Fox in the Henhouse

The sun in this area was something Layne would never get used to. He had meandered his way to Haven country in his hopeless search for someone he was sure to be dead. Compared to the heavily forested area he grew up in, this arid land was like a nightmare. The little border town he found himself in had little in the way of amenities. The inn was abysmally small and dusty just like the rest of the town. He knew spending even a single night in that ratty place would be too much for him and so he needed to find someone amicable enough to let him stay with them. This was a common occurrence for Layne as he rarely found towns offering lodging that was up to his high standards. And so this was how he found himself sitting in a grimy bar scoping out his prey.

It looked as if this town didn't often see travelers because the patrons of the bar were stealing many not so subtle glances in Laynes direction. He couldn't blame them for looking. He was dressed in fine white clothes with colored hair. He stood out like a flower in concrete. He pretended to pay them no mind as he sipped on a bottle of the local swill that a lovely barmaid brought him. After spending years on the road observing small town folk like these people Layne had become quite adept at reading people. As it appeared that he had everyone's attention he would have the blessing of being choosy with his companion. No one in particular stood out immediately. He doubted the young barmaid had cozy living quarters, so she was out. There was a gruff looking man that had hands blackened with soot. He was likely a smith of some sort. Though Layne liked strong men he couldn't risk such filthy hands on his white clothes. 

No, the one person he had decided was worth his time and effort was the burly and well dressed young man sitting in a booth beside a fat merchant who was making some kind of transaction with the old man across from him. It was easy to assume that he was eyeing that fat merchants son who was probably brought along as some sort of lesson in the art of trade. He had seen many young aristocrats like this one before and he found that they were often the easiest people to seduce. Whether it was due to their boredom that came with all of their needs being handled for them, or if it was simply because they were more susceptible to flattery than poorer people, it didn't matter to him. 

Now that he had made up his mind the vampire started to make his glances more obvious. His target was tall, likely a full foot more than himself. He had very tan skin and dark brown curly hair hanging just above his shoulders. He had handsome facial features and eyes that reminded Layne of a sad puppy. This was definitely someone he could work with and it looked as if he wasn't even going to have to try that hard. Layne gave the young man an obvious look of interest and that was enough to get him up out of that booth and over to the bar where the vamp was sitting. 

"I uhh noticed you were looking at me and figured I'd come say hi." The lad would say trying to sound confident despite clearly being out of his element. 

"I was indeed. You looked so bored and I know the feeling." Layne would reply coolly. He'd take a sip from his drink and purposely look disgusted. "Maybe you could buy us something nicer to drink and we could keep each other entertained." He made sure to lock eyes with his prey as he finished his sentence. 

The merchant's son froze for a moment before spinning on his heels and leaning on the bar. "Let me get 2 glasses and...hmm...that bottle of wine there" He would say to the barmaid before turning back to see Layne's reaction. "I'm Simon by the way."

He would eye the bottle for a moment and say "What a find this is in a place like this. You have good taste. Come sit with me." He would motion towards the stool right beside him and introduce himself, "My name is Layne Kruethdale. Pleased to meet you."

The purple haired vampire could see his plans falling into place already. So soon into the conversation and the young man was already seeking his approval. He would have a nice roof over his head this night for sure. 

"You know I've actually been to the Vinyard in the land of Fire where this wine is made. Fine folk over there" Layne would say as he sipped his first glass. It really was a good wine. 

Simon was obviously interested in hearing more about the wider world around them. It was a feeling Layne understood very well. He was the same way many years ago, hanging on every word from a sophisticated vampire. Thinking about those times was always a little nostalgic for him. He wished to be that clueless boy enraptured by the mystery of it all once again. But after spending 30+ years on the road the mystery was nearly all gone. He had had almost this exact conversation dozens of times before, each time with a unique face. And yet each time their reactions were the same. 

By the time he had emptied his fourth glass, Layne was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sitting across from him was a rather inebriated Simon.

"Well...I've talked your ear off all night. I'm sure you've got to get home right?" He would say with a coy smile. "I'm sure the rooms here are as nice as the peo.."

Simon cut him off and clapped both hands on Layne's shoulders, "No no no! The night is still young! Plus you can't stay here. *hiccup* No offense to Milly here, but this place is beneath someone like you." The merchant's son pulled a step back and blushed, "Why don't you...stay at my home? My father is quite rich and our house is much nicer than most in town."

His trap had worked and lodging had been secured. On top of that he had a wealthy bachelor trying desperately to gain his approval. A very fortunate situation to be in. He figured that if the house was nice enough he could get used to the sun in this area for a little while. 

"That's very generous of you Simon. I would love to see your home."

(WC 1116)