Chapter 2: Spectre
The bird seemed confused as F'rl waved his arms and shoo'ed Crow off the sill and out the window. Dismayed at apparently being chased off, the bird took flight and began circling around to land somewhere F'rl wouldn't object to but before he could complete that though F'rl was midair, right behind him! He took two lopeing strides towards the window and launched himself through the window like an arrow. As his toes cleared of the window and he began to feel the pull of gravity, F'rl released a controlled breath and muttered the words of a spell. The conjured energy wrapped his legs and torso in the form of a tight cyclone of highly pressurised air that he can use to soar at incredible speeds.
As the spell gripped his body, the stiff wind roiling over him sent an surprising jolt of pleasure though his groin as it blew against the quickly hardening bulge in his pants. F'rl momentarily worried that the spell could falter if he got too distracted by his arousal and the spell might drop him from the sky. Proper concentration is one of the first things most spellcasters learn and even highly trained Dannamore Invokheir falter from time-to-time but ever since escaping from 'the Pits' he seemed to have near-perfect focus when manipulating arcane energies. One of a few changes that he'd suffered after escaping back to the living world.
Gripped by the powerful wind that the spell harnessed, F'rl rocketed stright up with the full strength of his spell and Crow let our a sharp squawk of surprise as F'rl shot past him before taking firmer mental control of the spell holding him aloft and turned back towards his guide. They made a few relaxed loops over his apartment so Crow could gain some altitude and then F'rl fell into a flanking position behind the bird. Crow turned south, towards the center of the city, and F'rl hoped the evening light would last long enough to find what they were looking for.
The minutes passed as they flew with intent and the shadows cast by the setting suns began to stretch over the city. As the two suns' light coronas overlapped it cast the whole city in a murky indigo light intermittently broken by the warm glow of first streetlamps turning on for the night. From this height they were just little glowing orbs in a dim wash of steadily deepening shadows. Until Crow dropped altitude in what appeared to be preparation to arrive at their destination.
The bird suddenly let itself drop from the air, swooping towards a building that F'rl (and most other adult Etites) would easily recognize; Our Harpist's Cup, well known as the last 'respectable' business before one enters the 'red light' district of Etude. It had been years since F'rl had come to this section of the city and he noted some recent updates structural update to the tavern as well as the inn across the street. Clearly they decided to lean towards their reputation as the 'red light gatehouse' because they had built a second-storey walking path that passes over the street and connects the second floors of the two sister establishments, Our Harpist's Cup & Our Harpist's Rest and decorated the space beneath the aerial walk-way to look like a round arch, welcoming you to the possible carnal pleasures inside.
Crow spread his wings to slow his descent and sure-footedly landed on the lower eaves of the tavern, out of sight of anyone not looking for him but where he could watch the coming and going of patrons. It occurred to F'rl that this bird was behaving with much higher levels of awareness than a normal bird, not just in communication and expression but also in the way he seemed to have planned this all beforehand. F'rl considered staying above the revelry and observing from outside before stepping into something blindly. He began a mental inventory of the various spells and gadgets he had at his disposal but there were too many variables to be considered. There was no way of knowing why Crow had led him here, he concluded, so he would have a drink and find out.
Subtly landing in the darkened alley, F'rl emerged from the shadows casually adjusting his erection after releasing the binding air spell had kept him under pressure the entire flight from across the city. Somewhat sexual behaviour was extremely common here, after all it was now literally the 'gate to the red light district'! Adjusting his clothes and primping a little more than was necessary, F'rl took intentionally deliberate strides toward the entrance to let his body language communicate his intentions to enter the tavern to all the throngs of partiers standing around in small groups that all seemed strategically placed to be in his way.
"Damn it people, get a room or get a drink! I don't care which just get out of the street!"
While trying to avoid colliding with an especially drunk woman with one breast hanging out her blouse F'rl leaned back on one heel and pivoted to escape the impending torrent of vomit. As he took the final steps towards the entrance a very large hand clasped his should like a vice and stopped him. The bouncer, right. F'rl must have looked confused because a second hand took his other shoulder and rotated the mage towards the face that those hands belonged to.
"Sorry," the brilliant green eyes sought acknowledgment and once F'rl made eye-contact he continued, "I just need to let you know that that," the tanned elf glanced at F'rl's dannamore signet with significance, "won't work in here. You can keep it but it's just a regular ring once you cross the threshold." F'rl was surprised that a private institute could afford to ward entire buildings against Dannamore arcana. Even the government tried to stay on their good side and the Dannamore is a well respected establishment that provides valuable services to cities across the continent!As he lurched through the door all F'rl could think to say was, "We're not technically on Knock..." but once the raucous energy and thrumming noise hit his ears he was awed into a hushed reverense. The music was so loud it rattled his bones like thunder and on top of that dozens of people were all yelling to be heard in the huge barroom that stood between the entrance and the dancefloor.
"It's going to be a stressful evening." Muttering to himself, F'rl resumed his stride toward answers deeply aware that everything felt strange and the spectre of his missing lover loomed over the entire series of odd events and circumstance.
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