Hale Cress

Merriment - Boralus Pt.1

Part 1

Below the horizon the sun yet hid, only just threatening to peak out by orange glow amidst the morning still within its twilight. The air, misty and dank clung to the space between the houses and the streets. Old bones of homes began to stir; groaning, creaking, with open windows and fires stoked and fed. With doors opening, letting free the people and their pets huddled within. Almost too soon the noises began to grow in volume with forges alight and bellowing, with the shanties of sailors and fisherman, the squawk of gulls.

Then, life truly at last for the day, signaled by the toll of bells and the light that drowned the sky in gold and orange at the edge and brightened the skies dark hues. Yet for all that light and liveliness there was yet the damaged and better left forgotten quarters of the city, where day was truly little different from night. As a mirror shattered and still used, they were a distorted reflection of the cities better parts. A multitude of tiny worlds on their own, without care for propriety or sense. 

And of course, it was in one such world at the end of a street where the road had become more mud than stone, riddled with piss and filth and beggars and more, that held at least some measure of importance. Better kept than most, the wooden beams holding up the wide two storied structure were only slightly rotted at the base, the red and green paint only just faded, the sign only just crooked as it hung from rusted chains.

Why did Hale always manage upon places such as this?

She stopped, looking up passed the beams and then down along the rotting portions of the wood. It wasn’t something she considered safe but alas, she was a woman who always lived on the edge of things. Where things oft went bump in the night were of a sickening temptation and comfort to her; the darkness always a friendly face.

The Priest had many nights several times over to have paid visits to several shops in Boralus and the outlying towns within the region. These days as of late family ties had brought her to these shores and even longer when the Crew of the Dreadful Howl were aiming to seek out a friend they had lost. The Howl had been anchored at the docks for nearly a week now though Hale never complained once. It was undergoing several repairs since their journey to the port had taken its toll on the old ship. If it was one thing time and weather had in common it was that they were both fickle bitches.

The tip of Hale’s tongue crossed over her canines and the hands in her pockets remained where she had set them for nearly a block back when she passed the Spyglass and Compass shop. Carefully she ascended the stairs to the lofty little building with the cracked paint, the sign just a breath away from completely falling had tapped against the side of the building when she opened the door to step in. Above all of the buildings and houses, this one she had not seen nor entered until now.

To call it a ‘shop’ was far too generous and more than a tad inaccurate. Behind the door as it opened at her touch was a plethora of sights to behold. None altogether pleasant for they of decent, morally sound, upbringing. 

Twas, it seemed, a Spyglass and Compass that made to lead those searching astray.

Where the air was at least cool without, the Compass’ interior was practically filled heavy smog; the doing of smoking pipes, cigars and countless other narcotics. Sickeningly sweet at times, eye watering and odious at others. Neither of which the patrons, peddlers, sailors, thieves and whores seemed bothered by as they moved from one crowded mass to the next in the stifling place. 

In a stumbling daze or with purpose, there was no lack of activity amidst tables and stalls that were situated in one corner or another, even clogging the passage up and down the stairs with still sleeping bodies.

If Hale had taken to wearing fashionable boots, looking at the floor might be the source of scowling, for the wooden boards were sodden with liquor and filth, the carpets frayed, abused and failing to lead anywhere coherently. The occasional leer was given, interest piqued, but not so much that any would go out of their way this early in the day when the working boys and girls were far more accessible. Unless her information was less than precise before, she need only deal with navigating the overstuffed throng and the errant handsy lad or lass before coming upon mark.

The Cress smoothed her thumb and index finger over one another in small circles, assessing those she passed and allowing the stout stench to linger at her form. Questions would likely be asked later though it was not beyond her to lie if she had to. Her leather boots were in a stark contrast with the floor separating wealth and luxury from the destitute and poachers. With a raised brow she happened to glance down and just barely miss stepping on a hand of one of the men sprawled along the bottom of the stairs. The every interior was a drunken wasteland though she didn’t expect much else as the exterior was a fair indication of what awaited inside.

She searched the faces of each she passed trying to remember the familiar from her past. It had been several years – people could age beyond recognition. Men were a little harder with their facial hair and sometimes their like-minded disposition. Nay, he wouldn’t have been the impoverished and to the point of finding himself at the bottom of the stairs, would he?

Negative. Men typically came to these places for one reason and one reason only and it was none much like her own reason for being in this neck of the woods. Hale’s hands dove into the pockets of her leather jacket as she quietly slipped past the stairs down a very narrow corridor until it lead into several separated back rooms. She remembered seeing things like these in many of the tavern dens she frequented back in Stormwind; generally places and rooms used for drug deals and more lucrative business meetings.

Dipping her head in, she inspected the first room only to find it empty and then slipping into the second. It was at this point she was hoping the tip-off didn’t send her astray. At the very least she could check the upper portions assuming one would take to a quick stick and dip before taking off. With dab of her tongue to the corner of her mouth, hale shoved the curtains of the second room aside and stepping in.

The curtain she pulled was a poor attempt to mimic extravagance, or an outright mockery in beaten velvet worn too thin on her arm and vermilion coloring. Whatever she hoped, the truth was either a feast on the eyes or a splash of cold water. Figurative of course, as it too stank of musk, sex, drugs and liquor.

Twas a room that echoed the disaster outside. Clothes had been haphazardly tossed about amidst a floor littered in pillows. The furniture a ramshackle chair and bed stand beside a dirty muck crusted window that barely allowed light to peak in. The light, whose main source came from a dying lantern attached to a hook upon the wall. It’s glow was enough to provide the silhouette of unclothed bodies strewn across a mattress flat upon the floor, sheets in disarray.    

Only the man sat upright with his back against the wall seemed awake, unless he had developed a skill to use a pipe whilst dead to the world. His hand was gently cupped around and beneath the bowl in support as smoke was loosed from the side of his mouth.

It took some time, but her intrusion was noted eventually by the slow cock and turn off his head. Despite the hair, damp and without luster sticking to brow and nape, and the feverish pallor to bronzed skin, there could be little to mistake no matter how bloodshot or smudged the Kohl of the golden hues that narrowed at her. 

A breath escaped, practically in a shudder as  after the last of the smoke had been exhaled and the dank air of the room taken he took her in after a handful of blinks.

“You,” Hakan began, voice husky, disapproving “are wearing much too much.”

Fucksakes it look like the bottom most part of the Howl on weeks it went without cleaning. Disgusted, Hale’s lips downturned and she looked at the bodies littered around. It didn’t take the smartest of scholars to understand the situation – or what might have been mere minutes or hours prior. Skyward her brow rose as she regarded the man – he was a goddamn blundered mess.

“Don’t let me interrupt. I can wait.” she spoke and she sidestepped a pile of clothes and a pillow as she leaned along the furthest wall keeping the upright man in view. Her hand twisted and rolled in his direction as she offered a grin, “I can see your business meeting was so eventful and thrilling that your guests have damn near excited themself to death.” she chuckled, highly amused. Gods damn, they had come a looooong way from Lordaeron hadn’t they?

Hakan’s brow furrowed, a quizzical expression setting in as the new woman talked, then proceeded to casually ignore what he’d said. Taking the pipe gently from his mouth which was left open to try and form words he couldn’t find, Hak then looked to the women beside him. In his daze, he only barely registered that maybe the enticingly leather clad arrival wasn’t the same as the other three. “Business meeting, biz-niz meet'n,” he murmured in repeat to himself, lower on the second night time. Then pointing the mouthpiece at Hale, he continued “We arrange something yester-week? Da-ay?” 

Wetting his lower lip, he pushed himself up higher to twist and turn, trying to reach for the lamp already low on oil to feed light into the room. In doing, he revealed form just as starkly naked; and one that any could tell, despite musculature that appeared finely chiseled, was unhealthy. Coated in a sheen of sweat, they were too pronounced. Once done, he looked back at her and raised his own brow. A thought struck him in his high, and he offered a sly curl of his lip.  
“Cause if it’s something yer wanting, I don’t give for free…”

A wet scoff escaped mouth and throat as Hakan caught a fistful of the garment before it hit his face. Even in his state, it wasn’t hard to do. Stepping over the mattress and the women upon it, more so. Empty bottles clinked and rolled across the floor as his stumbling feet moved and he searched for one not quite so empty. When he did, he bent over without shame to give her a glimpse of what couldn’t ever be called less than fine. The shirt hit his back and slid to the ground before he straightened up to take a swig and pad over to the curtain. Dipping outside for a look, he grumbled, because even threats were something he couldn’t brush off despite being off kilter.

Spying no one, he turned to stare and face her while maneuvering to stick one leg in each pant using only the one hand. Hakan’s pipe had found mouth once again and was held tight between teeth. Around it, he spoke to Hale “Women look pleased 'nough. Minus you. Them down below seemed pleased enough. Annoyed you come late, thinking me spent?”

Tipping his head back and hiking a brow, he stared down at her from all the inches he’d grown since last she saw him. It was always better to deflect when a smart woman came out of nowhere.

She watched him dress though it was more out of watching the only other waking and moving body in the room out of complete admiration – after all, there wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before or shockingly impressive. With her arms crossed she stood there, watching him take a peek outside the room, “It’s quite alright, the lot out there are practically dead but that’s not good news for you because it will make -you- all the more easy to find.”

A sharp inhale came through her teeth and she tipped her head to the side, “You’re about to be spent if you have some lumbering oafs smashing on your skull. I trailed them for a bit until they got caught up near the Mariner’s docks.” there was a pause and she furrowed her brow, looking up at him when he was damn near appraising her.

“You’ve changed.” she muttered and she perked up the moment she felt Creature’s long and cold fingers clasp along her shoulder, his hisses of whispered words coiled within her ear, “Suppose you don’t have much time now.” she warned and she looked back to the curtains where the entrance wasn’t too far off, “You have weapons, right?”

Changed? Yet more to leave him out of sorts as he tucked himself away, wondering just who she was. “Well aye, ah’ve put on pants…” Brow knitting, he looked down at himself and the worn cloth that hung loosely and just barely from his hips. “Though I’ve no idea why,” he finished after a pause, frowning. There was a niggling feeling he couldn’t quite place as he looked at Hale, though well it could have just been lust or the drugs or the liquor in his system that made everything half pleasant and tingly, even all and more. The bottle sloshed as he lifted it up for another swallow, Amber contents matching the hue of his eyes as it caught the light. When finished, he let it fall back to his side, held by the neck and tried to concentrate less on Hale’s assets and more on her presence. Padding towards her on bare feet, he stopped only when he was exactly before her. Closer, she might just make out the scars across his form and the tattoos in the dim light. The starkest of which against his dark complexion was a ragged cut along one half of neck and throat.

“There’s never any time, luv,” he casually explained to her in an almost musical quality. “But I make do.”

Thrusting the bottle at her chest, he gave waggish smile and went back over towards the bed. A string of soft ‘pardon me’s and ‘good morning’s and ‘hello beautiful’s fled his lips as he bent over to expose yet more on his back, while he collected a few hidden things from a pile at the head of the bed where he once occupied. A scarf to wind around neck with ends dangling over bare torso along with necklaces, a leather bracer for one wrist, and rings for many of his fingers. But no weapon.

Hale sighed as she took note of his demeanor and half-clothed self; of course in that moment she couldn’t help but notice the scars. Some uncovered, some having an attempt at trying to erase the past. Her eyes softened a moment as she considered the reasons why someone would have such things – but now was not the time. His very presence was damn near provoking and it took everything in her not ball up a fist and to give it to him hoping it would set him straight.

“Idiot…”she seethed and she lobbed the bottle towards the bed – which thankfully – missed a head or two and found its place in the sheets.

Two loud bangs came from the front door and Hale’s verdant eyes snapped to Hakan, “Really?!” she spat out in a hushed tone, “Fucksakes it’s like babysitting.” she grumbled and making her way through the bodies and even making a motion to kick a hand from her path as she scooted to Hakan, “Is there a window? The stairs out of here is narrow and I was really hoping we would have been out of here before the bastards found their way. The door was locked upon my arrival but by the looks of this shoddy hole it’s not going to last much longer.” 

To be continued…