A hand slowly pressed against the door, pushing it open. The hope was not to draw too much attention to oneself. All of his belongings were hidden on the man who had pushed the door open and had been standing in the door way. In fact most of the man was hidden. Wearing a robe with a hood that was up, the only thing one may be able to see was the clean shaven chin of a young man. It was a pretty prominent chin. Glancing around as he began to take a couple more steps into The Winking Mermaid, the man noticed that it was mostly full of sailors. He wasn't a sailor. He supposed with a name like "The Winking Mermaid" he should have expected it.

He slowly brought his hands up to his head and pulled the hood down, revealing a human face with light brown hair on top of the head. A small cow lick on the right side had parts of his hair sticking up. As he took more steps towards the bar, he glanced over with a pair of green eyes at a couple of sailors testing their strength in an arm wrestling match. It kind of made him smile. Not a lot made him smile. It had been 8 years since the incident happened. The one who could never forget, but never tell. Taking a seat on a stool, he let out a sigh waiting for the barmaid behind the bar to acknowledge him. As he did this, he couldn't help but notice how clean the place was. Not what he expected at all for a tavern for sailors.

It had been a long time, centuries even, since the last time he set foot in the kingdom he once was a member. And how long had it been since he entered a place like this? If it had been his past self, simply setting foot in a tavern was an open invitation to begin a bloodbath with all the unsuspecting folk sitting around baring their necks while rendering themselves vulnerable. Strong drink made mortal men lower their guard and their awareness, dulled their reflexes and senses. It was a perfect place to have a drink, in more ways than one. But instead of bleeding dry everything in sight with a heartbeat, his thirst had been culled for a great while now. However, he was able to walk without fear in the daylight hours. Such was the curse of the Overseer of Luck and Misfortune; a double-edged sword.

His appearance and air set him apart from the common blood seated at the tables, drinking away their sensibility. Sylvain himself wasn't particularly happy being here either. The deity he was bound to had sent him on what could best be described as an errand, an inconsequential request which if left incomplete bore no significant consequences whatsoever. It wouldn't matter if he refused to carry the exchange out, if he had a choice to begin with. She had insisted he personally hand a sealed parcel to a specific recipient who would come meet him in this very tavern. Once they made the rendezvous, he would give them the package while they would give him the information on the latest changes in the sailing schedules of merchants coming from the east. Vilpamolan's overall lawlessness and disorder had flared up as of late and that had disrupted trading across the Nyella ocean. Seating himself at a table by the corner, he waited for the informant to show. 

He had been sitting there for maybe two minutes before the barmaid approached him and asked him what he would be having. He calmly asked for whatever the special was, not really caring. All this strange man knew is that he needed a drink. It was clear he didn't look like a sailor. However he certainly smelled a little like one. After all it was how he managed to get here in the first place. The young man smiled at the barmaid when she set his drink down in front of him. Slowly sliding over some silver she took it and put it in a tin. Then she had asked a question, a question he knew he better get used to answering. "You don't look like you're from around here, especially here here. What brings you to The Winking Mermaid?"

Calmly he studied the barmaid with his green eyes and smiled as politely as he could. "Distance." That was all he could bring himself to say. For the last eight years he had been a man of few words when it came to speaking to others. He stayed out of more trouble that way. He had a name, but he wasn't even sure if he remembered how to say it. He tried not to introduce himself to many people, especially if someone recognized his last name. He had gone far enough away however that he was almost certain that no one would recognize him, his name or even the Kingdom of which he came from. It was far from this land. With no intentions of returning to said land, he was comfortable with being who he was now. A nobody.

However as the barmaid was giving him and odd look, almost as if she wanted to know more, he felt something in the air that wasn't there before. It was hard to describe but it instantly made him turn around and look. Spotting a man who didn't look like a Sailor either, it had intrigued him. Alright Kaleb, don't look too long and draw attention to yourself, he thought to himself and turned back to his drink. Grabbing it, he wrapped his fingers around the glass and took a drink. Making a slight face, not used to whatever the hell is was that she poured into that glass, he tried to fight back coughing and shook his head some. Setting the drink down, Kaleb again glanced around to look for the man who had entered The Winking Mermaid. All he could wonder is who the hell was this man and why did he care who he was.

It was the barmaid's turn to visit his table. "What can I get you?" She asked. A typical routine question, but he had to keep up appearances. Giving a smile with a closed mouth, he answered: "A cup of chilled wine, red if you have any." It was the closest thing to blood aside from a Bloody Mary, but he wasn't particularly interested in having a drink anyway. Though he kept a pleasant smile on his face, he couldn't be any more irritated. The informant had better come soon, or he would have to find better ways to sate his appetite. In a past life, he would have never even thought of setting foot in a tavern–let alone partake in what one had to offer. But that was done and buried, just like his more recent past too. The woman returned with his drink and he paid her, slipping in a few extra coins while whispering they were hers if she didn't mind giving him some privacy. A subtle way of hinting he wanted to be left alone.

He took a sip from the cup, after swirling the burgundy liquid inside a few times. The taste was balanced, but plain. He didn't expect a place like this to have exquisite stock in specialty wines. Cheap drink for those who had little coin, wanting something that put them in a haze more than taking the time to savor what they swallowed. It was only marginally better than water. The alcohol didn't do much to dull his senses, perhaps muting the smell of sweat and liquor a touch. He was in no hurry to finish what he had in front of him, provided who he was waiting for came on time. He was a patient man, but he was no saint.

A while after, a new entrant to the Winking Mermaid came in. It was a man with a young face and brown hair, tied back loosely with side locks hanging over his ears. A few thin hairline scars were visible from his left side, and he took a seat at the same table as Sylvain. Glancing from his cup, the man pulled out a folded parchment and pushed it across the table. "Are you looking for the night raven which flies by noon?" The vampire asked the half-elf. "Only to see if it meets the starling." Came the reply. That answer satisfied him, and he took the parchment after having a glance at the contents. "Is this all of it?" He inquired. "Yes, up until next month. If things settle down, then this will be bound to change again." The half-elf man responded back. With the exchange complete, the man wrote a signature on the slip of paper before leaving the tavern. With his business complete, Sylvain himself was ready to leave.

It was then that a few of the prior customers began getting into a heated squabble. Tensions rose quickly, and soon there was the shatter of broken glass. One of the men had broken an ale bottle, and there was a small gash on the other's arm. Though it was small trickle of blood, Sylvain could smell it from where he was. Having been limited in his blood intake for so long, the scent of fresh blood was pulling at him like a woman charming away her lover. 

He had been taking drinks for some time slowly, trying to get over the taste of whatever was in this drink. He assumed some type of mead. Maybe even an ale. Occasionally he would glance back toward the gentleman who had come in earlier. He had noticed the other man sitting at the table with him once he had looked back. This was an exchange that did cause Kaleb's green eyes to stay focused on. The man hadn't been there long though, and when he was gone, Kaleb's interest had died down. Turning back to his glass and the bar, he took a drink. A bigger drink this time that had almost finished it.

As he was placing the glass back down onto the bar, a sound of shattered glass had rang in his ears and it almost instantly made him turn towards the direction it came. A glare almost coming from his eyes. He wanted to jump up and get involved. He felt the need to get up and put an end to it, diplomatically or physically. Well, maybe not physically. In fact the odds were that there would be a burst of flames or a rather bright flash as if the sun itself had been in the room. The thought of getting physically involved even made Kaleb smile a little. However he shook the thoughts away and simply decided to spin around enough on the stool to face the direction of the squabble. Propping his elbows up on the bar behind him, an almost smirk appeared on the young humans face. For a second since the strange man had walked into the Winking Mermaid, Kaleb had forgot he was there. 

It was none of his concern. He should just leave and go about his business. What did the lives of those lesser than him mean to someone such as himself? But the call of blood was strong. He lingered for a moment before remembering the curse forced upon him. It would be best if he left immediately before she knew. With the sweep of a cloak, he would soon be at the tavern's door. Then, it happened. "Oy, what'd you say?!" The voice of a loutish man hollered. "Hah, I said you don't have the brass to even land a hit!" Spat a grizzled man with a long scar running down the side of his face. Both of them were doddering drunk, and then the first man took a swing–only for his makeshift club of a broken bottle to slip out from his fingers and fly across the room. The already broken glass bottle smashed against the back of the lord's head and rained down in shards onto the floor.

A deathly silence came over the entire tavern as the two men saw where that missed hit went, and the fear sobered them up just enough to let their self-preservation instincts come into play. The vampire lord paused for a long time, then reached behind his head where the jagged bottle had broken. There was some minor bleeding, but nothing that wouldn't heal quickly. However they had just broken the last straw. Turning around, he slowly walked towards the two drunkards, boots crunching as they stepped through the glass fragments. Looming over them both, he grabbed the nearest one by the collar and lifted him up so they were eye to eye. "I beg your pardon, but what business do you have with me?" Beneath his polite speech was a thinly veiled threat, one that didn't require a show of his fangs to be understood. The man hoisted in the air went dumb from shock, and the second was trying to sidle out when Sylvain glowered down at him.

To some degree it all was a little amusing, even border line entertaining. Watching two men fight over only Gods know what. A calm demeanor was well rested over Kaleb as he watched the exchange. Then they got loud, and the fighting ensued. It didn't take long before the weapon of one smashed against the man that Kaleb was intrigued by earlier. An unsettling feeling came over him as he could tell that perhaps this man wasn't the type you normally would mess with. As he watched this man slowly retaliate, he felt the sudden need to abandon his nature of staying out of trouble. There was a reason he barely spoke. There was a reason he barely intervened in things. There was a reason that Kaleb Silverbane LeBorn ignored the cries of help unless forcefully pushed into the situation.

Maybe it was a survival instinct thing. His green eyes looked towards each and every sailor and other patron in the Winking Mermaid and seen they were all on edge. This was about to explode into a brawl. He began to take steps towards the two men who were now being confronted by the mysterious one. The one who now had one hoisted in the air. The strength alone was astonishing to him. He was trying to watch himself hoping not to step on any toes metaphorically or physically. For the first time in a many years, Kaleb was about to say more than one sentence at a time.

"Gentlemen, gentleman, please. I don't see what purpose violence serves here. In fact, I had watched the exchange. The only thing that seems to be needed here is an apology right?" He slowly titled his head towards the man who had allowed the glass bottle slip. It was a valid request and Kaleb made sure to stop just out of arms reach as he smiled as politely as he could. It was clear that he was raised with manors, maybe even royal-like manors.

His anger had been roused, and the call of blood was only growing stronger. The lord wanted nothing more than the bleed the insufferable lout dry before spitting his blood out, then throw his body into the harbor. That was how they did things in Kurayo. But he couldn't, not here. There were too many eyes, too many witnesses. He could very easily devour them all, but she would know and he was not willing to see what the consequences would be. She had cursed him once. The next time, it might be a trip to the Reaper. A voice broke the silence that settled over the tavern. Sylvain turned his gaze to the boy, and returned his remark with an icy glare. There was more than just anger in his eyes; there was the glint of bloodlust–the look of a hunter being interrupted while cornering its kill.

"Where I come from, apologies are something you cannot afford to pay." He seethed. "You either learn how to keep your neck on your shoulders, or you don't." The vampire then felt a burning sensation begin on the side of his neck. It was that again. He would have to let this one go…for now. Dropping the man he had held by the collar, he turned and made his exit from the tavern proper. The last thing he wanted was to be there if that 'curse' of his acted up again. Stepping outside into the daylight, he called for a carriage. He could very well transform and take flight, but after what had taken place at the Winking Mermaid it would be best if he maintained a low profile and draw as little attention to himself as need be. His work here was almost done, and soon he would be out of this drunkards' den.

Adeluna City had changed a great deal since the last time he had set foot here. It had fallen from grace, and declined. A string of power struggles and poor decisions by the monarchy left it in shambles, despite the more peaceful stance it had politically. Inside the tavern, the atmosphere slowly defrosted and business went about as usual. People were still unsettled by what nearly became a tragedy, and it was quieter than before. The boy who attempted to be the good Samaritan had been a pest, and Sylvain would've torn him in two if this were happening on Koschei. The demeanor told his family must have been well-off if they could afford to teach etiquette. None of which mattered to him, as he was still burning over giving up his prey.

But the vampire lord had more important matters to worry about. The Steward had been planning something as of late, and had been sending him and the others on assignments. She had said very little as to what she had in mind, and he couldn't hazard a guess from whatever hints she may have dropped here and there. That woman's mind worked in a fashion beyond that of any creature he had seen, and it was impossible to figure out what she was thinking. That only made the mark she had put on him all the more infuriating. A carriage pulled up, and the driver opened the door for him. "Where to?" They asked. "Take me to the docks." He replied, handing them ten silver crescents.

Kaleb had not expected that response. In fact with that response he expected far worse to come. Maybe it was the look in this man's eyes or the way he held the other man in the air, it was clear to the young mage that it might be best not to mess with this man. An eyebrow lifted and he even tilted his head some as he watched this man very carefully. As he put down the trouble maker and decided to turn away and leave, Kaleb began to wonder why someone with that much strength and anger just decided to leave. He had only become even more intrigued now. Allowing himself to take in a deep breath he suddenly heard large foot steps and then a sudden light push to his chest, causing him to stumble backwards. "No one asked for you to step in!"

After regaining his balance and not falling over, Kaleb who had been looking at the ground to make sure he watched his steps well slowly turned his eyes back up to the man who just pushed him. "Sir, may I point out I just saved your life?" He smiled politely to him at first and waited for the man's response. He looked confused, maybe even somewhat idiotic as if he didn't understand what he said.

Finally this sailor shook his head and growled at Kaleb, gripping his robes and pulling him off the floor some. "If I had need saving mate, I sure as hell wouldn't have asked someone as small as you!" He chuckled a little at his remark and continued to hold him there. It was true, though he was a height of 6'2", Kaleb wasn't a big man. He had some good muscle tone to him, but no one would ever know through those robes and such.

The young mage had heard just about enough from this guy though. His attitude needed adjusting and Kaleb wasn't afraid to end disagreements with any means. "If you would like to keep this life of yours which I saved, I suggest you put me down." A small smirk spread across his lips as he was no longer being polite, even though his threat even sounded nice. Maybe this mage was incapable of sounding harsh or intimidating.

The sailor could only laugh even more as he lifted Kaleb up further off the floor. "Oh yea? What is such a small man going to do about it?!" The man proceeded to shake Kaleb in the air some, mocking him as he didn't take a single word seriously that was spoken to him. Even while trying to keep his calm demeanor, the face that shown on Kaleb when the man shook him was a face of annoyance and anger.

Slowly lifting his right hand up, the air around it began to chill. Slowly getting colder as the sailor holding him could tell that something was suddenly off about this man he held in his hand. Before he could react, Kaleb thrust his hand into the man's chest as a ball of ice exploded from his hand and slammed into this sailor. Knocking him backwards, it had caused him to drop the young mage. Landing on his feet, he quickly stepped back some and shook his head, "Sorry, I felt like you needed to cool off for a minute." As Kaleb finished his awful pun, he quickly headed towards the exit of the Winking Mermaid, bobbing through the crowd that had formed to watch the altercation. Managing to find himself outside before the sailor could get back up and chase after him he took in a deep breath and began to head deeper into the Kingdom.

"That's an awful lot of silver just for a carriage ride, don't you think?" A familiar voice from within the carriage cabin made the vampire lord nearly jump. The Steward was sitting inside, waiting with her legs crossed. A rather tall woman with brown hair and brown eyes dressed in a plain leather jerkin over a cloth tunic with boots and trousers sat as if she had been waiting for him to show up. Though not pleased to see her, Sylvain gave a bow out of courtesy. The driver then lifted his hat and he saw it was one of her own, cleverly disguised. Taking the coins, she handed the carriage fare back to him. "If I may, what brings the Steward here? I did not expect for you to come receive me in person." He spoke after taking the opposite seat from her.

"I bought out one of the drivers here for the day. Gave the man his first vacation in twenty years. I had some business to do here, so I thought I'd drop by and see if you were done." The brunette explained casually. His face was expressionless, but he did feel the burning on his neck gradually subside as he touched his hand to the location of the mark. "And what business would that be?" She closed the cabin door and answered without a moment's hesitation. "Nothing serious or important. I just needed a way to kill time." Just as suspected, she was tight-lipped about anything outside of what she chose to tell him. "Anyway, so about those trade schedules." She motioned, switching the topic. He took out what he had been given in the exchange, and she scanned them quickly. "Mhm…looks good. That den of scum and villainy's always starting something between one gang or another; it's a real pain. And they wonder why the general populace's in the poorhouse…you don't expect respectable businesses to go where safety is determined by how much money you can throw at armed thugs."

As the carriage began moving towards the docks, she leaned back against the seat and studied his face. "Got into a fight with some drifter?" He chose not to answer her question and kept silent. "Figured as much. Not like I was watching anyway. Whenever you mix people with poor self-control and alcohol that's a given. Have you eaten anything? I'll take that as a no." For all the casual chatter, she had a poker face. "Do you think I would be able to feed in broad daylight with guards around every corner?" Sylvain scoffed. "What about that chalice I gave you? As long as nobody smells it they wouldn't suspect a thing." Came her swift rebuttal. "Besides, I wasn't talking specifically about that. Apparently your digestive system is still functional even in a state of undeath." 

It had been months since he was forcibly taken into her service, and only recently did she give him freedom to leave the confines of that storm-drenched bastion. He was still required to return on a regular basis, and he was sure his actions were all being monitored. The lord was not one to accept being under the authority of another being so easily, even with her divine station. From the very beginning she had told him he would enter a lifetime of servitude, and he would stay in her service until his last breath. Yet, what was more disconcerting was how the Steward acted towards this relationship. Sometimes she would have her attention completely caught up in drawings and calculations, and at other times she was a looming shape of terror that could emerge from anywhere. Capricious, yet consistent. A complete and utter contradiction. And all the while it seemed like she was watching everything, like how a cat eyes the birds on a fence.

The ride was short, and soon the wheels came to a halt. Stepping out first, she opened the door and waited for him to follow. Before them was the docks and where the airships were stationed before they returned to flying the skies. A war airship was docked at the moment, and the Steward waited for the doors to open.