Wonderland [Private - Hazudar]

[Albossk]

A moment of respite, the human caught his brief as long dead shards of snow fell from the treetops. Vlad paused, a lond, wirey limb scratching at the back of his head as he peered idley down at a precariously positioned map. Unable to figure out why it wasn't working right, Vlad suddenly came to a moment of eerie revelation when he figured out that, in fact, the map had been upside down the entire time. Flipping it around, he grinned idley, bare shoulders slightly chilly under the pressing cold of the late winter. Spring was on its way, but that didn't mean that the winter chill didn't still hang in the air.

What it did mean, however, was that the hot springs he'd been hearing so much about were in prime condition for use. Around the sleepy little town known as Frigid River, there was apparently a mirth of volcanic activity, which gave inevitable rise to the growth of hot springs. Though there were some obviously common ones, the old man he'd met at the coffee shop had mentioned something interesting. Private spas. Just the name was enough to send shivers up and down his spine. The way the old man had described it, these private, secluded areas were awash with beauties of all races. Humans, elves, nymphs, dracons, kattas, dracons and dragons! Hell, why not? The human had endured far more farfetched stories in his time, and a good thre fourths of them had turned out to be true.

Longsword slung over his back (he rarely let that silly thing out of his sight) and coat at home (like the silly little thief he was), the human clad himself in that old black halter top and leather pants, the one outfit that drove the ladies nuts. His hat, well, his hat had been abandoned for the time being, simply because...well, the truth was that he'd forgotten it somewhere along the way, but a well placed lie would screw any ideas of the human's negligence. The ladies loved a man who cared.

Emerald hair swaying gently as he went, the human marched casually along the path out of town, not looking at all the part he played. Graceful, pretty and wise...the human was nothing more than a simple lecher, out for some inspiration for his new book. Those hot springs had to be somewhere around, he knew, and Vlad was damn well long overdue for a bit of action himself. Faeries, nymphs, dragons or otherwise. They were all the same with the lights out. Or underwater as the case may be.

[Hazudar]

Ah, the joy of spring. A season of greenery and growth; time for Carmelya to reach down and stroke to life the fertile lands of Telath! And indeed, our green-haired hero might feel a bit of 'growth' arising at the mere thought of the voluptuous, fertile forms he'd soon be stroking to. Or at least ogling. Nothing like a nice, scenic ogle on a fine spring day, eh? And fine it was, as fine as the women Vlad would soon be drawing upon for... inspiration. 'Drawing' being the key word there, perhaps--but to the point, it was definitely a good day to spy. Overhead, birds were chirping amidst the budding spindly branches, while a few hopeful shoots of green could be seen struggling up through the icy thaw underfoot, poking carelessly about much like Vlad's own unkempt locks.

Yes, springtime was here, and magic was in the air... maybe not as potent as the mystical mind-melting magic in a Versian cigar, it was more akin to the air of the shrub-filled Sherian city itself. Thick with the scent of life in bloom, though the breeze was crisper and the air cooler out here in the hinterlands. Thankfully, the barbari's longcoat protected him from the worst of the chill, which could well have shrivelled his gi-normous plans. That wasn't to say his OTHER extremities weren't suffering from the mild cold, but it was nothing a bit of friction couldn't cure. Rubbing his... hands together made for a decent remedy, though probably not the most enjoyable to come to ol' Vladimir's resourceful mind.

Nevertheless it was of some comfort to the arctic exxxplorer as he picked his way through the woods, spring-softened snow crunching merrily beneath his gait. Of perhaps even greater comfort was the promise of a piping hot sauna somewhere ahead. A long, hot soak would feel pretty good right about now. Doubtless it'd feel even better after spending a few hours hunkered down in the bushes. The uh, brushwood, that is. Yeah, there was definitely an appeal in these hot springs, and it went beyond wet, nude, sexually appealing ladies. These were places of soothing calm, rest and relaxation; where people would be that much more inclined to drop their guards along with their garments. Fwahaha... it would make Voyeur Valentine's job all the easier.

That is, if he could ever find any of the damned places. Mere wandering around had its ups and downs (and lefts and rights and arounds and getting the **** losts) but if this polar peeping tom wanted to sight his quarry anytime soon, he'd do better to have some sort of plan. Perhaps it was time to sit down and take a second look at that... wait... there! In the trees just ahead--a clearing! And, visible even from a distance against the dark branches of the nearest trees, were the telltale trails of steam rising and dissipating into the clear Lauryllian air! Could this be what the barbari was looking for?

The answer came to Vlad like a virgin's desperate pleas: a mixed yes and no. For even as the sordid sightseer drew near he could see that this wasn't quite the 'private spa' he envisioned. Oh, sure, there were privates about, but not enough in quality or quantity to justify any semblance of actual privacy. It was only a gaggle of elves, giggling and tittering in their incomprehensible tongue as they soaked in their little spring. Typically beautiful, delicate and slender... a bit too slender for human tastes, but more importantly, all the tasty bits were concealed beneath the frothing water and the long elven tresses fanning about its surface. Not exactly paydirt, but it was something.

All around the spring, the snow had melted or evaporated, revealing the rim of a smooth basin of grayish-white stone. Manmade, from the looks of it; but the construction was rough, unpolished and untiled, without so much as a carving or engraving visible anywhere upon its surface. No contractor had built this basin, or if they had, it'd been ages ago. This was a public spring, and judging from the persistant chatter of its occupants, they were just a gaggle of local dames out for a bathe. A few of what looked to be full-length dresses of some thick material hung from the lower branches of a tree to one side of the spring, and their colors were native to Frigid River.

Obviously, this wasn't the private peepshow paradise that Vlad had been searching for. Still, they had no idea he was there (stealthy bastard that he was), a few paces away from the edge of the clearing and incidentally, the tree upon which the heavy, near-formless winter dresses had been hung. Doubtful they'd have anything of value on them, though. Not to say that there was nothing to be gained from the situation... directions, perhaps? As the perfidious would-be pornographer well knew, with charm and a bit of wit, anything and anyone could be exploited.

[Albossk]

ooc: he's actually -not- wearing that dirty old longcoat for once. It says somewhere up there, but he's wearing a kind of black halter-top.

IC:

A lamentable sigh escaped the thief's lips as he found himself amongst the scrawny, weatherworn populace. What had he here that he could not have found in a brothel back in Alyxandrya? As long ago as that had been, the teeming city still stood fresh in his mind. All the people, all the culture, all the crime. Why, it had been quite the place. Back then, he hadn't been quite as interested in crime, which was really too bad. The Gut was a place to behold, indeed. Albeit a narrow, smelly and dangerous place to behold, a place to behold nonetheless.

Unlike your average elf. It was too bad the creatures weren't built more amply, after all, he was totally into the pointy ears thing. Perhaps that had been partially the cause of his attraction to that horrible wench of a woman, Cassidy Al'lende. Figuring it best to focus on the elves at hand, however, Vlad peered covertly through mixed foilage. It occurred to him that, this being a public spa, there really was no need for the theatrics. But that was just how he was, one supposed. A sneaky, weird little guy.

Leaning against a brach, he stood not five paces from the edge of the clearing, grinning gently, prettily. Far prettier than any human should ever be able to smile. Stepping through the clearing, out into the light of the spa area, Vladamir crossed his arms as he stood, overlooking the bevy of obviously exhausted women, playing together like...well...like good women ought to play together. Definitely not with legos.

"Vedui, mademoiselles. Vous sont comment les dames faisant? Je suis très perdu. Peux-je dormir avec vous?"* he said in somewhat shaky Jaedaxienne, his memory more serving towards the romantic, charming and lusty sounding side of the language than the actual correct usage of the language and verb conjugations and whatnot. Besides, what did a couple of Frigid Rivian elven housewives know? They couldn't tell the difference, very few ever could. Even still, the ladies went mad for it, swooning almost. He continued, "ah, excuse me. I am...a bit lost, miladies. I do not suppose you...fine ladies...could tell me where I am?"

Jaedaxienne, for a versed actor, was remarkably easy to feign. Apparently speaking with the end of your tongue was in style these days. Either that, or women were just as gullible as ever, fully prepared to eat up any old romantic notion that came along.




* - hello girls. how are you ladies doing? I am very lost. May I sleep with you?