Post by hobbit on Jun 3, 2011 15:10:48 GMT -4
Weekends were not to be spent alone in one’s chamber, drinking ale and muttering crazily to one’s self. His father had managed to teach his son that much. A crazy grin crossed over the man’s face, You’d be proud of me, wouldn’t you? Always had your morals straight, Rashok thought jokingly to himself, before turning into a dark alley. The city itself was a rather dark place, bare and lacking the vigor Kiyer had, but there were at least some candles out to light the street. This alley, however, was dark- unless one was to carry a candle along with them. This was exactly what Rashok did.
Some men enjoyed simply taking a woman by the hand and whisking her away. They never knew what they got, and they said that was the most thrilling. Rashok, however, didn’t want some slut to pass on a disease. He didn’t want a random girl running her hands through his hair. He was an orderly man, and he had his favorites. With each step the man took down the alley, coins jingled in his trouser pocket. The grin had long since faded from the general’s face, leaving behind a stoic expression. He ignored the protests of woman as the light was shone in their faces; they wouldn’t dare to retaliate, not unless they wished to be marked, and no one liked a marked woman. The fairer they were, the easier it was to think that they were all new.
It did not take long for the light to show the face of a red haired woman, small in stature, at least compared to him. The man did not grin, nor did he stop before her. He simply moved to the door and entered the room, “C’mon. Unlike you, I don’t have all night,” he growled as he entered. His customary greeting.
Some men enjoyed simply taking a woman by the hand and whisking her away. They never knew what they got, and they said that was the most thrilling. Rashok, however, didn’t want some slut to pass on a disease. He didn’t want a random girl running her hands through his hair. He was an orderly man, and he had his favorites. With each step the man took down the alley, coins jingled in his trouser pocket. The grin had long since faded from the general’s face, leaving behind a stoic expression. He ignored the protests of woman as the light was shone in their faces; they wouldn’t dare to retaliate, not unless they wished to be marked, and no one liked a marked woman. The fairer they were, the easier it was to think that they were all new.
It did not take long for the light to show the face of a red haired woman, small in stature, at least compared to him. The man did not grin, nor did he stop before her. He simply moved to the door and entered the room, “C’mon. Unlike you, I don’t have all night,” he growled as he entered. His customary greeting.
