[Mikhail Vashael]

Darkening. The First of Kalendryas in the Season of Winter, Era XIV Post Fractum

Naked chested, the steam above drew down over the man known as Mikhail Vashael like a cleansing annulment. He sat head down staring at the reflection of a face that could belong to someone else. Watching one pupil dialate more then the other, sheets of taunt skin lead to the hanging pages of wrinkles and time. It was a simple vantage point... a self reflection meaning nothing but the enjoyment of water over the skin. A simple vantage point.

Blinking, the man turned his gaze, acknowledging a new presence entering the spa. The tiled bath walls of the House of Hidden Dreams made for a wonderful solace.. dark creatures bestowed torrents of temperate water to rock the giant to sleep. It was worth the money, the coin, the gold... It felt worth it.

Vashael looked at the pink skin of his palms beneath the dark abyss. Nothing waited. Sweat and condensation continued to roll down the man's face as he peered into the blackness beyond. The Vysstichi courtesan had been trying to teach him her customs and history, but the wine and lovemaking had cured all thought. Nothing could cure a man from himself...

Tilting his head back and arms over the rim of the bath Vashael closed his eyes. It was a tactic as much as a form of relaxation. A sign of complete vulnerability was the perfect ruse to draw an attacker into false confidence.. or perhaps it was simply a desire for more wine. The veins on his muscular arms tensed with the subtle shift of weight sending a splash of water against the fat of his tattooed belly. More wine.. He took a slender sip.