In the city of the Dust, Al-Lazar, there exists a mesmerizing tradition born from the opulence of the Flower Quarter known as the Dance of the Seven Veils. It is a performance that embodies both sensuality and mystery, a dance that weaves together the allure of hidden secrets and the gradual revelation of beauty.
The dancer begins, shrouded in seven veils, each a different hue, symbolizing layers of intrigue, power, and unspoken desires. As the music rises—a haunting melody of flutes and drums—the dancer moves with an ethereal grace, twisting and swaying, as if she were the embodiment of the dance itself. With each verse, a veil is cast aside, not in haste, but with a deliberate, ritualistic precision. The dance reveals not just the flesh beneath, but the naked soul of the tale she tells—an ancient saga of love, loss, and the inexorable march of time.
By the time the final veil falls, the audience is left breathless, not only by the beauty of the dancer but by the haunting feeling that they have glimpsed something beyond the ken of mere erotica, but something almost sacred.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
As a sign of the changing times, even the Begonia’s Shade had undergone extensive renovations. The inn had expanded to include another floor and now boasted not one, but two windcatchers, or Barajeels. Fortune, it seemed, had visited the owner many times across the years.
They must have been expecting me, for the proprietress, Naira, came out to meet me.
“Gilgamesh,” she greeted in a controlled voice, the weight of the long years behind that simple word.
Her face, which time had been most kind to, was painted with a mix of suppressed emotions. The older woman wore her age well with only the worry in her eyes and the slightly deepened lines at their corners the evidence of the passage of time
“Naira,” I replied simply in a flat tone, as a score of attendants rushed to see to us. The innkeeper was tactful enough not to immediately ask about the hows, whens, or whys of my return—civilized behavior, indeed.
I waved the attendants away and asked to be directed to my room. I already had too many questions surrounding me; I didn’t need to invite more. Once there, I removed my City Guard armor and placed it in a chest in the corner. I would have to think of a safe way to dispose of it later. In truth, a part of me wished to keep the cuirass at least.
I felt safe here, but I could not quite shake off the feeling that I had been followed.
*****
My worries fell away from me after a swift bath, a light repast, and a change into fresh clothes. Soon after, Larynda and I were escorted to a secluded lounge on a new floor. The room was softly lit, casting a warm glow over the well-crafted furnishings. Seated around a round table were Elenora, Niminia, and Naira, their heads bent in worried conversation. The air was infused with the delicate fragrance of herbal tea, which they sipped as they discussed matters in low, thoughtful tones.
“Thank you for coming,” Naira started, pointing to two empty chairs.
The two women from the Snake’s Songbird looked at me worriedly, especially Niminia. They must have doubted that one man could have taken on the entire might of the Bulls.
I accepted the offered place at the table and held out a small teacup and waited for Elenora to pour me some tea. The teapot, a delicate piece, was adorned with intricate winding blue vines across its bone china surface. The matching teacup was no less exquisite, its thin rim feeling almost weightless between my fingers. As Elenora carefully lifted the teapot and began to pour, the soft sound of liquid filling the cup, I noted herbal notes that were close to perhaps lavender or chamomile.
Elenora smiled slightly as she set the teapot down, her movements graceful and precise, as if this ritual was a cherished routine. The whole thing felt practiced.
It was finally time to get down to business. A necessary, if somewhat annoying, part of the game.
“These ladies have asked me for a place to stay… the debt I have with you does not extend to such a number of, well, companions,” Naira started the discussion primly, her back almost ramrod straight.
Strange thoughts that were not quite mine rose unbidden to the fore of my mind. Ungrateful wretch, I freed your daughter and you can not put up a few women for a… more than a few days.
Pressing these errant thoughts back down, I ran a few scenarios through my mind as I formulated a reply.
I tapped my fingers across the table. “They will bring more than enough business to this establishment,” I stated flatly. “More than enough to cover room and board. The details I will leave to you, women.”
She looked at me, visibly annoyed.“That may be so, but there are certain other things… You may not have known, but in your absence, an Aranthian criminal cartel, the Bulls of Heaven have claimed parts of the city as their domain. This street included. They will not allow such a form of… business to be run here without their permission,” Naira protested.
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“I must also voice my complaint. We were directed here under false pretenses… we thought that you were an agent of the Council! That you were a Sleeper! And, what of my compensation?” squeaked the diminutive Niminia.
I looked at all the women in the eye, “You will no longer have to worry about the Bulls.”
Larynda decided then to interject. “Ladies, he’s telling the truth. He might be a stick in the mud sometimes, but on this he isn’t telling any porkies. And… you really should think about how you talk to a man who just cut the heart out of a criminal cartel,” she put forth with misplaced pride.
Naira and Elenora looked worried but unsurprised. Niminia on the other hand looked between the states of apoplexy and common terror.
“Miss Niminia… that’s you, right? We all know what happens to those with loose tongues. And look on the bright side! You won’t be having to pay the Bulls, or whatever, any tax or protection money! This is a win-win for you!” added Larynda with a diplomatic smile. I noticed when she was excited, she had a tendency to revert to her more childish speech patterns.
“I guess… so,” Niminia ventured, looking somewhat mollified. “But there is still the matter of lost business,” she added with a sniff. “Not to mention the crime of pretending to be an officer of the law.”
Larynda’s expression tightened with annoyance, clearly intent on winning this exchange at all costs, simply for the sake of victory. She would need to learn not to kick someone when they were down, to allow them to save face.
I decided to intervene before the situation escalated further. “I will personally offer twenty gold pieces to cover any loss of business, and another twenty to you, Naira, for the sudden intrusion.”
The Gnome glanced at Elenora before responding weakly, “That… will be acceptable,” she acquiesced reluctantly. The woman had been thoroughly cowed. In this world, as in my old one, wealth was just another form of power, a tool to bludgeon others into submission.
“And, of course, your silence,” I continued, my voice sweet but laced with menace. “I’ll leave it to your imagination to decide what will happen to anyone in this room if you decide to cross me. Consider the Council as well—I doubt they would be sympathetic to your situation. Know that if I am betrayed, I’ll know exactly who to visit first.”
I finished with a smile that was anything but reassuring, the threat hanging heavy in the air.
“And with that, ladies, I think our business is concluded,” I finished with grim finality, standing up. “Naira, I will speak with you tomorrow at your convenience,” I inclined my head at Zariyah’s mother.
Larynda mirrored my actions, and moments later we left for our respective rooms to leave the women to settle the nitty gritty.
*****
Feeling rather exhausted—mentally, if not physically—I began to settle in for the night when a polite knock sounded at my door. Damnit, Larynda, I thought, whatever you have to say, couldn’t it wait until morning?
I opened the door, only to be pleasantly surprised.
Elenora stood there, accompanied by another pretty brown-haired girl who I only vaguely recognized. The girl was carrying a tray with a pewter jug and three cups.
“We came to offer the gratitude of the Snake’s Songbird, a peace offering of Niminia’s. I, in particular, wanted to express my own very special thanks,” offered the blonde woman with a lazy, seductive drawl.
Caught off guard, I was momentarily at a loss for words.
“May we come in?” Elenora asked with a sweet smile, not waiting for a reply as they both gently pushed past me into the room. The other young woman with the tray nervously bowed to me once she had pushed past before placing the tray on the dresser.
Elenora looked at herself in the long mirror of my room, running a dainty finger through her blonde hair. Satisfied, she turned back to the waiting girl who stood next to her and was now nervously playing with a loose strand of brown hair.
“This is Afareen,” the blonde woman said judgingly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Introduce yourself,” she ordered.
“This one is Afareen, I am from this city and have some skill with the the Tanbur and can recite some of the epics. I can, if it pleases you, entertain you this evening…samasa,” she answered hesitantly. Afareen kept her eyes demurely lowered, glancing at me occasionally from beneath her long lashes.
As she began to introduce herself, I sent out tendrils of empowered magic. It wasn’t out of fear of an unlikely assassin, but rather out of curiosity—to see what my Sage’s Sight would reveal when used on a civilian target. The tendrils soon returned to me, laden with the information I sought.
Afareen Khoroushi - Apprentice Courtesan [Human lvl. 9]
Health: 74/74
Stamina: 23/23
Mana: 8/8
Improved Music (lvl.1)
Herbalism (lvl.3)
A small smile touched my lips. Well, that was interesting—Herbalism? Who would have thought? Another curious thought crossed my mind: how did courtesans earn their experience? Perhaps I would soon find out.
“People have a taste for the new and the familiar,” Elenora explained in a slow husky voice, her eyes never leaving mine as she moved closer to the other girl. “I have been teaching her… Would you like to hear Afareen sing? Or Dance the Seven Veils? Or perhaps you'd prefer her to recite some verse?” She laughed softly, her hands deftly working the girl’s loose shift to reveal her bare shoulders. “How about we dance the seven veils for you, samasa?
Afareen had a likeness to Zariyah, my breath began to quicken with a need to possess. A lustful need to have both of them. A need that I was finding more difficult to suppress with each passing second.
“Afareen here has yet to take a customer. Perhaps it's because she lacks confidence. Her maidenhead remains untouched…” the blonde woman continued, her hands slipping to her apprentice’s waist to undo the cinch. “Her lips, too, have yet to be kissed by any man,” she added, her tone both an offer and a challenge.
Drawing Afareen closer, she kissed her, tugging gently at her clothes. Elenora’s gaze never left mine. Afareen’s garments fell away like fresh petals, revealing the nubile beauty beneath.
Utterly seduced, I found myself more than willing to help with the new girl’s further education.