We gather for pleasure and blossoms adorn our hair in celebration. Ah, but fortune has not returned and I sit anxious, exposed. Alone I sit, nurturing an old and stagnant routine born of the long, empty days that accumulate, bare and desolate. Oh, how they distort my sense of time in this most unyielding of years. Ah, misfortune, you most miserable of serpents who lie in wait under perfumed leaves. Why must you always wait for time and age’s heavy-handed blows to fall before sinking deep your fangs?

- Verses from the Flower Quarter by Unknown.

The Flower Quarter was a place where elegant hedonism intertwined seamlessly with jaded opulence and unvarnished seediness. We crossed a creaky wooden bridge over a moat filled with crystal-clear water that sparkled in the light of the dying sun. Dark purple flowers the size of dinner plates floated on the water’s surface, their heady fragrance an aromatic demarcation of the realm we were about to enter.

Here, nobles and wealthy merchants clad in fine silks mingled with ladies of a priced virtue, each playing their roles with only the thinnest veneer of decorum. Politeness and class masked an undercurrent of efficiency, a need to see to transient needs. It suited both that the business in question was seen to as soon as possible.

There was forced joy and desire painted in broad uneven strokes across the expression of the women here. Yet, for those who looked closely, the facade cracked. The slight tightness in the eyes of the women plying their trade on the streets, the sag of their shoulders, and the listlessness of their stances betrayed the harsh reality lurking beneath the surface. Courtesans a liar would call them, but I knew them for what they were, whores in all but name.

I saw a bawdy drunk emerge from one of the bordellos. He started singing tawdry songs with a ceramic pitcher in hand, crooning lovesongs to all that would listen. Despite being almost legless, he did not have a bad singing voice. He was soon politely escorted to the bridge by some gaggle of painted women, smiling all the while.

By the brisk trade that was going on here, the people in the Flower Quarter clearly enjoyed a heavy demand for their services. As we thrust deeper into the perfumed district I could sense, a different, more cloying note of something else in the air. Dust incense. It seemed that the merchants of the flesh here dealt with both pleasures real and imagined.

The worry on Larynda’s face grew, seemingly as the level of dress grew ever more scandalous. It could be a misjudgment on my part, but I felt that a few words were needed now, for encouragement if nothing else.

“You are holding out well. Have you been here many times before?” I asked, scanning the street ahead.

She glanced in my direction for a moment. “A few times. Had to deliver medicine sometimes for a few of the girls down here. Sometimes a few of the foreigners play rougher than they should,” she answered flatly.

I sensed there was another story there if I dug a bit. Shame I did not care one whit.

Putting on my best smile and wanting to stay on mission, I asked, “Are we getting close?”

“Yes. Over there, see that building? The one with all the over there by the pond with the fancy front and roof?” the half-elven girl pointed out, nodding in its direction. “That’s it. That’s the Snake’s Songbird.”

From where I stood, the building in question was quite the captivating sight.

Its roof, with gracefully upturned edges, seemed to float above the structure, supported by ornate pillars that were edged in gold and gleamed in the light. The tiles of the roof, shiny and shimmering, reflected the sunlight like a dark polished mirror.

Surrounding the building was a lush, manicured garden. A low fence surrounded this island of green and a serene pond mirrored the Snake’s Songbird’s elegance. Large, exotic flowers floated on the water’s surface, their bright, vibrant colors contrasting with the dark, smooth stones that edged the pond. Statues and sculptures, crafted with meticulous detail, stood as silent guardians, casting their shadows on the still water.

The front of the building was adorned with intricate carvings of slithering serpents and songbirds, chasing one another between the emerald canopy of a forgotten forest. The fine details of the highly stylized animals in particular drew the eye, even from this distance.

Tall, arched doorways framed the entrance, their curves softening the imposing facade and inviting visitors to explore further. Decorative patterns wound their way across the doors and windows, adding a layer of complexity and beauty to the Snake’s Songbird’s appearance.

Impressive for a whorehouse, I thought to myself crudely.

“Well, I guess I’ll be going in then. Unless you want to join me, of course?” I offered frankly.

Having the girl join me would be a double-edged sword. Yes, I could benefit from her own impressive magic. Also, having observed her interactions with others in the past, I posited that Larynda must enjoy a particularly high Charisma attribute. This might help me in keeping my promise to her.

However, at the same time, it would mean that I would not be able to use Frenzied Strikes. Nor would I be able to sate some of my more… well, base desires.

“You remember our promise, right?” she reminded, nagging like an old fish wife.

The spirits had informed the girl that the Bulls had been using the Snake’s Songbird as a front for their operations.

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I breathed deeply. “Yes, yes, I will try to warn the girls away. Do you think that I am some sort of monster who would attack defenseless women? However, I will not be responsible for their lives should they choose to ignore this warning.”

Larynda forced out a bright smile. “Guess I’ll be coming with you then to make sure they all understand, right?”

“Promise me one thing, though, in return. We must see this through, yes? No half measures,” I demanded.

Her eyes hardened as she nodded in agreement. “No half measures.”

We walked up to the entrance of the building and the lingering scent of perfumed jasmine greeted us. Seconds later we were met by a tiny woman who bade us enter with a demure yet knowing smile. From her stature, I guessed that she was one of these so-called Giants if I was not mistaken.

She was small, very small, and I could have mistaken her for a child were it not for the seriousness of her expression. The woman barely reached my hip, her medium-length hair spilling down in soft curls. The Giant wore a peach and red dress, its design reminiscent in style and cut of a Chinese Hanfu. The dress was a masterpiece. It was adorned with delicate floral patterns that seemed almost alive and tiny blossoms in shades of gold and white were embroidered across the fabric, their petals appearing to flutter in an unseen breeze. The sleeves billowed elegantly, their edges trimmed with fine lace, and the body was fitted with a subtle but elaborate pattern of vines and leaves. Every detail of the dress spoke of a master tailor’s touch. The long dress flowed gracefully down to the floor and gave her the appearance of a child princess.

The finely clad woman ushered us into a parlor, where we sat on plush, cushioned chairs. Serving girls entered, their garments simpler but no less finely cut, bringing plates laden with small delicacies. Wine was poured into tall fluted goblets, and I was almost tempted to take a sip.

“Can I get you any more refreshments in particular? This is the first time you have visited the Snake’s Songbird, yes?” she asked us in a friendly and polite tone, bowing slightly at the hip. The serving girls mirrored her bow before they left the room.

“And, you don’t need to worry about that,” the diminutive woman added, gesturing to our face coverings. “We value our guest’s privacy very highly.”

Remembering an encounter with a Giant from a time not so long ago, at least for me, I could not help but ask in sign. You speak? I questioned with my hands.

At first, she stiffened momentarily at such a direct question. A half-second later her smile widened a fraction and she answered me. “All of us can speak, good sir. It was just that many of the older generation never spoke to any of the lesser races. However, we live in more enlightened times these days,” the tiny woman boasted, a small hand running through the dark ringlets of her hair.

“I see,” I replied, not particularly impressed. A strange twinge of curiosity consumed me, forcing me to cast an Identify on her.

Niminia Sterios - Courtesan [Gnome lvl.10]

Health: 100/100

Stamina: 29/30

Mana: 15/15

A laugh almost took me then and there at the irony of it all. Who would have thought? Gnomes that thought themselves Giants! Also, who would lie with a Gnome? The logistics of such an operation eluded me until I thought about the more unsavory elements of this world.

Niminia’s eyes glanced for a moment in Larynda’s direction. “I see you have brought company with you…” she voiced, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air.

“I was told that this place caters to all desires of the flesh,” I bluffed. “Do you not have clients of both sexes here?”

“Well, yes, of course. We do see to all manners of tastes and preferences,” she replied smoothly. “Ahh, I will call some of the girls down. We do not have many of the City Guard come here. You must be an officer of some rank! The girls will love that. Still, you will need to leave your weapons here on the ground floor… those are the rules of the establishment,” she explained with a professional smile.

I looked around searching for potential guards, or hired muscle, but saw none. The establishment must rely almost exclusively on the name of the Bulls of Heaven for protection. Either that or this was a trap. Again, it did not matter to me either way.

“Thank you,” Larynda answered for me, smiling at the Gnome. “I will have some Lanelo juice if you have any. I do not drink so early in the evening.”

“But of course,” she responded, her tone courteous.

“Much obliged, Mistress Sterios,” I decided to tack on, enjoying the minor look of surprise on the Gnome's face.

Unperturbed, she clapped her hands, and a flock of girls in alluring attire, similar to Niminia’s dress but more scandalously cut, entered the parlor. The variety on display set a rush of fire to my loins and I was tempted to enjoy the amenities for perhaps an hour or two more. A truly wonderful display of feminine beauty in full bloom.

Surely, I could wait until Larynda got her Lanelo juice?

Niminia Sterios started to introduce the ladies one by one, but my mind could barely register their names as my eyes could not find a safe place to alight. All of them smiled at me, but my eyes continued to wander here and there. The male gaze is a fickle thing.

Eventually, it was a slim blonde woman’s turn. A touch too thin for my tastes, but she had a certain elegance to her. On some of the exposed skin of her shapely limbs elegant whorls and designs were on display, like fine henna art. But it was her eyes, and the flecks of gold that floated in the ink of them that truly arrested me.

I had to stop myself from blurting out her name like an idiot and merely nodded in appreciation as Niminia started to introduce the next girl.

My thoughts rushed about in a confused whirl. Elenora was here? Here of all places? I was almost tempted to use Identify to confirm the fact, but I pushed down that mindless urge. It would be an almost heinous waste of Mana when the fact of the matter was written plain before me. More to the point, where was Theo? Had she been among the initial first batch of serving girls?

I looked at Larynda, nodding at her before standing up. The Mage mirrored me half a moment later.

“Mistress Niminia Sterios,” I started with great seriousness, pronouncing each of the syllables of her name slowly. “You are the proprietress of this establishment?”

The tiny woman looked up at me and nodded slowly, her eyes widening with repressed worry.

“I have come with orders from the Council. You and your staff are to vacate these premises. Immediately. There will be no further warning given. The Bulls of Heaven are now the enemies of Al-Lazar,” I falsely claimed with as much gravitas as I could summon.