<div class="floatleft">(http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n534/MaidensElf/imagesqtbnANd9GcTKzJMnSPjD6tv2dAvsEbavXDVcbjLGtCDM6cEan7VPuG1RREQk.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Tyger (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=282404.msg13953626#msg13953626)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Table in the main room<br/><strong>Time: </strong>Day 3 late evening<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>Shadow armor, and dark purple cloak, Katana at his waist.<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Lyric<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Lyric repeated his name<strong> “Tyyygerrr”</strong>in an odd but intriguing way, almost like a purr, like he might do. She seemed to be testing it, to see how it felt on her tongue. It looked to him like she enjoyed that feeling. Briefly though there was distance in her eyes as if she were thinking. Had she heard of him somewhere? It was possible clearly The Brothel was in place that was somehow between many different worlds. So other travelers may have passed through with tales of his world. While he was not famous or infamous so much he had been traveling that world plying his trade as adventurer and hero there for about two and a half centuries. He had started running across people that had heard of his exploits, some feared him while others revered him. That really was not a concern, if she had heard tales they either would come back to her or they would not. What mattered now was that she seemed interested and seemed to enjoy the teasing touch on his bare arm and offered him a dazzling smile. His own smile broadened even putting more of a sparkle into his amethyst eyes.<br/><br/>When the wine and the glasses were placed on the table the half-elf leaned forward to pour the wine into both glasses with his free arm. It smelled like a good wine and well worth the price. He enjoyed the things wealth could give him as he still remembered the days he had nothing. He placed one glass before Lyric and took a sip from the other. He was quite pleased when she told him gold was a fine choice, but arched his brow and cocked his again to one side when she said it would cost more than simple gold. “What more than gold do you demand?” Sitting his glass back on the table he turned more to face her and caressed her arm. “Name the price, Dear Lyric, the only thing I cannot give you is my soul. It is marred and you would not want it anyway.”