A sudden intimacy

After his job in Dalisay, Lucius moved towards a nearby town known as Lumina. Nestled at the edge of a vast forest and shadowed by towering mountains, Lumina was a place where the twilight lingered longer than usual, a sign that creatures of the night often roamed close. This town, although smaller, was bustling with its own secrets and stories, making it a perfect place for a sellsword like Lucius who thrived on such mysteries.

Lucius wielded a unique compass, a treasured artifact among sellswords. This compass, forged with ancient magic and intricate mechanics, did not point north but instead guided its bearer towards nearby creatures of the night. Its needle, crafted from a rare metal that reacted to the presence of these beings, quivered gently in Lucius's palm, indicating an unseen presence lurking nearby. This tool was not only his guide but also a symbol of his trade, leading him through the shadows to his next quarry.

With a pouch heavy with coins clinking at his side, a reward from his recent venture in Dalisay, Lucius felt a rare sense of satisfaction. He was keen on finding an inn where he could rest and indulge in the simple pleasure of a well-earned drink. The gold he earned was more than enough to afford him a few nights of comfort and the luxury of pondering over his next move in peace.

As he entered Lumina, the compass in his hand subtly shifted its direction, hinting at mysteries and dangers lurking within or near the town. Yet, for the moment, Lucius's immediate concern was to find a cozy inn. He looked forward to a quiet evening, where he could lay down his sword, albeit temporarily, and enjoy the mundane joys of a hearty meal and a glass of the finest ale, letting the night unfold in its own mysterious ways.

He found immediately a nearby inn inside the village and since he also tired he didnt even wasted time to choose another.

As Lucius stepped into the dimly lit inn of Lumina, the hushed murmurs of its patrons filled the air, their eyes darting towards the unmistakable silhouette of his sword. Such attention was neither new nor bothersome to him; it was the unspoken recognition of his profession, a silent acknowledgment of the line of work that had sculpted his life. With an air of nonchalance, he shrugged off the weight of their gazes along with his jacket, revealing a physique honed by countless battles and a peculiar tattoo—a lady with a knife poised at her own neck—etched into his skin, a mark that held stories untold.

The inn's atmosphere, thick with speculation and whispered theories about the newcomer, shifted subtly as an inn lady approached Lucius. Her gaze lingered not only on the testament of his physical strength but also on the enigmatic allure of his scarred yet handsome face. With a practiced smile, she offered him a drink, her intentions clear as she leaned closer, her voice laced with an unmistakable invitation. Her attempt at seduction was both bold and transparent, aiming to entice Lucius into spending more than just the evening in her company.

After sharing drinks and conversation at the inn, the atmosphere between Lucius and Yara grew increasingly charged with an unspoken anticipation. The lady, introducing herself as Yara, was clearly taken with Lucius, not just for his rugged, battle-scarred exterior and handsome face, but perhaps also for the aura of mystery that sellswords like him seemed to carry. The murmurs around them faded into the background as they focused on each other, their connection seeming to isolate them from the rest of the world.

Yara's interest in Lucius wasn't just superficial. She seemed genuinely intrigued by the man behind the sword, asking about the strange and haunting tattoo on his shoulder—a lady with a knife pointing at her own neck. Lucius, preferring to keep the true depth of its meaning to himself, brushed off her inquiries with a vague explanation about it being a sort of curse among sellswords. Yara, sensing his reluctance to delve deeper, chose not to press further, respecting the boundary he subtly set.

As the night wore on, bolstered by the alcohol and the warmth of their burgeoning connection, Yara suggested they rent a room and move upstairs to continue their evening away from prying eyes. Lucius, drawn in by Yara's beauty and the promise of a respite from his solitary life, agreed without hesitation. Their ascent to the rented room was a blur, a mix of anticipation and the dizzying effects of the alcohol.

Upon entering their rented room, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and the intoxicating effects of the alcohol. The room, dimly lit by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling, cast a warm glow over Yara's features, highlighting her striking figure and the allure in her eyes that promised an escape from the burdens that Lucius carried on his shoulders.

As they started kissing, there was an immediacy and urgency in their actions, a mutual understanding that for the moment, they could leave behind their respective worlds outside the door. Lucius, caught up in the moment, felt a rare sense of abandon, allowing himself to be drawn deeper into the intimacy of the encounter. The scars and stories etched into his skin momentarily faded into the background as he focused on the present, the warmth of Yara's touch, and the promise of temporary solace.

Yara, for her part, seemed equally captivated, her hands exploring Lucius's muscled shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoo with a curiosity that was tempered by the intensity of their interaction. The room around them seemed to shrink, focusing all attention on the connection being forged between two strangers seeking comfort in each other's presence.

As their kisses deepened, Lucius began to lose himself in the moment, the weight of his past and the constant vigilance against the night's creatures momentarily forgotten. The alcohol, the warmth of Yara's skin against his, and the softness of her hair between his fingers all served to draw him further away from the solitary path he walked as a sellsword.