The Midnight Market was as bustling as it had been on their last visit, perhaps even a little busier. There was a subtly different energy though, under the bright pale light of the full moon. Plenty of species had a reaction to the moon, usually one that stirred them to restless activity. Beastfolk and shifters like Vyx would be irritable, hungry or lustful according to their individual natures. Any true lycanthropes were absent of course, forced into their bestial forms and doubtless prowling the quieter side streets in search of easy victims. That meant everyone else instinctively crowded together, the herd against the wolves. The spaces between the market stalls were crammed with people, noise, and nervous energy.
They were moving slower through the crowd this time, without a particular destination in mind. Ardour's plan had been to walk side-by-side (arm-in-arm perhaps?) as they browsed, but the density of the throng meant she found herself leading Aavi single-file. After her third worried glance back to check he was still there, he'd slipped a cool hand into hers and her heart had skipped a beat.
To her relief, the innocent Abbey boy was disguised well enough not to draw too much attention, wrapped in a dusty cloak with the hood up to hide his distinctive pale features. Actually it was Ardour who was having more trouble in that department. With the previous few days' adventures conspiring to destroy practically all of her clothes, she was naked save for a spare dark cloak Aavi had brought her. It was pinned closed at the front, but too loosely for her liking. Hands and bodies pressed against her as she forged through the press of people, never quite clear on which touches were accidental and which were opportunistic gropes. She bit her lip and tried to suppress the natural response to such attentions - the last thing she needed was an erection poking out from under the cloak.
Still, it was fun though. They stopped at whatever stall caught Aavi's eye, which was nearly all of them. Eager merchants offered them food, miraculous potions, trinkets and gear, all of it at exorbitant prices that made the paladin balk and stutter. He would never be a natural haggler, Ardour decided.
They bought exotic fruit that Aavi had never seen before and Ardour got to enjoy watching him blush as the satyr merchant described in lurid detail his 'negotiations' with the peach dryads that tended the wild groves across the river, fertile and blooming year round despite the desert heat. It was only as she ate her second delicious fruit, lips tingling gently, that she wondered if exposing Aavi even to outside food was a good idea, but he seemed fine. Actually he seemed to be enjoying himself even more than she was, judging by the wonder on his face.
Next came a stall selling travel supplies. Most of it was for trekking out into the desert, big waterskins, tents and so on. It was the sort of place she'd have passed by before, far too expensive for her meagre means, but the paladin's stock of borrowed ancient coins changed that. A silvertongued blue dragonborn took note of Ardour's hunched and sore back and somehow talked them into buying hammocks, a white canvas shade, light ropes and all the fixtures needed to turn a ruin into a comfortable shelter. When the cute reptile (she thought it was a she, but wasn't totally sure) offered them a discount for 'a few hours in the company of such a charming couple' Ardour nearly opened her mouth to agree, until Aavi's choked stammer reminded her of who she was with.
Mundane purchases of dried food, a lantern, and miscellaneous adventuring tools from a gruff orc proved somewhat safer ground, and swiftly both of their backpacks were filling to capacity. Soon they were just left with Ardour's clothing situation to deal with.
"So I know a place," she began, finding a quiet corner where they could hear each other. "But it's expensive..."
Aavi checked the coin purse with the air of someone not spending their own money. She wondered how much the Abbey actually had.
"We should have enough, as long as it's not magical or anything," he confirmed.
"Nothing magical. Just... the place is a bit weird. You'll have to trust me."
Truthfully she wasn't sure if she was over- or under-selling it, Ardour had only been there once to fetch something for Sivir. A whole bolt of drider silk had been exchanged for a supple black leather choker with a silver clasp, the simple piece radiating a strange sort of sensuous power. A day later, Toro had collected a handsome young drow male from the city gates, blinking and confused in the hot sun, and delivered him to the werespider's lair. They'd never seen the choker or the visitor again, but the whole mysterious episode had stuck in her memory.
"I trust you," Aavi agreed cheerfully, unaware of her wandering thoughts. She tried to suppress an image of the beautiful pale boy wearing a collar like that.
"Right... uh, this way..."
She found the place again easily enough, not a market stall but an actual storefront on a side road. The old building sagged heavily on its foundation, seeming to lean out into the street toward them. The door and the sign above it were both a handsome dark walnut, but the small dark letters decorating both were too faded for anyone to read. A large window would have provided a good place to show off merchandise, but it was blocked off by thick red velvet drapes that hid the interior. An iron lantern on a post outside was lit and flickering merrily, suggesting the shop was open at least.
A bell chimed quietly as they entered, the door swinging smoothly closed behind them. The shop was like she remembered it - overstuffed with more clothes than anyone could surely ever need. It wasn't just clothes, a teeming horde of mannequins filled the floor, dressed up in ornamented armour, jewellery, trinkets and all sorts of other wonders. More inventory was locked away in glass display cases, tucked high up on shelves, or spilling from half-unpacked crates in every corner. The rich red carpet underfoot seemed deep enough to swallow Ardour's toes.
The sounds of the market died away as the door clicked shut. A curtain at the back of the room twitched, then was drawn aside as the store's proprietor stepped out to meet them.
The most striking thing was her size. She was tall, yes, well over six foot, but more than that she was
big.
Not fat, not overly muscular, just... large, like she'd been scaled up from a normal elven height while keeping every proportion exactly intact. She was an elf, that was clear from her perfect sharp featured face and regally pointed ears, half hidden in lush dark hair that fell halfway down her back.
Richly dressed in a dark purple gown of crushed velvet, Ardour couldn't help but compare the beautiful woman with Sivir, her only other reference for elves. While the small drow was shadowy, this woman was pale as moonlight save for cherry red lips and dark, enchanting eyes. They shared something though, a presence, something that left the knees a little weak and made it hard to meet their gaze.
"Ah,
visitors,
" the voice was rich and deep, perfectly matching her form, "I am Lady DeVelle. Welcome."
"Thank you, Lady," to her relief it only took Ardour a second to find her tongue, "this is Aavi and I am-"
"Ardour. I remember." DeVelle gave her a smile that sent a shiver through her. "How could I forget such a striking young face?"
She drew closer, seeming to loom over the tiefling until Ardour felt like she was being cast into shadow. Which was mad of course, the elf wasn't
that
big and the room was well lit. DeVelle took her hand gently and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. Both her fingers and her lips felt oddly cool, leaving goosebumps prickling Ardour's skin.
"Last time you were here for your Mistress Vriana," the elf purred, "but this time I think not. You are your own creature, no? What can I do for you?"
"...yes..." Ardour's thoughts were slow. The woman was still holding her hand, gazing at her with hypnotic eyes from beneath long dark lashes.
"Yes?" DeVelle prompted, and Ardour could sense the satisfaction there at unsettling her. She tried to marshal her thoughts.
"Yes, I am here for me. I need clothes."
That penetrating gaze flicked down and took in her cloak, still pinned around her but coming loose at the front. Amused, it came back to her face.
"So you do. Very well, come with me."
