Ch124: Attending the Party

Krvavy can’t help but be awed as she steps through the wide doorway.

This place just looks amazing...

The very first thing that catches her eye is the grand crystal chandelier that hangs in the very center of this lavish lobby, its pale metallic arms stretched out and burdened by countless white jewels that glow like soft moonlight. A few of those gleaming gems shine much brighter than the rest, casting their warm light throughout this vast entrance hall, filling it with life.

The barbarian pauses, glancing down at the luxurious purple and black carpet rolled out before the door. She is hesitant to tread upon it. She doesn’t want to tarnish the beautiful and vibrant floral patterns emblazoned onto that expanse of fabric. It would be like walking across a woven work of art...

A sentiment that even the floor beyond seems to share, those large slabs of marbled stone looking so... so luxurious. So smooth and shiny, polished to perfection. She can barely see the seams between those expansive tiles, her gaze instead drawn towards the swirling patterns they bear, like a snapshot of wind billowing through clouds or water surging through a turbulent stream.

But more surprising than the beauty of that floor is the fact that... that it isn’t cold like she expected. The faintest heat emanates from it, barely noticeable beneath even this Drakling’s inhuman feet.

Her emerald eyes follow the elegantly marbled eddies that adorn the floor, trailing over towards the nearest wall. It too is stunning, decorated with elaborately embellished mouldings and repeating geometric patterns that reach all the way up to the arched ceiling high above.

Krvavy knew that the Countess’ private estate was going to be rather opulent, but this... This is a bit more spectacular than she expected. Everything in this lobby points to great wealth, yes, but none of it is tacky. It isn’t trimmed with gold or silver, and there aren’t rare gems or precious trinkets on display. The whole room itself is a piece of art, showing off the beauty of this place without needing to brag incessantly about how much money its owner has.

The butler gives Krvavy a few moments to take in the sights, before politely clearing his throat to get her attention. With a simple gesture for her to follow, the older man heads off through the lobby and into an equally beautiful hallway, leaving the barbarian no choice but to walk upon those dazzling carpets. They are so soft...

A relative quiet hangs over servant and guest as they pass through the slightly winding hallways, heading deeper into this castle mansion.

Countless paintings hang from the walls, each one depicting a different landscape. Some are stylized, others more realistic. Some show fantastical scenes, others mundane settings. But all are beautiful. As are the frames that hold each image in place, the wood sculpted into wondrous shapes and left gleaming with a rich varnish.

A faint noise can be heard in the distance ahead, gradually growing louder with each step taken. It... sounds kind of like classical music, played only on some stringed instruments. But there is also a bit of a relaxed jazzy feel to it, which is a little odd considering the surroundings...

“Here we are.” The butler states as they approach an open doorway, a heavy white curtain hanging closed just beyond it. “Do enjoy yourself tonight.”

Unsure of how exactly to respond, Krvavy simply nods her head and steps forwards, carefully pushing her way through the veil.

The room beyond carries the same beauty as the rest of the building so far, but is much more vast in size than even the lobby was. The covered doorway seems to have led straight into the center of the room, with an equal amount of space far to the left and far to the right. A few tables fill those areas, with men and woman in elegant outfits milling around conversing with each other. Beyond those tables, in the far corners, are a few musicians playing together in perfect harmony despite the vast distance between them.

Ahead, the room extends outwards in a semi-circle of tall windows which overlook a beautiful walled off and well illuminated section of the gorgeous gardens outside. Trees covered with pink blossoming petals fill the view through that polished glass, leading past manicured flowerbeds towards a slightly out of place pagoda, the tiles of its roof a deep purple.

Above her head, hanging from the domed ceiling of that semi-circle extension, is another vast crystal chandelier. The countless gemlights that decorate it are twinkling like gentle stars in the night.

The music, now louder yet still at a comfortable volume, is overlaid with the buzz of a dozen different conversations.

Krvavy slowly shakes her head. Another major flaw in this plan has just occurred to her: she has terrible social skills. Everyone else in here appears to be talking with at least one other person. Which is quite the problem, as Krvavy has no idea how to enter into an existing conversation without butting rudely into it. And being rude is... less than ideal. Especially with what she is and how she is dressed.

With a faint sigh, she decides to just head over to a nearby table. One that is covered in what appears to be various little snacks. One that no one else is standing next to.

A faint frown finds its way onto her face as she approaches the table.

Everything on it seem to be... fruit stuff. Mostly sliced and diced into various shapes, though there are a few that look like they have been sprinkled with sugar and skewered onto toothpicks. There is even a pineapple sitting on the table, seemingly left as just a decoration. Krvavy briefly wonders if this is all just some sort of fancy display, but she can see other guests eating bits from other tables. And it does look like a few pieces have already taken from this one as well, at least judging by the few gaps here and there...

Reaching out, the barbarian carefully grabs at a small stick with a little cube of what Inspect assures her is a pear skewered at the end of it. The piece of pear is rather juicy and surprisingly delicious, but it is also a lot sweeter than Krvavy expected. She definitely won’t be able to eat many of these...

“Hey there, here’s a new face I haven’t seen before!”

That sudden voice nearly startles Krvavy, prompting her to quickly glance over her shoulder. Standing just an arms reach away from her is a rather burly older man, roughly a head shorter than her, whose short black hair is peppered with white and grey. A large scar runs down his face, crossing a dull milky eye and leaving a chip in his lips before fading into his large beard.

The man’s mouth splits into a warm smile as he takes a step closer. “On whose invitation are you here, if you don’t mind the question?” He asks, the numerous silver teeth that fill his mouth shining in the soft light that fills this ballroom.

“Zamozhyn.” Krvavy replies after a few seconds, idly dropping the toothpick in an obvious waste basket right next to the table. A tinge of annoyance passes through her, as Shadow could have at least told her who this invitation supposedly came from. She is lucky the butler said the merchant’s name...

“Ahh... That old scrimping codger... He doesn’t think much of these gatherings. Probably just gave you an invite to save on the coin he should have paid you.” The scarred man chuckles and slowly shakes his head. Rather idly, he pats down the puffy rust-red jacketed vest that rests atop his silver-grey tunic. “Ahh, but where are my manners? I am Vasiliy Veles, head of the Silver Spears Mercenary Company.”

“Krvavy.” The barbarian responds, eyeing the hand that is held out towards her. Without much hesitation, she grasps onto it and is immediately pulled in towards this burly man, briefly getting her shoulder clasped before being releasing from his firm handshake.

“You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?” The mercenary leader asks, the faintest bit of hope in his voice. “We’re always looking for competent folk.”

“Not the kind you’re talking about.” The barbarian lightly shrugs. “I... prefer doing my own thing.”

“Fair enough.” Vasiliy returns, seemingly unbothered Krvavy’s rejection. “Our barracks are in the Outer District, near the North-East gate, if you ever change your mind.” Judging by his tone, he doesn’t expect the barbarian to take him up on that offer. But it still doesn’t hurt to make it. “It sure would be a nice change of pace to hire someone who I don’t need to train into competence.”

“You train your people yourself?” Krvavy curiously asks, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

Vasiliy slowly nods. “It isn’t just me training the rookies, but I have been spending more time with them in recent years...” The burly man sighs, before his mouth spreads into a wide silver-toothed smile once again. “I may look old, but I’m still one of the most dangerous men in this city. You can put just about any weapon in my hands and I’d be a threat with it, though I prefer the larger two-handed ones. That extra bit of reach can be the difference between victory and defeat, between living and dying. Though the old shield and stick aren’t bad either. That’s what I started off with, hence the name of my Company. What about you?”

“I’ve got an axe. A real monster of a weapon. Head’s about this long,” Krvavy smiles proudly as she holds her hands out, the distance between them roughly the same size as the cutting edge of her axe. “The thing is taller than I am too, but that’s mostly due to the spearhead right at the end.”

The mercenary leader gives an appreciative whistle. “I’d love to see a weapon like that in action, as long as I’m not on the receiving end!” He warmly laughs, before giving his head another soft shake. “I take it you wear some sort of heavy armour with that? You’d sure cut an imposing figure on the battlefield.”

“No, I hardly wear any armour at all.” Pride wells up inside Krvavy’s chest as she essentially brags to this burly man. “I’m wearing more now than I’ve ever properly fought in.”

“Really?” Vasiliy’s brow shoots up in surprise. “That’s... I want to say impressive, but it is really just reckless and more than a little stupid. No offence, but if that’s how you fight then it is a surprise you’ve lived as long as you have.”

Krvavy chuckles slightly as she looks down towards the older man, unable to keep the smirk off of her face. “It’s not like I fight naked. Besides, I don’t go into battle undefended: I pretty much substitute armour with some magic.”

“If it works for you.” Vasiliy shrugs his rather broad shoulders. “Still, don’t underestimate the effectiveness of a good set of enchanted plate. Or even some mail.”

“Eh... Armour like that is just not for me.” The barbarian nonchalantly shrugs back. “I spend most of my time out in the middle of nowhere, and I’m not a blacksmith. I wouldn’t be able to repair that kind of stuff if it got damaged.”

“Fair enough.” Vasiliy returns, pausing for a moment to critically look Krvavy up and down. “You don’t have as many scars as I’d expect from someone who fights in such an... exposed state.”

“I heal well. It’s only the really deep wounds that leave a mark.” The Drakling smiles back, before tapping on the gunshot wound a little bit above her heart. “I’ve been hit in this exact spot multiple times. Pretty annoying, really. And these,” she turns to show off the three lines over the back of her shoulder, “are from a Rock Bear. Got me in a hug right as I was killing it. Its claws tore right down to the bone. Fun day, that was.”

“You killed one of those beasts on your own?” Again, surprise fills this mercenary leader’s scarred face.

“Oh, I wasn’t on my own. I had a... friend with me. She pretty much blinded the thing with a well-placed arrow.”

“Still, that’s quite an impressive feat. I wouldn’t want to face a Rock Bear without at least a dozen men. By the Hells, those beasts don’t seem to feel pain...” Vasiliy slowly exhales, not bothering to hide his astonishment. “You are really rubbing in the fact that you won’t join my Company, aren’t you?” He adds with a silver-toothed smile, clearly not being too serious.

“Yup.” Krvavy jokingly responds. Not sure of what to do with her hands, she reaches out and picks up another skewered pear cube.

“Ahh... I suppose that if I can’t recruit you then there’s no point in hogging all your time.” The older mercenary states. “Here, I’ll introduce you to some of the others. Got to make sure that invitation is actually worth something, yeah?”

With that Vasiliy turns and heads over to another table, expecting Krvavy to follow. Which she does. After dropping the toothpick into the waste basket, that is.

“Oyy! Lhook who’sh back!” A man in a rather fancy, yet slightly dishevelled, layered outfit calls out as they approach.

“Hells, how have you gotten so drunk so quickly!?” Vasiliy exasperatedly exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub at his brow. “I only stepped away for a few minutes!”

“Hahahah~!” Slightly shrill laughter peals out from a rather attractive woman standing nearby, her extravagant dress a vibrant red and trimmed with slightly garish bands of gold. “Oh, Vasi, you should see your face right now~!” She teases, raising up a frilly fan to help hide her sharp giggles. “He is just putting on an act~!”

“He is hardly exaggerating. The man is completely drunk.” A comparatively plainly dressed man tiredly sighs those words.

Vasiliy glares at the drunkard, who simply smiles widely in return. “Perhaps I should find a more composed group to introduce you to.” He dryly states, glancing back at Krvavy.

“Oh, Vasi, no need to be so dramatic~!” The cheery woman states, letting her long sleeves flutter as she waves her fan. “Introduce this new guest you’ve found! She looks... oh so interesting~!”

The mercenary leader closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, clearly regretting coming back to these three. “This foppish drunk whose every breath shames his late father is ‘Lord’ Maksim Trokhym.”

“Always sho harsh!” Maksim dramatically gasps, nearly spilling his drink as he sways it through the air.

“This fashionable and flippant woman is Lady Dariya Kseniya, wife of a prominent Lord within the Countess’ court and–”

“A generously philanthropic socialite~!” Lady Dariya interrupts the older mercenary, waving her frilly fan in front of her face as she gazes up at Krvavy. “My, what an outfit you have~! So bold~! I could never wear something akin to that, even if I had the assets for it~!” She playfully laughs out, pressing a hand against the barely noticeable swell of her modest breasts held firm in the ornate gold of her dress.

“Finally,” Vasiliy continues as if he wasn’t interrupted, “we have the one reasonable man amongst these three: Symon Ostap. A self-made merchant who deals mostly in weapons and armour. He supplies a good deal of the equipment my men make use of.”

Symon simply nods his head in greeting.

“Oh, Vasi, who is this new guest of yours~? Come on, introduce her already~!”

Vasiliy briefly closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. “I was about to, Dariya... This ‘new guest’ here is Krvavy. She is here on Zamozhyn’s invitation.”

“Oh, you poor thing!” Lady Dariya nearly wails as she frantically waves her frilly fan around. “To do the bidding of that old grump! It must have been torture!”

“I’m shure a big an shtrong woman like er can handhle it~!” The drunk noble coos, stumbling forwards slightly before getting stopped as Symon’s hand grips his shoulder.

“Maksim, have you not learned your lesson? First that Orc woman, and now this? Surely, your father must be spinning in his grave...”

“Pa washh cream... crem... cremberated!”

“Ahh... Symon, if the fop wants to get a few more bones broken then let him.” Vasiliy grumbles and shakes his head. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the pain will sober him up...”

“Mm.” The dull merchant hums back, not letting go of the drunk noble’s shoulder. “It is getting late, and I have work in the morn. And Maksim is due to collapse unconscious within the hour. So I shall take my leave, and send this drunkard on his way before he makes even more a fool of himself.”

“Aw... There goes my entertainment...” Lady Dariya sadly sighs, clicking her fan shut as she watches the sober man lead the drunk one away. “Oh, but I still have you two~! Any interesting stories you have to tell... Krvavy?”

“Earlier she mentioned killing a Rock Bear–”

“Oh, no no! Nothing like that! There are dozens of people I could speak to if all I wanted to hear were boring old hunting stories!” The opulent lady dramatically exclaims. “But I’m sure our new guest has many tales of her travels to regale us with~!”

“Uh... I don’t really.” Krvavy answers with a shrug. “At least not any you’d find interesting.”

“Oh, no matter~!” Lady Dariya hardly seems bothered by that admission, waving it off with her frilly fan. “Why don’t you try some of these delectable chocolates? They are quite the treat~!”

Krvavy glances towards the table, looking over the assortment of chocolatey sweets arranged in various displays. With a faint shrug she steps over and picks up one of the small spherical ones that she is pretty certain the noblewoman is gesturing to, popping it past her lips.

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise as the orb of chocolate immediately begins to melt and dissolve in her mouth, assailing her with a rich and creamy flavour.

“Wonderful, aren’t they~?” The opulent noblewoman asks, a proud smile visible on her lips. “I’ve considered purchasing some for myself, but... Oh, I’d eat them all so quick that I’d just make myself sick~!”

“Yes, yes, they are delicious little treats.” Vasiliy dismissively states. “If that is all, then we–”

“Oh, no no~! You are not stealing away this newcomer from me~!” Lady Dariya laughs, gently whacking her folded fan into the mercenary’s shoulder. “If you wish to leave, then so be it~! But I shall continue to show her around~! It is our duty to show that not all residents of our wonderful city are as stingy as old Zamozhyn~!”

Vasiliy simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, before glancing towards Krvavy with an apologetic look on his face.

The cheery noble’s hand suddenly grabs onto Krvavy’s wrist, gently pulling the Drakling away from both the table and mercenary leader.

“My, these scales of yours are not as stiff as I expected~!” A tinge of appreciative awe is audible in the Lady’s voice, her fingers squeezing down onto those supple scales. “Oh, how luxurious~! What luck you have to be adorned with such fashionable features~! And that is saying nothing of those wonderfully imposing horns you have~!”

Krvavy simply raises an eyebrow as she looks down at the woman whose head hardly reaches her breasts. She isn’t quite sure how to respond to all those compliments, but that hardly seems to matter as the opulent noblewoman abruptly perks up and glances off to the side.

“Oh, I am deeply sorry to do this to you, but could you wait here for just a moment as I step away for a few seconds?” Lady Dariya asks, though she doesn’t give the Drakling any time to respond. “Thanks~!”

With that the woman in her fancy red and gold dress hastens away, beelining straight towards someone who appears to be a well-dressed servant, leaving Krvavy standing alone and unattended.

But she doesn’t stay that way for very long, as another voice speaks up after just a moment.

“Hello there, it is always a pleasure to see new faces here.”

Krvavy turns to look at whoever is addressing her and is momentarily stunned by what she sees. Standing just a couple steps away is perhaps the most beautiful woman that she has ever laid eyes on.

An elegant air surrounds this absolutely gorgeous woman. Dignified, refined. Noble in the truest sense.

Glimmering light catches on the crystal glass held in her delicate fingers, drawing the Drakling’s gaze down her arm, to the detached sleeve that reaches from where her thumb joins her hand all the way to the soft skin of her upper arm, a handswidth or two beneath her bare shoulder.

The faint click of a heel tapping against solid stone rings out as this regal lady takes a single step forwards, the hem of her silken dress hovering just a hairsbreadth above the polished floor.

Krvavy’s gaze drops all the way down to the ground, catching on the shining silver threads that tastefully trim the dark purple fabric of that dress, finding herself following those lines upwards. A tight corset clings to this stunningly beautiful woman’s slim waist, extending upwards to contain her ample bosom while still leaving so much above that point utterly bare.

Sitting prominent on this alluring lady’s chest, resting below her collarbone and just barely above her cleavage, is a rather sizable almond-shaped gem. A brilliant amethyst, in colour if not name. Adorning that crystal are three pearls, of which two chains of silver and onyx are attached. Beside that necklace are three eye-catching beauty marks: two at the base of her right breast and one on her left.

Further up, past another beauty mark on her chin and those black painted lips curled into an amused smile, lay eyes of a vibrant purple colour, more magnificent than the gem resting in her cleavage. Krvavy’s heart flutters along with the thick black lashes surrounding those entrancing eyes, only able to look away as her attention is drawn further up still. Resting on this beautiful woman’s forehead is an oval gemstone, its polished surface covered in shades of purple and appearing as if it were a nebula, held in place by a band of onyx beads that disappear into her shining raven-black hair.

She stands tall amongst this gathering, yet is still shorter than Krvavy. The top of her head hardly reaches the Drakling’s shoulder.

“Admiring my jewellery, are you~?” The beautiful woman’s rich voice dances through the air in a playful singsong tone. A teasing joy fills her shining eyes as she reaches a delicate hand up to one of her long and pointed ears, gently brushing her elegant fingers across a large pearl dangling from an onyx chain, before lightly touching a smaller one further out. Her other ear has an identical pair of pearls, perfectly mirroring them. “These are meant to symbolize the two moons, though I cannot say the rest of what I wear has such meaning~. Some things are simply meant to look nice, to draw the eyes of others~.”

Krvavy struggles to say a single word as she takes in the otherworldly beauty of the lady in front of her. Blinking a few times, the barbarian’s mind only now seems to notice that this woman’s soft and supple skin is an alluring pink colour. Vibrant and vivid.

“Or have you simply never seen an Elf before~?” Those beautifully painted black lips playfully curl into an even wider smile.

“I... I have.” Krvavy responds with a slight shake of her head, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “Just not one... like you.”

“Haha~!” The pink-skinned Elf raises an elegant hand to half-cover her mouth as she quietly giggles, amused by that clumsy response. “I would not expect you to have.” She cheerfully replies, her warm amethyst eyes gazing upwards towards the Drakling. “Moon Elves are not a common sight anywhere beyond our homeland, though it is a bit presumptuous of myself to say ‘our’ when referring to that place. I have never been, and neither am I truly a Moon Elf. I am only half, you see, even if do not look it. I take much more after my mother than my father, so I have been told.”

“I’m Krvavy,” the barbarian hastily introduces herself, bowing her head slightly in an attempt to be courteous, “and I’m a Drakling.”

“A Drakling?” An elegant eyebrow raises up in a fairly playful manner. “I have read of your kind, yet never met one before. I am glad to be able to change that tonight.” The beautiful Moon Elf woman gently grabs onto her dark purple dress and dips down slightly in a brief curtsy. “You may call me Rina~.”

Krvavy’s face flushes even further as the half-Elf introduces herself in a casual yet oddly alluring manner. “That’s... a beautiful name. It fits you.”

Rina’s pointed ears wiggle with amusement as she suddenly steps forwards, her delicate hand gently pressing against the Drakling’s hard abs. “And Krvavy fits you. It sounds fierce and imposing~.” Her fingers caress upwards as a seductive tone fills her voice. “I would just love to have a proper chance to get better acquainted with you~, but...” Rina abruptly pulls herself back, acting professional and composed as she speaks without a tinge of sensuality in her words. “I do have others here who expect to speak to me. So, sadly, I must cut this meeting short and keep it as a simple greeting. Though if you stick around until later~...”

The extremely alluring Elf leaves it at that as she steps away, playfully winking an amethyst eye.

“Oh, wow~! How lucky you are~!”

Krvavy jumps slightly as Lady Dariya suddenly returns to her side, hardly getting a chance to catch her breath and compose herself before that opulent noblewoman steps right up to her. Her eye twitches slightly as she resists the urge to fiddle with her leather pants, simply ignoring the tight feeling of her crotch straining against the dark leather, and instead trust that the little decorative loincloth is able to hide her bulge.

“Here~!” The Lady hands over a fluted glass of fizzling red liquid. “It only took me a moment to get these, but I could not interrupt that brief meeting you just had~! How fortunate you are~! Oh~?” Dariya tilts her head slightly as she seems to pick up on the Drakling’s growing confusion. “Do you not know who you were talking to? Ahaha~! How splendid~! That was Alexandrina Yuliya Marzannavich, our dear Countess of Raseyne~!”

The barbarian’s brow shoots up in surprise. With absolutely no subtlety, she glances to the side and stares across the room, watching the beautiful pink-skinned Moon Elf talk to some important looking people.

“Ahaha~! Come, come~!” Lady Dariya giggles and delicately grabs onto the barbarian’s wrist. “Cassadina would love to hear about this~!”

With that, the opulently dressed noblewoman drags Krvavy towards another table.