Sticky Fingers and Slippery Shadows (Kendecia X Eldarwen)

This tavern should be burned to ash and swept away by the eastern wind, Axel thought, the corners of his lips turned down as the particularly rancid greenish liquid fought its way over his tongue and down his throat. He'd sampled a round of each drink that was sold -- it wasn't wise, but he was impervious to tabooed mixes -- and not a single one was any better than regular ale.

"Such failure should be atoned for by way of rape," he muttered, slamming the mug onto the maple bar's surface. He was sure to hide his disgusted expression under the curtain of his dark hair as he pointed to the hat atop the bar beside the not-so-neatly arranged line of emptied mugs. "Alright, now. Give me my money."

There was the sound of upset grumbling and disbelieving murmurs around the tavern, the chime of coins landing atop one another serving to ease the gypsy's annoyance. Sadly, it did nothing to remove the putrid air of the alcoholic mixture from his tongue.

"You're a madman," the barkeep said, clearly thinking of Axel as someone wanting to die and just failing at it. He eyed the gypsy man warily, turning for a moment to place the glass on a shelf. "You should have brought the lot of it back up by now."

"What can I say?"" Axel said, looking up with a lopsided grin." I've got an iron gut." He took his hat and quickly put it on, none of the money falling out. It was a trick he had to learn quickly. The first time he tried, he'd failed and there was an all out brawl for the scattered coins. It was a wonder how far men would go for a bit of rounded pieces of metal.

Then again, he'd just murdered his taste buds for the sake of said pieces. Ah, the circular path of life.

With a grunt, Axel made slid off the bar stool and stood on surprisingly steady feet; his face was red like that of the most precious ruby and eyes as glassy as an opal. To many others, he was drunk as a skunk and an easy mark. Truth be told, he could not get drunk, no matter how hard he tried. He just got unnaturally warm after drinking so much.

However, no one needed to know that. It was one of his many trumps. After all, it got him quite a few damsels in his lifetime.

With a nod, he bade the barman farewell and stepped over the unconscious drunk who'd been his competition. The oaf had fallen out of it after only the ninth round.

Pathetic, he thought, taking a drink from the bottle he managed to swipe while the barkeep's back was turned. Anything to get the God-forsaken taste of bad rum out of his mouth.

"Ah!" Axel breathed in the aging night's air, grateful for the draft that his his shirtless body. He'd lost it after an ambush from a poor young lad who couldn't hold his liquor, nor his dinner. But it was just as well; Axel would have had to strip to escape the rising heat in his body. He sent a coy smile after a pair of street walking prostitutes who had stopped to stare. What was there to hide, really? He was gifted aesthetically and especially well endowed.

Not one complaint from any of his conquests of the night.

He watched them leave, a dark look settling over his features. He looked in the other direction at a manor in the distance; it was the reason he came to this town in the first place. The manor belonged to a noble of some sort. And where there was nobility, there was money.

And no one could have too much money.