“If there’s anything you require my Lord?” The white robed servant intoned robotically, his dull green eyes completely lifeless, to the extent Tayne began to watch the man’s chest to check he was actually a living being and not some sort of living dead. The way he saw it, the living breathed. The dead didn’t. Simple.
“Nah you’re alright mate-” Tayne cursed internally as he cut himself off. “I mean, nothing is required.” He spoke again, this time with the hideous fake tone. The dead but alive man didn’t even blink at the odd swap in tones. He just merely nodded, sighed, then sturned slowly and left the room, the door closed softly behind him. Tayne shrugged as he turned to survey his new lodgings. Then froze.
The room was like nothing he had ever seen before, every surface polished until it shone as if backed by its own light, the furniture gilded with gold and studded with priceless gems, even the curtains were woven from the finest silk; a fabric so soft, it flowed like water to the touch. And the bed. Oh the bed… A giant white mattress sprawled across an equally huge four poster frame; the posts at each corner rose up towards the vaulted ceiling with a gauzy blue canopy draped over the top to create a majestic little tent, the entrance to the realm of dreams. Tayne shivered as he inspected the thick mattress; big enough for him to lie flat in any direction without his feet coming anywhere near the edge.
With a sigh, he stood and turned, his back towards the bed as he faced the door. A childish smile stretched his lips to show two rows of surprisingly neat, white teeth. As Tayne closed his eyes, he let himself fall backwards. Thumpffffffff….. The mattress hissed softly as the air was displaced by the drunk’s mass to escape through the miniscule holes of the fabric that contained it. Tay’s body began to sink slowly as the mattress compacted, until the feathers within cushioned his entire body like an all-enveloping hug from a cloud. Again the grubby man sighed. Always wanted to do that. He thought to himself, the blissful smile still played across his face. Ain’t as much fun, droppin into a dirty gutter. That’s for sure.
Knock Knock. Panicked, Tayne shot to his feet, suddenly guilty for no reason; as if he knew he shouldn’t be where he was and he’d been caught. Calm it, you was invited. act normal.
“Hello?” He called with a cringe. Damn that stupid accent. The door opened with a soft click, another servant revealed in its wake as the well-oiled slab of wood swung clear.
“My Lord, A gift from lord Thorne.” A young looking Sulpian shuffled awkwardly into the room with a stumble as his white robes twisted around his legs precariously. Balance regained, the boy glanced at Tay shyly. Tayne returned the glance with as reassuring a smile as he could muster. Immediately, the boy’s face shed its mask of worry, an impish smile left behind in its place. Confidence regained, the lad strode towards the bed with a wrapped bundle in his arms. “My Lord!” Gasped the boy in shock as he stared at a human shaped smudge of filth left in the imprint of the mattress where Tayne had lain moments ago. “My apologies my Lord! I’ll fetch a cleaner at once!” Tay’s face had begun to redden in embarrassment as he watched the boy drop his burden on the carved wooden writing desk to the side of the room before he turned and raced back towards the door.
“Boy.” Called Tay, his eyes on the floor, unable to even meet the servants gaze.
“How would one go about finding a bath?” Tayne let his gaze meet that of the servant’s, a sheepish grin spread across his own lips as he watched the realisation click on the teen’s face.
“I… uh.” The lad paused as he obviously struggled against the laugh that so desperately wished to break free. “I’ll send…” Then he snapped. Gales of laughter left his lips in a torrent, his chest heaved as he wiped his eyes as tears of humour dripped down his cheeks to the floor. Tayne himself at a loss for words, he himself of course not truly of noble descent, so therefore he was fairly used to the servant class having a good old laugh at him. But, in the same vein, as far as this kid knew, he was a Lord. The disrespect was blatant. A conundrum.
“Ahem.” Tayne made a split second decision as he cleared his throat. The laughter stopped immediately. “I am Lord Tay, Warrior Monk of the Dagonion Brotherhood. Perhaps you forget yourself servant.” The posh tone blended with his own, to make a surprisingly authoritive accent.
“My Lord!” The boy dropped to his knees, his forehead pressed to the cold marble floor as he grovelled at Tay’s feet. “My sincerest apologies, S’nerves you see?” the servants own upper class accent slipped as fear took hold, his head raised with eyes wide as he pleaded with the supposed Lord before him. “Always ‘ad the problem, ain’t no good with stress m’Lord. Lord Thorne saids you was a Fighter Monk, got me on edge is’all. meant no harm M’Lord, I swears it!” The boy coughed and took a moment to visually compose himself. “I swear my Lord, I meant no offence.” The accent back.
Tayne pretended to consider the young man’s words as he glared balefully at his prostrate from before him.
“Get up.” He growled. The lad shot to his feet, eyes fixed to the floor. “What is your name?”
“Sand My Lord.”
“Yes my Lord.”
“As in… Sand?” Tayne indicated out of the nearby window at the orange hued desert beyond.
“Yes my Lord… I-” The lad cut off as he began to elaborate.
“Go on.” Tayne prompted.
“I was found out in the desert as a baby My Lord, abandoned. They say I’m a miracle of the sand. The name stuck.” The Kid shrugged. Tayne’s eyebrows rose as in appreciation of the tale.
“About that bath?”
“I’ll fetch someone to bring you up a tub my Lord, right away.”
“Thank you Sand.” Tayne half smiled as he nodded. Again, immediately the boy’s faced lit up as he realised he was off the hook. The boy bowed deeply, far deeper than was required, as he backed out of the room.
“Thank you M’Lor- I mean My Lord!” He called as he hurriedly closed the door behind him. With a chuckle, Tayne turned back towards the inside of the room. What to do? Well he couldn’t really sit down, not after the previous situation. So what to d-
Knock Knock. What the hell now? Tayne puffed as he strode towards the door, his hand grasped the handle roughly, with a yank the door tore forwards.
“Wha-” The words died on his lips to leave his jaw hung agape as he stared into the eyes of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Long raven black hair hung down luxuriously past her waist, a midnight blue silky dress clung to her copious curves, the thin material left very little to the imagination. Painted red lips open in a seductive smile below hazel coloured eyes, darkened with makeup.
“Lord Tay?” She breathed, her voice low and husky.
“S’me.” His mouth responded without thought, so transfixed was he to this new arrival. She giggled prettily as she took in the effect she had on the man, then without a word, strode past into his room.
“I, am Dianna.” She spoke as she walked, faced forward as if she already knew he would tail her like a love sick puppy. She was right. Tayne’s eyes were locked to the woman’s behind as her full buttox rose and fell with a sexual sway with each step. On she continued, up to the great doors to the side of the room, only a slight pause as she opened them, then continued onwards to the balcony. Here she paused and turned, leant at ease against the balcony rail, her smile still fixed in place.
Tayne found himself suddenly next to her, as if by magic. Her allure so strong, he hadn’t even realised he had moved. The fragrance she wore tickled his nostrils, a strong, sweet smelling perfume… something like roses with a hint of ripe strawberries.
“Lord Tay?” by Tarran, that voice. Each word felt like it caressed his ears in the most sexual fashion possible. Tayne sniffed as his nose began to run. That damned perfume. “Cat got your tongue Lord Tay?” She purred, as she spoke her posture leaned further forwards towards him, her ample bosom exposed drastically by the sudden change in vantage. Tayne knew he should reply, but the words just wouldn’t form.
“Buh-….” He managed.
“Buh?” She giggled again; the noise was like tiny silver bells as they tinkled in a gentle breeze.
“Buh… B-Boobs.” He stammered. What the hell? The crude admission shocked the man back into being in control of himself, his eyes wide with horror at what he had just said.
“Atchoo!” Tayne sneezed a devastating sneeze, one of those with enough force to be akin to nothing but a force of nature. Diana shrieked as snot and mucus covered her face and chest with a wet “Smack” as the individual globs found purchase. Tayne, in a panic reached forward to wipe away the disgusting bodily fluids he had just covered her in, just as another sneeze ripped apart his nostrils in another gale force explosion. The sneeze caused his entire body to lurch forward aggressively, his extended hand thumped straight into Dianna’s left breast with so much force, her entire body began to move backwards.
“Sorr- Atchoo!” That damn perfume! A third sneeze sprung from nowhere to obscure his vision, his eyes clamped tightly shut. What the hell was that? Tayne could have sworn he had heard a scream of sorts? Slowly, the man opened his eyes. Dianna was gone. No… no, no, no, no. Tay rushed to the balcony rail, almost all the way over as his momentum barely left him enough time to stop as he leaned over to peer to the ground. No, no, no, no, no. There, four floors down and surrounded by a pool of cherry red blood, was a very, very dead Dianna.