[Bloodstalker]

Riak Sierband lounged lazily on the cushioned sofa in his quarters, leg draped casually across one arm as his head leaned back to rest upon the mountain of pillows. His eyes half closed in a state of relaxation as he felt the cool breeze wash over him from the fans working just above and behind his head. Opening his mouth, he enjoyed the taste of another grape being lowered into his lips by one of the palace Servants. This was his idea of living. Opening his eyes, he winked mischieveously at the rather buxon honey haired womanholding the tray, drwaing a shy smile in return. His voice lifted in song, a rather saucy melody about a randy young butcher's daughter frolicing in the fields of Algeren with the centaurs native to that land. Grinning widely at the giggles from over his shoulders from the fan bearers, he weighed the possibliity in his mind of pulling the young lady in front of him down for a kiss. Sighing contentedly, he decided the effort at this time would break his calm mood, so instead settled for bringing her hand forward and kissing it softly, enjoying the inevitable blush that always accompanied such an act.



Yes, this was indeed a much better life than the road. All that trail dust was not good for ones voice. Besides, he had never before found such a rooted audience for his wild tales of adventure and intrigue as he had in the kings son Marcius. The young man was absolutly spellbound with his songs and stories, hanging on every word and detail, hungering for more and more. Riak found it very flattering to his inflated ego. Always in the taverns he had been forced to contend with the noise of the crowd for his audience, a fact that made him feel vastly under appreciated. He had been skeptical at first when approached for this position, fearing the ungodly tedium of dealing with a noble on a day to day basis. They tended to be so very stuffy, but not Marcius. There was a wonderment in his eyes that fed the bards muse. He had understood immediatly the reason for his employment, as the palace had been filled with stories of Marcius always getting into some trouble here and there. Always with the best of intentions it was understood, but really, a prince who was constantly trying to free the oppressed and serve justice to the infidel was more a nuisance in light of the fact that there really were no oppressed to be freed.

Riak had immediatly seized on that spirit in Marcius by spinning grand tales of wizards, dragons,epic battles between good and evil or some other such nonsense. It caught the boys attention, and, as it kept him out of trouble and scandal, the king had been very appreciative. At first, it had been the motivation of his own comfort that had kept his tales coming, but more and more Riak found himself liking the eagerness within Marcius. Certainly, the lad was not stacked quite right, but he had a good enough nature, and the one thing Riak valued above all, a never tiring ear.

Yes, Riak was indeed content here. He could wish for no more than he had, save for his companion Treylan Priedon to be as content as he was. But, alas, Treylan had a wild and free spirit. It was to be expected he supposed, for as much they were friends, they were polar opposites in everything else. Riak was a smaller man, toping out at barely 6 inches over five feet, thin, and kept his light brown hair cut short, in consistancy with the neat gaotee he wore on his face. By constrast, Treylan was a towering figure, taller even than Marcius'six foot 5 inch frame,though perhaps somewhat leaner in build, his long raven colored hair flowing wildly about his shaven face, giving the constant impression that he was always on the move. He knew the younger man was growing restless here, but also knew he prefered the honest living the had found to the theiveing existance that Riak had always forced on his shoulders.

The door to his quarters opened and Riak was about to invite Treylan to join him for a day of pleasurable inactivity, knowing all the while the that the young warrior was not likely to accept, when he noticed the look Treylan shot him as the escort of four Palace guard followed him into the room.

"What did you do this time?" The gruff young man demanded, startling Riak for a moment. Habit made him consider his actions since he had taken employment here, and for once, he really had no idea what Treylan could be talking about. He had been on his best behaviour, well, besides a few interludes with that nobles wife, but still, she wasn't likely to have said anything

"It has to be something for the king to have us summoned to the court" Treylan spoke into the bards blank expression. The mention of the king calmed Riak somewhat though.

"No doubt another audience to commend my work with the young Marcius" he replied confidently.

"Escorted by a contigent of guards?" Treylan shot back increduously.

"Well, there is that, isn't there?", Riak returned, his confidence shaken but not yet destroyed. " Still, it has to be nothing of consequence. After all, we have done nothing except what we were paid to do. Merely some govenmental jibbrish, these nobles have peculiar ways my friend" He chuckled as he and Treylan moved through the door, following the escort to the throne room.