Shady Business

Lent was a tall human with red braided hair. The tattoo advertising his allegiance to vampires was hidden beneath the sleeve of his clothing. Lent walked into the pub, and stood before the barkeep. He asked for a pint. Luciano wiped the bar and replied, "A pint, stranger? What's your pleasure, ale or stout?" Lent answered, "Ale please," and threw a few coins on the counter. Lent then looked at the bartender and said, "Foggy night out tonight. You've got to be careful where you step or you might fall in the water. Dangerous for those who don't swim."
Lent came to this pub with an agenda. He was instructed by his master to meet someone here to pick up some ancient artifact that had been smuggled in. Whether his contact was human or vampire, Lent didn't know. He had always been cautious about meeting vampires that weren't coven to his ancient master. "A servant can always make for an easy meal," his father told him. "You must be on your guard when around other vampires." Despite being a vampire worshiper, his life belonged only to his master.
He had never met his master personally, nor had his father before him, and so on for generations. His instructions were always given telepathically, "Get a victim and bring it here. Go fetch this; kill this person and bring me their heart." All he had of his master was a picture of a winged figure with blue skin. "Easy enough to spot," Lent said to himself when his father first described the master; but none of his family had seen their master for generations. It was only in the past few decades that his family started receiving orders again, but there was no question they were coming from the master. The orders would come in a voice and call to him, "Lent, descendant of Vorador, I command you..." Only his family and his master knew that he was kin to Vorador. He doubted even the ancient vampire would know, if he were still alive.
Lent looked around the pub and sipped his ale. The place was empty, and he didn't like it. It made him uneasy, and the bartender was too busy counting his money to pay attention. "Something is going to happen," his instincts told him. "Soon."

The bartender's voice intruded, "You seem anxious this night, stranger. Something troubling you? Another ale to ease your nerves? Believe me, I have heard them all over this bar. Money problems, women problems, ... Sarafan problems. They don't seem to be popular as of late. From what I hear, some of them have been harassing the locals more than they have been killing vampires. But then again, when vampires become scarce ... they have to occupy themselves somehow."

The sound of the pelting rain grew stronger as the door to the bar opened. Kour stepped in, tilting his head slightly to clear the entranceway, and he paused as the door closed behind him. Without the slightest of movements and towering over all, his eyes panned the room and the mood turned silent. He made his way to the bar and took a seat.
"Forgive my intrusion. I am looking for the one called Lent." Kour had silver hair, tied back in a pony-tail, and he wore black leather. There was a silver gauntlet on his left arm; the cuff was carved with the insignia of the underground religion worshipping Kain, although no one else would know that.

Gadorian stalked the pitch black alleyways of the city—it would be difficult to find any meal this late at night. He had other concerns as well—morning was fast approaching. While Gadorian could certainly survive a day in the sun, it wouldn't exactly be...pleasant. And then he saw him. Half asleep and leaning against the wall was a Sarafan night-watchman. He was pleased to find that the Sarafan was carrying the past week's pay. Gadorian approached his quarry and ended him as quickly as he had found him. Now for sanctuary from the ever-approaching sun...somewhere dark, small, and quiet. He had a small dwelling in the city where he stored all the possessions he couldn't carry on his person, but he would not be able to make it back there before the rising sun. 'What's that? A bar? Surely they have rooms for rent,' he thought.
Gadorian stepped into the pub and was nearly blinded by the torch light. Yes, this place would be perfect. The bar was quiet, almost deserted. He saw only the barkeep and a few other patrons. Gadorian set down a pile of coin on the bar - easily three times what any room in this place could possibly cost. "Barkeep...I need a room. The tip is to ensure I remain...undisturbed. And a drink, the strongest you've got." Gadorian decided to wait out the rest of the night in the bar, and not go to his room till morning did finally arrive. He never was much of a sleeper...

Izael didn't know how long he had lain on the beach unconscious. When he looked around him, he saw the sun rising. His duty had ended. He had to report to the HQ quickly. Soaking wet he walked through the docks to the mighty cathedral. Entering his room, he quickly changed his armor to a clean and (above all) dry alba and went into the great hall where morning prayers were on their way.
Almost an hour later Izael walked back to the pub. He needed to relax a while and think about everything that had happened. He could then sleep the rest of the day. He entered and said, "Hello again. Give me the best you've got, this time double. I've got a lot of things to think about."

Lent, finishing his conversation with the bartender, said, "Thanks for the sympathetic thought, but I'll not bore you," and he flicked the bartender another coin. He then stood up and motioned to Kour to follow, just as the Sarafan guard walked in. Both took a deep breath, pulled their hoods down, and walked to a booth. Lent walked past the vampire and gave him an extra long look. "Seems our vampire visitor is attracting company," Lent thought, "I hope he's not seriously thinking about sleeping here." Looking the vampire over, he seemed old, and powerful. Not too good at dealing with humans on a personal level. Vampires always over pay and over tip for everything, but Lent knew that money didn't always buy cooperation. Still, the pub was safe, unless you were the Sarafan guard. The guard looked young, and pure. The sort of purity that a guard loses after signing on for two weeks, this one was definitely new. Lent was careful not to look at the guard too much. "Young Sarafan are often ambitious," Lent thought, "Best not to attract attention."
The two men sat across from each other at the pub. Kour showed the symbol on his cuff, and Lent replied by showing his tattoo. Kour did a little hand gesture and the surrounding lights dimmed slightly. "Cleaver trick," Lent thought. "Do you have it?" Lent asked without looking directly at the mysterious person. Without uttering a word, Kour panned the room and without warning invaded Lent's thoughts. "It is not safe here. Take the road north of the Pillars to Nachtholm. Wait at the bottom of the bridge by nightfall tomorrow. There, you will receive further instructions."
As Kour lifted from his chair, he thought, "You may consider staying here a while." He motioned to the next table. "Your old vampire friend may need your assistance." As he reached for the door, head down, he turned slightly and thought, "Clever trick, indeed. We will need more than clever tricks, my friend."

The barkeep, oblivious, was dealing with the vampire at the bar. "I'll ask no questions, stranger. Your donation to my business is appreciated. Up the stairs and down the right hall. Room 207." He tossed the key onto the bar, "and take this, on the house." He poured a tall glass of ale. "One word of advice, my patron, it is not wise to toss the emperor's gold about so carelessly. There have been many well dressed carcasses found lately missing their purses. And a favor if you will... send some business this way. You look like one who has many friends... or employees..." Luciano returned to minding the bar.

Lent watched the stranger Kour leave. He hated to have his thoughts read, but there was nothing he could do about it. He knew his thoughts were out there for those to read, and he had not the knowledge to block them. Nachtholm was a long way from Freeport, he could cut across the Termogent Forest to save himself some time. With his route decided, Lent stood up and started to get on his way. He hated to feel rushed, so this way he could take his time.
He watched the vampire go to his room, and shrugged. "I suppose he knows what he's doing," Lent thought, and then started on his way. He had a long way to travel, and with no horse, it would be a tiring trip. He had to reach Nachtholm by night.

From a nearby alley, two figures in the shadows watched as Lent left the bar. "Patience is not for the young, is it, my lord?" "No Orugarde, it is not. Please follow him. Make sure he arrives safe." "Yes, my lord." And with that, Orugarde set out for Termogent Forest. Turning into the dark alley, Kour walked into the black and vanished.