Waking slowly Vatra stretched in his bed and lay looking at the ceiling.  The sun shone through the windows, but not so bright as to show that it was full dawn.  The sounds of revelry and small explosions of light and noise roused him further.  Rolling onto his side he reached for his entertainment from the night before and found that she had slipped quietly out of his room at some point prior to dawn.<em>Shame</em>, he thought,<em>I would have liked to have had the chance to wake her with more of the fun we had last night.</em><br/><br/>Looking around the room he could see that nothing else had been touched, and that Valeryia hung on the peg right where he had placed her.  Reaching out with his mind he felt comforted by her presence.<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;"><em><strong>Good morning.  You seem like you had fun last night.  Are we well pleased?</strong></em></span>the high lilting voice teased in his head.<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;"><em> <strong>You really should get up and downstairs.  It is likely that there are things to be done today besides spending all of your time between the welcoming legs of the locals.</strong></em></span><br/><br/>He chuckled at her not-so-innocent ribbing but he did not respond beyond that.  He had nothing to say to her observation.  Swinging his legs to the floor he stood and stretched his naked form, muscles rippling as he tensed and stretched them, loosening his body.  Sitting back down onto the floor he began his morning exercise routine consisting of stretching, push ups, sit ups, and then rolling to the edge of the bed he proceeded to lift the heavy wooden frame with his powerful legs over and over until a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin and made is glisten darkly in the brightening sun.<br/><br/>Walking to a small table and chair he took the sword from it’s scabbard that hung on the wall and sat at the table.  With strong and deliberate strokes he ran a whet stone the length of the black polished blade, over and over, taking great care to put an edge on the sword that would slice down the width of a hair if he chose to.  Satisfied with his early work he placed the sword onto the table stood naked before a small basin of cold water.  Taking a rag he proceeded to wash himself and then dress.<br/><br/>His black leather breeches and boots slipped on easily and the supple leather seemed to form around him.  Then the black leather vest went onto his torso.  Also, supple leather but with small black rings sewn into the panels on the front and back.  The rings shown with an eerie darkness and if one cared to look closely enough they would notice that the material was not metal, but chips of obsidian.  When he stretched and moved the chips reflected bits of light and it seemed as the vest rippled like water around him.  As he put it on he instantly felt more calm and confident.  He wrapped a wide belt of dark snake skin around his waist and slipped the oiled leather gauntlets onto his arms, feeling their power surge into his body.  Lastly, he picked up the scabbard in which he would place Valeryia and slung it over his broad grey shoulders.  The scabbard was dark oiled leather, chased in black ermine that shown sleek and soft as the day the animal had been slain.  The ties were of the same dark oiled leather and then fastened with buckles made of obsidian stone and silver.  He stood in the room now clothed, but lightly, his large and powerful arms shown through the open arms of the vest.  All along the grey skin of his arms, torso and even his head there was obvious markings on his skin.  The tattoos appeared to be some sort of tribal marking and they glowed with a faint hue the color of softly burning coals, smoldering in the bottom of a hearth.<br/><br/>Taking the sword in his hands again he spoke aloud,<br/><br/><strong>Come my friend.  Let us see what trouble we can right today.</strong><br/><br/>At that simple invitation he slipped the obsidian blade into the scabbard and walked from the room closing the door behind him.<br/><br/>Entering the common room he noticed a well built and frankly beautiful Drow had arrived before him.  She sits some distance across the room with an ethereal looking person cloaked in bright silks and a white mask, none of her skin showed from beneath her silks.  Even without any open doors or windows in the common room the silks seem to undulate and move as if blown by a slight breeze, and Vatra found it oddly unsettling.  Still, being a man of some manners he nods his head towards the pair in greeting and moves to sit at a table just out of what he assumed would be ear shot, so he did not appear to be eavesdropping to their private conversations.  As the serving girl came to his table he ordered a light breakfast of dark bread with honey, some soft cheese and blood red sausages with a tankard of dark ale to wash it down.  As he sat eating his food slowly his eyes roved around the room taking in what ever details he could about the pair of women the sat to his left.<em><strong>I wonder what such a beautiful Drow woman is doing here, essentially alone, on the surface.  Where are her underlings or soldiers that she commands, I wonder.  Perhaps… she needs some investigating in her own right… a pleasurable, if unlikely, prospect that would be, </strong></em>he thought as he grinned inwardly, relishing the pictures in his mind, while Valeryia hung on his shoulder and wished she had eyes to roll at him.<br/>