Duncan walked two paces behind the toothless guard, his right hand instinctively on the hilt of his sword, his fingers tracing the Dragon's Tail shape of it. The guard lead him up a paved pathway flanked by neatly trimmed bushes and the occasional tree. Various statues line the pathway, some holding pots from which water seem to appear as if by Magic and dripped into a basin that never seemed to over flow.<br/><br/>Money seemed like it flowed into this house just as surely as the water into those pots. Duncan smiled at the thought of money as he began thinking of the fine wine and finner women he would enjoy tonight at the Black Horn Inn.<br/><br/>His thoughts were cut short by a faint and almost casual sensation at the back of his neck. He kept walking but his stride became more calculated and his right hand wrapped around the hilt as he glanced around the landscape. The feeling was not new to him for it always heralded trouble and usually meant that another Immortal was in the vicinity. But this sensation was different...almost subtle...almost as if someone or<em>thing</em>was trying to mask it's presence. His eyes scanned the statues and the tree line beyond, his sight reaching over the tall walls and towards the silhouette of the Black Horn Inn, framed against the reddish horizon.<br/><br/>Who ever this was did not want to be seen nor felt, he knew but that didn't stop a smile from reaching his lips. Perhaps these coming nights will bring forth an opponent worthy of his skill...and price, he thought.<br/><br/>Duncan's eyes fell back onto the Guard as they entered the mansion.<br/><br/>The hall that he was led through had thick carpets and fine art that were illuminated by ornate torches made from bronze. The high ceiling was adorned with paintings. Wealthy was an understatement if used to describe the Lady of this house.<br/><br/>Duncan paused as the Guard spoke to a serving maid and they both stood outside a heavy oak door as the maid hurried inside. Duncan's thoughts flew back to the sensation he felt just a few minutes ago and only then did he realise that his knuckles were white from clenching his fist around the hilt. The Guard's fearful eyes should have given him some indication of this but he had dismissed the worthless man and didn't pay him much attention other than to make sure he kept his distance.<br/><br/>The Maid came out and curtsied the two of them. "The Lady Gweneth will see you" she said before she hurried away.<br/><br/>They entered the room and the scent of sweet wine and lavender enveloped Duncan. His eyes narrowed as they approached a vision of Beauty far exceeding any he had seen in a good many years. Her eyes almost looked like they were looking into his soul and those same eyes radiated a sense of pride and power, but more interestingly a sense of ... hesitation.<br/><br/>The warm glow from the candles made the Lady glow herself, or perhaps her skin was that smooth and that soft. Duncan stood 3 paces behind the Guard as he was dismissed. He sneered as he walked past Duncan but Duncan's eyes never left the fullness of the Lady's bosom.<br/><br/>Swiftly his eyes met hers as she sat there, waiting.<br/><br/>Duncan bowed deeply, sweeping his left hand in an arc in front of him.<br/><br/>"My Lady Gweneth, they call me Duncan" he said as he looked at her once again. His breathing began to feel as if he had run 5 miles but he hid it well. His eyes ached to roam over her body as she sat there but he fought to keep them on those large blue eyes that remained unyielding.<br/><br/>"I come to offer my sword and my life to you for 13 days, My Lady so that you may have the pleasure of parting with 300 gold pieces" he said, smiling widely as he tripled the promised pay. In his mind it was a fair trade for his services for he was three times more effective than all 4 of those "guards" at the gate.<br/><br/>A faint smell of scented oil reached his nostrils but was soon replaced by the intoxicating smell of lavender as the Lady fanned herself before she spoke. The scent of oil seem to come from the darkest part of the room, close to the bookshelf just beyond the Lady.<br/><br/>When she spoke, her voice was sweeter than the fine wines from Persionia and Ducan swore to himself that he'd pay 3 times as much to hear her lips utter his name in the heat of passion...