to amaze me!
I celebrated this new step on the road to independence by purchasing no small amount of rounds for Lucilles' clientele this evening, introducing myself as her new "artist-in-residence." I was even able to interest enough of the patrons in my work so as to easily pay my bar tab for the night. I wonder if the Captain of the Guard will hang his sketch of Xin-Chao, (a thoroughly delectable creature and an insatiable marathoner in the boudoir,) on the wall of his office next to the crude portrait of his wife and child. (I assume it's a crude portrait. It may be his family which is crude, making the portrait accurate, in which case I offer my apologies to the portraitist and my condolences to the captain.)
Toward the end of the evening I was completely enthralled by the Masq'd Bard, a performer of great skill and magnificent voice. Though her body was cloaked and her face partially obscured by a mask, (her skin was the color of fresh blood, which I must confess caused my own blood to quicken its pace, though it may in fact have been make-up,) the timbre and range of her voice belied a stirringly raw, earthy sensuality. I pressed Madame Lucille for details but she remained mute on the subject. Indeed, as she pointed out, how would I feel if she suddenly began telling all her residents secrets? On that note, I bade her a good evening and placed a suitable generosity in her palm.
A Learning Curve
15th Hammer, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
One simply cannot fathom the difficulties in studying the nude female form until one embarks upon the quest one's self. It is one thing to delineate that particular bounty which is woman from scholarly exercises, but endless hours spent in museums divining the techniques of the Great Masters such as Easly, Dee, Otus or Frau Zetta become child's play when confronted with a living, breathing model. To have a woman so near, open and unhindered by the restraint of fabric only for the purpose of painting seems to me, a sin. I can see that my chosen path will be fraught with temptation, and alas, that is the one thing in life I have never been able to resist.
Just this morning I was sketching Geneve, one of the girls here at Lucille's whom I spent the evening with. The light was shining beatifically through the window, illuminating the smoke in the room as it escaped the hookah and silhouetting her perfectly. After more than once failing to capture the scene accurately, (at least accurately enough for my rigid standards,) I began to realize that I was not giving full attention to my craft.
However, "rigid standards" and "full attention" were certainly not far from Geneve's mind and even closer to her reach. We spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon adding charges to my account, though as a resident, I do receive a substantial discount on the services of the ladies. To be honest, I deem it time and money well spent as Geneve is quite well versed in the language of love. Indeed, she is possibly the most fluent girl here at Lucille's and she never fails to teach me something new.
It is only my second ride here, and I find myself somewhat hindered in movement by the simple fact of who I am. I must put some serious thought into a diguise of sorts so as to move more freely upon the Rock. Perhaps I should seek advice from Lucille herself. Her clientele is diverse and she may know of someone who can assist me in this matter.
One simply cannot fathom the difficulties in studying the nude female form until one embarks upon the quest one's self. It is one thing to delineate that particular bounty which is woman from scholarly exercises, but endless hours spent in museums divining the techniques of the Great Masters such as Easly, Dee, Otus or Frau Zetta become child's play when confronted with a living, breathing model. To have a woman so near, open and unhindered by the restraint of fabric only for the purpose of painting seems to me, a sin. I can see that my chosen path will be fraught with temptation, and alas, that is the one thing in life I have never been able to resist.
Just this morning I was sketching Geneve, one of the girls here at Lucille's whom I spent the evening with. The light was shining beatifically through the window, illuminating the smoke in the room as it escaped the hookah and silhouetting her perfectly. After more than once failing to capture the scene accurately, (at least accurately enough for my rigid standards,) I began to realize that I was not giving full attention to my craft.
However, "rigid standards" and "full attention" were certainly not far from Geneve's mind and even closer to her reach. We spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon adding charges to my account, though as a resident, I do receive a substantial discount on the services of the ladies. To be honest, I deem it time and money well spent as Geneve is quite well versed in the language of love. Indeed, she is possibly the most fluent girl here at Lucille's and she never fails to teach me something new.
It is only my second ride here, and I find myself somewhat hindered in movement by the simple fact of who I am. I must put some serious thought into a diguise of sorts so as to move more freely upon the Rock. Perhaps I should seek advice from Lucille herself. Her clientele is diverse and she may know of someone who can assist me in this matter.
I Re-invent Myself
1st Hammer, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
"There is only so much entertainment that unlimited wealth can purchase."
-H Darger
It was this thought which entered my brain and refused to leave at the last family function I attended, the celebration of the Winter Solstice. Although the evening was one which ninety-nine percent of Realmspace would sever a limb to attend: bards, orators, tragedians, dignitaries, no less than twelve open bars, a twenty-six course feast, and hours of utter boredom.
For instance, on my right was a wealthy duchess, (is there any other type?) who was more interested in the contents of my galligaskins than in the exquisitely crottled greep on the plate before her. On my left, her husband, the 75th Duke of Boringdale or some such province, regaling me with tales of the thrill-a-moment world of multi-planar, inter-species chartered accountancy. Directly across from me sat their daughter, a succulent, doe-eyed ingenue whose interest to me was lost at about the same time as her innocence. (In the cloak room, just before the appetizers were served.) I feigned fanatic interest in every topic thrown my way during the course of the evening, all the while plotting my escape.
The following morning I gathered some canvas and pigments, a few treasured volumes of poetry, a choice bottle of wine and some cheese and bread, (a gentleman should never be denied a good meal due to the inconsistencies of travel,) and set off to find my own path in this world. (Of course, only after duly expressing my deepest appreciation to the duchess for a very stirring climax to an otherwise dreary evening!) After a small withdrawal from the "Family Emergency Fund," I realized there was only one place suitable to seek the thrill of adventure: that seething anthill which has hung above my head for most of my life like the Sword of Damocles.
Dragon Rock.
After a short recce I installed myself at Lucille's House, one of the Rock's finer bagnios, with the intent of improving my artistic skills both as a painter and as an escort de femme. I leave it to time to judge the former, the latter I leave up to the fairer sex.
"There is only so much entertainment that unlimited wealth can purchase."
-H Darger
It was this thought which entered my brain and refused to leave at the last family function I attended, the celebration of the Winter Solstice. Although the evening was one which ninety-nine percent of Realmspace would sever a limb to attend: bards, orators, tragedians, dignitaries, no less than twelve open bars, a twenty-six course feast, and hours of utter boredom.
For instance, on my right was a wealthy duchess, (is there any other type?) who was more interested in the contents of my galligaskins than in the exquisitely crottled greep on the plate before her. On my left, her husband, the 75th Duke of Boringdale or some such province, regaling me with tales of the thrill-a-moment world of multi-planar, inter-species chartered accountancy. Directly across from me sat their daughter, a succulent, doe-eyed ingenue whose interest to me was lost at about the same time as her innocence. (In the cloak room, just before the appetizers were served.) I feigned fanatic interest in every topic thrown my way during the course of the evening, all the while plotting my escape.
The following morning I gathered some canvas and pigments, a few treasured volumes of poetry, a choice bottle of wine and some cheese and bread, (a gentleman should never be denied a good meal due to the inconsistencies of travel,) and set off to find my own path in this world. (Of course, only after duly expressing my deepest appreciation to the duchess for a very stirring climax to an otherwise dreary evening!) After a small withdrawal from the "Family Emergency Fund," I realized there was only one place suitable to seek the thrill of adventure: that seething anthill which has hung above my head for most of my life like the Sword of Damocles.
Dragon Rock.
After a short recce I installed myself at Lucille's House, one of the Rock's finer bagnios, with the intent of improving my artistic skills both as a painter and as an escort de femme. I leave it to time to judge the former, the latter I leave up to the fairer sex.
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