<a class="externalLink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2EsIBIfgJg" target="_blank">Music playing</a><br/><br/><b>‘’Wake up you sodden cockered clay-brained giglets! I’m not paying you to snore away your time you filthy impertinent half-faced horn-beasts’’</b><br/><br/>A flash of brilliant bright mint-green feathers and turquoise silk puffed up before the bouncers eyes. Dusk was settling in the dusty and dark streets of Naamah, the whore-district of Hunth. Winnie, a cunning and deviously sharp looking woman of her age was kicking her own employees outside of her tavernish brothel in order to wake the culprits up from their sleeps. The days in Hunth had always been warm, and finally the cool breeze with a hint of salt from the far seas on the coast was blowing the town back to life. One of the men that had been tucked away in a foul-smelling scent of vomit and rum, was now slowly opening his eyes with a trembling lip of fear as soon as he could see the brilliant feathers of his boss raised up in anger before his face. The lady always looked ever so frightening when mad of anger, her feathers puffed up and making her bigger then she initially seemed, nevertheless it was not the sight of that animaleske scaring method. It was the warning that laid behind those infuriating eyes if he did not do his duty fast, for all he knew, he would be out on the streets without a job by tomorrow morning. Or worse, he would end up in the woman’s famous stew before the beginning of the night.<br/><b><br/>
‘’Don’t let me catch you sleeping again before the nights over, you rank motley minded miscreant!’’</b><br/><br/>Winnie stepped back inside, trying to crease the wrinkles in her dress flat and her feathers back into line of her neck and face.  She was instantly greeted by the fluffy appearance of a colourful and young little<a class="externalLink" href="http://images.4chan.org/b/src/1370971621987.jpg" target="_blank"> Vulpari</a>, her body tightly bound in the burlesque clothing her mistress always so admired.  The foxy little thing saw the booming mood of her owner and tried, despite all the bad omens, to muster up her brightest smile and hand Winnie the elaborately decorated hat over.<br/>Without another word said, the stern aviary woman waved her hand towards the little whore in a sign that she needed to hurry out of the mistress’ sight, before she placed the black laced and heavily decorated with her own blue feathers headpiece upon her still attached feathers. With a look of strictness and authority she peered from underneath the hanging lace bit, and watched the tavern-bit of her brothel slowly bristle to life again.<br/><br/>Most of the buildings in town were made out black and silver metal, glazed buildings in the sun, cold and un-invitingly looking. There had been no difference in her own humble flat, that had since then grown to be the biggest brothel hotel of town. Not until she used her feminine touch and love for the old grandeur of the humans. Even the Ramen, her biggest and most hated customers, had to begrudgingly admit that W’eniton had taste, albeit taken from an human era, she used it to make even the thinnest and ill-looking slave girl to look warm and appealing for the monstrous creatures that roamed Hunth. Or in this case, the darkest corner of Naamah, to look like the home of your own mother. Well, if your mother had the foulest mouth of all of Gha’mos that is.<br/><br/>No, to be in Winnie’s tavern, and to drink one of her own ales before ordering the lovely looking girls always darting about was almost like taking a step back in time, into an age of long forgotten grandeur. The faded red and with alcohol stained carpet were to be cleaned every night, most of the time by girls that refused to sell their bodies, and choose a less rewarding job.  There was wood as well, a sight to be seen in a city almost exclusively made out of metal and bars, wood covering her walls in long strips. Even the skirtings were made from it, the beams and the extensive bar with its now slowly awaking lewdsters that could almost call the place their home. Fallen asleep of the amount of booze that had been tanked into their bodies, paid by the bloodmoney of slaves and gambling, or any other sunning ways that the patrons of Hunth made their living with. There was a  lounge as well, the sight of it resembling a cavernous underground space which might once have been a cellar or storage basement, but now carpeted and draped with red and purple lush looking fabrics. Benches and rounded beds were placed in a large circle around the walls, having girls of all ages and races perched upon the rich looking sheets. They wore hardly anything more then the burlesque lingerie given to them in Winnie’s own generosity and kindness.<br/><br/>Dark red and bright white candles were burning at each and every small nook and cranny, casting long shadows and giving the paying customers little sight of the true beauties they were paying for the lewdness of the night. A human with dark red hair and a black eyepatch perched upon her right eye darted from behind a pole and greeted Winnie with a smile. She was dressed in a similar looking silk dress as her Mistress, a thick laced corset and bright orange colours that stood out in between the dark black silk of her skirts. She looked different from the whores and slavegirls on the pillowed benches. Having a tattered apron around her waist identified herself as a waitress, one who certainly had her share in a brawl or so by the look of her scarred arms and bruised skin.<br/><b><br/>
‘’Vesvesa, what is the count of ale still in stock tonight?’’<br/>
<br/>
‘’Four whole barrels filled with dark ale miss, three filled with rum and one with dvergar ale, still untouched since we bought it, as you know’’</b><br/><br/>Winnie looked at the strong and confident employee and mustered up a smile herself, one that showed the pride and perhaps love she felt for the girl. Nevertheless, she slowly pulled of the laced gloves of her fingers and handed it to the woman. Vesvesa, who knew what was expected of her, took out a small long copper tube and firmly placed a white exotic smelling cigarette in the lady’s cigarette holder. Vesvesa even went as far as placing it herself onto her own bright red painted lips, slightly staining the pristine copper in its way, and lighting the thing for Winnie, before she handed it over. Winnie took a few tokes from it before she continued her routine.<br/><b><br/>
‘’How many of the girls are ill today?’’</b><br/><br/><b>‘’None, miss, they are all ready to receive guests as you wish’’</b><br/><br/>The Aviari woman let herself glance around the room, and rested her eyes upon a patron who was still heavily snoring from the previous days heat and hard working.<br/><br/><b>‘’Has the cleaning staff finished their routines, and are the rooms up to my standards, Vesvesa?’’</b><br/><br/>The eye-patched waitress only smiled at the harshly asked questions of the bird-woman before her, having been used to the attitude over the years now, she simply bowed her head and pointed at a group of demure and frightening ill-looking slaves in old French black-and-white costumes.<br/><b><br/>
‘’Yes they are miss, everything is ready for the night to begin. I’ve even taken the liberty to open the front doors before you awoke Bill and Evans again from their day-shift. They will soon be replaced by the nightcrew who is now changing uniforms. Is there anything else, miss?’’</b><br/><br/>The blue feathered creature shook her head and smiled, genuinely this time, before she strode to the bar and poured herself a tall glass of rich golden honey liquor, sipping contently and watching the crowd bustle about around her. Seeing that her waitress had followed her tail and began to clean the bar before her, minding her own business as it was part of their routine every night.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>