La tana di Chiara has been called a veritable palace sitting at the heart of Valentina City, and as Artemis approaches the grand structure, the leporine Attarus cannot help but feel ever-so-small and quite unqualified to even enter into its massive ornate doorways.
But, she cannot afford to not enter, as beyond there lives the Xanthous Queen: the only one in the city who could grant her some way of acquiring the information she needs, so that she can finally repay her patron for a gift she is honor-bound to repay.
To return to her old life and her former ways would be a great disservice, and one that she must not even consider. There was no turning back, not as she is now.
Despite the fact that the doors are guarded, people of all stations seem to walk inside with little bother. Perhaps someone in simple traveler’s attire wouldn’t be such a departure herself? She takes a deep breath, and she joins in among the crowd of comers and goers, passing by the massive entrance.
As she does, Artemis’ eyes lock with a tall llama, who nods and smiles to her in a common sort of courtesy. Opposite this guard, the draconic Seluran chuckles, a grin passing over her face.
Unknown to Artemis, the two of them turn to enter inside themselves. After all, it isn’t every day that fresh meat makes its way to La tana di Chiara.
The open lobby is one of pure elegance and decadence, showing off the wonders that the business has to offer and the lucrative nature of the service industry. Statues of handsome and beautiful nude figures grace the many pillars holding up a frescoed ceiling, but the most appreciated art pieces are the live performances. Windowed stages are seated in the walls, showing to the potential clientele the various delights and activities they might be able to expect there.
Artemis’ cheeks burn brightly at the sight of workers of various persuasions flaunt their bodies and entwine themselves in erotic displays, all for the benefit of their partners and their deep purses. Truly, La tana di Chiara is a brothel of vast resources and of much sway. Despite the nature of the business, this is probably her best chance to get exactly what she wants from the Tower mages.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” comes a teasing voice from her left.
“Looks like a lost little bunny who isn’t our normal type of customer” comes the gruffer voice.
Artemis whirls around, finding herself face-to-face with the two guards, their hands upon their hips, showing off their impressive armor and the size difference between themselves and their target.
The llama speaks up first in her softer voice, saying, “You know, the word on the street is that there’s a little bunny hopping around town, poking her cute little nose into things.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” the Serulan asks, snickering, leaning in over her.”
Artemis stands on her tiptoes and puffs out her chest. “I’ve come to see the Xanthous Queen.”
“Ooh, you hear that, Roxanne?” The llama says. “She’s here to see the queen.”
“Usually, only people with appointments get to see her, Yasmina. Of course…” the draconian says, a strong hand grabbing Artemis by the shoulder, “She does accept walk-ins, as long as they are ready to perform.”
Artemis’ heart thumps in her chest, and she gulps, nodding her head. “Sure,” she says. “I want to see her. And I want to prove myself. That’s why I came here in the first place.”
Both women stare at her with eyes gleaming with glee and mischief. Yasmina leads the way past the busy floor, taking her to the back like they would so many troublemakers. People turn their heads away as the bouncers make their way through the crowd. After all, Yasmina and Roxanne are the queen’s personal guard. When they move, you move, whether you want to or not.
Artemis walks in between the two. The Serulan removes her grip and the two lead the rabbit through with just their presence alone. They eventually make it past all the occupied game tables, drink servers, and people groping each other in the corners of the chamber to a set of doors carved with voluptuous figures gilded to catch the eye on their most erotic areas.
Even if she wanted to run, Artemis knows she can’t.
And she doesn’t want to run. This is exactly where she wants to be.
In unison, the two guards push the doors open and step inside, ushering her into hallways leading to other resplendent areas: with the steam of saunas, the scents of hookah dens, and the sounds of instruments wafting in down the various corridors. This continues, until they make their way to the very end, where even more ornate doors carved from stone with figures holding the handles as if they were to come alive to open the portals themselves.
In fact, those doors do open on their own, leading the three into a chamber that oozes with the comforts of a palatial home, and sitting on the comfiest of seats, facing the door and dressed in a bright and flowing gown is a beautiful Serulan woman, her eyes fluttering at the sight of the newcomer.
“Welcome, my mysterious guest” the woman speaks in a melodic voice, gesturing with her arms to emphasize the depth of the chamber, “to the den of the Xanthous Queen.”
When the queen stands, she too is taller than Artemis, but still is dwarfed by her guards. “Yasmina,” the leader of the bordello says, her hands moving behind her back as she approaches the three. “The signal you gave me told me you found a rare treasure, indeed. I’m inclined to agree. But Roxanne, you have reservations about her?”
Roxanne snorts. “Can’t get distracted by every exotic beauty, Miss.”
“Hm… that’s true,” their leader says, stroking her chin. “Well, then, why don’t you be the one to assess her potential.”
With a grin, the Serulan bows. “It will be my pleasure.”
With the bright Serulan approaching her, Artemis realizes for the first time exactly how much taller and imposing Roxanne is. That confident smirk she has over those sharp teeth, and that bright hair that covers one eye—both make her quite alluring indeed.