Khy'eras

Deborah was well into her third cup of fine herbal tea when the soft knock came at her office door. The whisper of knuckle on wood would have drowned in the faint crackle of the fire she kept, had she been the mere human her guise implied. Instead, the Korcai only just managed to avoid an errant scratch of her pen on the report before her.

Sighing softly, she placed the pen down and pinched the bridge of her nose to douse any lingering annoyance at the interruption. Next, she gave the licking flames a wry grin; they did little to warm her magically supported corpus, but the warmth pleased her lover and the thought of that woman comfortable and delicious in her arms warmed her blood more than any flame ever could.

Finally, deciding the moment of silence was sufficient to preserve her all-important mystique, Deborah rose from her desk in a swish of skirt and made for the door. The heavy oak swung open a crack on oiled hinges to reveal a comely servingman standing stiffly with his hand poised for a second tentative knock. His gasp of surprise as he caught the golden gleam of Deborah's eyes made her magical pulse quicken in pleasure.

"It's rather late Kiran-" she purred as she opened the door enough to be fully visible. "-and I know you're not here for fun-" she finished, gently teasing him to complete the effect. Taking the moment of distraction while Kiran cleared his throat, Deborah worked to settle her nerves.

"Yes, Miss-" he began reflexively before immediately correcting himself, "Deborah." She gave him the barest of nods to continue, opening her lips a fraction in amusement. "Word came in the next order of Black Briar's is due tonight. The runner said it took a bit of a swim, but only one barrel was damaged." Kiran reported his message dutifully, trying his level best to not let his eyes roam across his boss’s porcelain skin, luscious lips, or scandalous neckline.

Deborah nodded more fully, clamping down on her rush of excitement at the coded message and sliding an arm beneath her chest to raise her breasts higher as she thought. "Thank you, Kiran. I'll be sure you're given an extra day for letting me know so promptly," she answered, her voice taking on the honeyed tones of satisfaction despite her efforts. "Now, unless there's something else?" she added, lifting a delicate hand to caress his cheek gently.

Kiran flushed crimson and leaned into the touch on instinct, his senses briefly overwhelmed by the Korcai's presence, before shaking his head. "Nothing else, night's been clear and clean," he said in a faint whisper. Deborah smirked, letting her tongue dart out to wet her lips as the man's neck opened before her. Then she gave his cheek a soft pat and stepped back, waving her fingers in amusement as she closed the door before his nose.

'Incoming people, Black Briar so at least a pair of families. One barrel in the drink, so an outsider who can vanish,' she thought to herself, decoding the message as she made her way to her desk and removed a small bit of scratch paper. She recorded a brief missive to her lover, indicating she would be out on business for dinner but would enjoy a bath when she returned.

She gave the parchment a quick kiss, leaving a faint print of lipstick in place of her signature, before setting it on the far corner of her desk. Lastly, she ensured that all the errant reports were covered and then she was off, making her way to her bedroom to collect a properly heavy evening cloak.

Noticing that Kiran had already returned to his duties, she mused about the young man, 'Good dexterity, quick-minded, adaptable, but he's clearly a touch weak-willed. Perhaps have him work with Robert and see if he shows any talents,' she made a mental note and then let the human fall from her thoughts. There was a hunt to enjoy.

She wrapped a suitable cloak around her shoulders, the sort that protected from the chill and rain as much as prying eyes once the hood was drawn, and moved towards the stairs. As she walked, the Korcai calmed her excitement, purging her features of anything but the expression of a woman about her usual droll business.

Wearing a look of faint boredom, Deborah strode into the dining area of the Velvet Goose. Her movements and face caught many glances, but at this late hour there were few that weren't regulars remaining in the place. She moved unerringly through the scattered furniture towards a particular table near the door. The heavily scarred wood of the table matched the hardened few who resided around it and any lingering eyes on Deborah quickly slid away as she spoke without preamble to the gathered few.

"Need two, going to collect some fish," she declared, her voice lilting and soft, as though there was nothing interesting about the task. There was a brief instant of tense silence before she let the faintest smile appear on her lips. "Hello, Rithgurd, who is this?" she asked as the smile became salacious.

Rithgurd, a mountain of a man with a shock of chestnut hair that rivaled the grand beard on his chin, let out a grunt and stood suddenly, clapping his hands to his companion. "Deb, you saucy wench, this is Yrvon and he's just finished his elevation," he declared in a whisper that might actually wake the dead. For his part, Yrvon rose and looked between Rithgurd and Deborah with a nervous half-grin.

"A pleasure to meet you," he offered, extending a hand calloused by intensive training. Deborah took it, giving it a brief shake before lifting it up to her face to examine intently.

"I see you've not neglected your studies, good. I appreciate a strong hand almost as much as a Bear's endurance. Perhaps you can regale me with your elevation in the morning?" Deborah offered with a wink before letting him go. Yrvon blushed despite his battle training and the Korcai's smile became a heady giggle.

Rithgurd let out his own knowing chuckle and turned to collect his gear from beside the table. "At your disposal, Miss Deborah," he said with a soft metallic thump of his gauntlet to his chestplate. Yrvon shook his head faintly and sprung into action as well, joining his mentor only a breath behind and delivering an equally solid salute.

Deborah gave them both an excessive examination, her shining eyes sweeping from head to toe. She made certain to let her focus linger unnecessarily long at several key points, as if drinking them in with a practiced eye, before motioning a hand towards the door. Without further ado, the two armored Bears tromped into the fog-laden night. Hardly a step behind, Deborah's cloak billowed with the speed of their travel.

The evening chill was brisk and biting, cutting through even heavy cloaks with the sting of ice adrift in scintillating clouds of fog that swirled like the tides along the cobbled streets. The trio of travelers hardly noticed, their speed and purpose keeping them warm as their heavy boots carried them from street to street without concern for such trivialities.

Their path wound and twisted, moving from main roads to alleyways and side streets with little regard for much beyond expediency. The Bears would move forward each time, ensuring the path was clear without breaking stride. Deborah appreciated their focus as it allowed her to let her inner thoughts wander to the coming excitement. Finally, they came out to a half-lit paved street designed for two wagons abreast. A few steps down the way and they arrived at a well-used warehouse in the south center of the Trade District.

The night watchman, a rail of a Kerasokan clad in simple leathers beneath his own heavy cloak, lifted his lantern as the group's loud footfalls slowed their approach. "Private property here, move along folks." he called out, the wariness in his words faint but plain to Deborah.

"Evening, Farimen." she offered, pulling her hood back enough to expose her face and let the lantern light shine off her eyes. "We're here to help bring in the latest order. How have your rounds been."

Farimen's lantern came just a touch higher and he visibly relaxed as recognition set in. "Miss Deborah, a pleasure to see you as always. Nothing but the usual, a few hoodlums lurking about looking to scavenge. Will you be needing the wagons tonight." he asked, giving the two private guards a nod in turn.

"I think we will manage just fine without, I imagine the shipment's rested on its laurels long enough after all." Deborah explained, speaking around their purpose in the usual way as she pulled her hood back into place. It was an affectation she'd been sure to reinforce despite the cold's minimal consequence to her comfort. Even the simplest motions allowed others to brush off incongruities in her usual behavior.

"Right then, I'll get the door unlocked and see you about. Let me know if you need anything, enjoy your evening." Farimen offered, setting off to do just as he'd described before returning to his usual calm and boring rounds.

Deborah turned to her companions and answered the unspoken question. "I'll be handling our outlier myself. None of the families are higher risk so simply take them to the Goose for a meal and a bed. Also, Yrvon, if there's any among them that seem like good candidates don't hesitate to chat. You can tell me about it when we speak in the morning."

Rithgurd gave a small shake of his head and clapped his younger companion on the shoulder. The movement shook Yrvon from his nerves and the younger Bear nodded before looking to his mentor for guidance about what they were actually to be doing. Before Rithgurd could explain, the whining creak of old metal came from the warehouse's side as a small door swung open.

Fairmen turned, giving them all a nod and then heading away. Past the door was a series of boxes and barrels spread across a dirt floor. All of them marked with the proper tax stamps and bound for various parts of the city, and they made a series of narrow paths between them.

Deborah paid the room little mind, trusting in her companions to see their task through, she strode into the warehouse without another word. Her well-oiled boots were near silent on the hard-packed dirt, even without the steady tromp of the armored men behind her. The Korcai shifted and dodged around the piled goods, the movements not dissimilar to a barmaid navigating unruly patrons.

Before long, she came to a crane system set in the floor with a cleared area around it. The platform held aloft by heavy duty ropes was large enough to support at least five adults if everyone was willing to stand closely. On it there were a pair of open crates, each empty and heavily worn. Deborah moved onto the platform and leaned against one of the crates, affecting a bored expression.

"Oh, you made it." she offered with a lazy wave to Yrvon when he arrived not a minute later. The young Bear nodded and gave her a smile before moving to the crane's controls.

"Commander said I'm to work the lift, do you need to bring anything down." he asked with the sure confidence of a man used to receiving and carrying out orders he was uncertain of.

Deborah gave him a brilliant smirk and wink. "Only for you to think of me for the rest of the night." she said breathily, before settling herself more into her impromptu seat. "But no, let me down and I'll make sure the first group gets on. There's the bell there." she pointed to a small enclosure set in the side of the crane's main support. "When it rings three times they're ready. Now send me below, Yrvon."