McIan
Journeyman
The wraith passed silently across the grassy, treeless, expanse separating the Castle of Blood from the tavern-Inn that was Alderia's Oasis. It was very late, nearing midnight. For several days the Elder had his servants keep watch on the place to inform him when it was most devoid of guests. Upon learning that, he set his plan in motion. As he drew near he changed form again, appearing as a gentlemen dressed in finery, elegantly masculine, replete with a black feathered cap, red silk vest, puffy white shirt, black trousers and thigh boots. One stroke of his pointed fingernail upon his arm drew blood which he allowed to flow freely for a moment, staining his shirt sleeve. He then moved slowly to the porch and stumbled through the doors to fall heavily upon the floor.
The bar tender looked up from wiping plates as did the other working employee, a seller of rare liquors who, himself, was quite drunk and sitting alone at a table. The establishment was otherwise empty of patrons. The tender, named Alan, set down the plate he was cleaning and hurried to where the man lay, apparently unconscious, bleeding. "Gonna need some help with this one," he muttered as he hurriedly left the man and went upstairs. Alderia, the proprietor, had gone away on business. The only other authority figure was Mahal, whom her sister employed as a waitress. They returned to where the injured man lay and knelt down to examine him and his wound.
"Get a wet towel and some bandages!" she ordered, and Alan quickly complied. Cleaning the laceration, which was not too deep, she then applied a cloth bandage that began to immediately darken with blood. "Help me get him upstairs to one of the rooms," she insisted.
With difficulty, especially taking him upstairs, they got him to a room and lay him gently upon its single bed. He moaned softly and winced from the pain through closed eyes. "Get me a large bowl of water. I will tend him. The wound is not deep but I must stop the bleeding," she stated.
Alan hurried away to fulfill her request. As she removed his vest and began to unbutton his shirt, he opened his eyes and hers locked with his.
Moments later Alan returned but was shocked to see the man sitting on the side of the bed while Mahal lay face down on the floor. "What happened?" he inquired, setting down the water and roll of bandages. The man appeared to be confused, hardly awake, still obviously reeling from his injuries. "Sh... she just... fell over," he muttered.
Alan went to her and picked her up carefully. She was quite unconscious. "Ah, she probably passed out from seein' the blood. Never knew her to be so squeamish though," he added as he took her to an adjoining room to place her gently on the bed. In all the excitement he failed to notice the two small red pinprick holes at the base of her neck, partially concealed by the collar of her blouse.
The bar tender looked up from wiping plates as did the other working employee, a seller of rare liquors who, himself, was quite drunk and sitting alone at a table. The establishment was otherwise empty of patrons. The tender, named Alan, set down the plate he was cleaning and hurried to where the man lay, apparently unconscious, bleeding. "Gonna need some help with this one," he muttered as he hurriedly left the man and went upstairs. Alderia, the proprietor, had gone away on business. The only other authority figure was Mahal, whom her sister employed as a waitress. They returned to where the injured man lay and knelt down to examine him and his wound.
"Get a wet towel and some bandages!" she ordered, and Alan quickly complied. Cleaning the laceration, which was not too deep, she then applied a cloth bandage that began to immediately darken with blood. "Help me get him upstairs to one of the rooms," she insisted.
With difficulty, especially taking him upstairs, they got him to a room and lay him gently upon its single bed. He moaned softly and winced from the pain through closed eyes. "Get me a large bowl of water. I will tend him. The wound is not deep but I must stop the bleeding," she stated.
Alan hurried away to fulfill her request. As she removed his vest and began to unbutton his shirt, he opened his eyes and hers locked with his.
Moments later Alan returned but was shocked to see the man sitting on the side of the bed while Mahal lay face down on the floor. "What happened?" he inquired, setting down the water and roll of bandages. The man appeared to be confused, hardly awake, still obviously reeling from his injuries. "Sh... she just... fell over," he muttered.
Alan went to her and picked her up carefully. She was quite unconscious. "Ah, she probably passed out from seein' the blood. Never knew her to be so squeamish though," he added as he took her to an adjoining room to place her gently on the bed. In all the excitement he failed to notice the two small red pinprick holes at the base of her neck, partially concealed by the collar of her blouse.