Content warning for non-consent, implied drug use, mind control etc.
***
“Ticket for one.” Maldred grunted at the surly doorman, keeping a careful eye out for any additional security.
“2 crowns.” the thug grunted back
This place didn’t look like it was worth 3 crowns, a sunken doorway in a dingy back alley in the under-city. For that money Maldred could get a full meal and drink in the finest restaurants the city had to offer. Still, he could put it on expenses, ‘the upside to fucking your captain’ he mused to himself, slipping two golden pieces from his coin pouch.
“Fine, better be worth it.”
The doorman simply smirked, and gestured for Maldred to head inside.
Not the level of security he’d expected, if this was where rifter magic rituals were happening. Three months the department had been chasing down leads like this, and so far nothing had panned out. Nothing except for a few murdered officers who stumbled down the wrong rabbit hole and found regular old criminality, drugs, cursed items, or the likes. Still, if the lead came from Sansha, this was probably worth checking out.
This clearly wasn’t a common drug den.
The room ahead was bathed in a soft glow from a handful of torches on the wall, with a single, presumably magical, light putting the stage in bright focus. As his eyes adjusted, Maldred made out maybe two dozen other patrons spread around the surprisingly luxurious, but cramped lounge. A handful of staff flitted from table to table, giving the room an air of excitement and activity that seemed out of place for somewhere so out of the way. Maldred snorted in amusement, as he noted the presence of a particularly well-regarded member of the clergy, known in public for his puritanical sermons.
“Fucking priests, not surprising.” he muttered under his breath, as he headed to the bar set off the side of the stage.
“Just a regular ale please Chief.” he said, smiling at the slim half-elf behind the bar.
“Certainly, any preference? We have one from each city-state this week.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, Sir. We try to provide for out of town guests in the fiends’ den.”
“Is that right? You get many?” Maldred asked, trying not to sound too interested
“A few, those with the right… tastes anyway.” the barman shot him a knowing smile
“Good to be in good company then! Give me one from here, no need for anything too fancy for little old me.”
“Certainly, Sir.” the half-elf nodded, turning to the tapped barrels behind him, and pouring one out.
Maldred surveyed the room.
One obvious exit, the way he came in, down a short corridor with a single doorman. Two other ways out, one behind the bar, and another to the side of the stage, though how far the outside was from those doors, he wasn’t sure. The old city was a maze of warrens and caves, built before the church took over stewardship and planning. There was no telling how far back this structure went without exploring it. The only thing he knew for sure was that there was always an extra escape tunnel in a place like this.
“One ale, Sir.”
“Thanks, how much?” Maldred reached for his coin pouch.
“Drinks are on the house, Sir.” the barkeep smiled warmly, before gesturing to the room “Feel free to take a seat, the show is starting soon.” the barkeep seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking over somewhere across the room, before adding, “there’s a booth in the back free if you’d like, I believe we had a party booking cancel.”
“Good tip, thanks.”
Maldred slipped a silver piece from his pouch and set it down on the countertop, turning to find a seat. At the back of the room would be ideal, he was pretty comfortable with undercover work by now, but it was much easier to observe the goings on if you weren’t in most people’s eyeline.
He saw the last empty booth, a small, semi-circular padded bench with a low table in the centre, and nimbly navigated his way past the tipsy patrons chatting in huddled groups.
He heard the noise of instruments over the din, somewhere behind the stage curtains. The noise of a drum being set in place, string instruments tuning, and the shuffling of hidden players.
This was… unusual. Maldred wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting here, the intel had been pretty light, but he hadn’t expected some sort of musical performance. Sansha had described this place as being a suspected gambling den, not a back-street opera.
He took a few moments to observe the setup once more. A handful of tables near the stage, five booths around the rear of the room, though from here he couldn’t see into most of the others. He could take a wander over to the bar if he needed to see more later, Maldred reasoned. For now, staying out of the way suited him.
His observations were interrupted by a preppy voice from his side, “Evenin’ Mister. You got an appetite tonight? We got cooked meats and broth to keep your humours up!”
He looked up to his side to see a short woman dressed in a simple black and white skirt and low-cut chemise. Draped across her face was a sheer transparent veil, with a few jewels for decoration. “Uh, no, my humours are fine.” Maldred tried not to seem too alarmed at being snuck up on, “But hey, if I need something, I can wave you down right?”
“Sure thing, sugar,” she beamed, “I’ll keep an eye on you, alright?”
Not ideal.
“No, no it’s fine darling, I can attract your attention if I want to.”
The waitress ruffled his hair, in an overly familiar way that took him by surprise, “I bet you could. Well you just sit there and enjoy the show, and I’ll be back to check on you later cutie.”
“Sure.” he snorted, trying not to sound too offended by the unwelcome attention.
He watched, perhaps a little too attentively, as the waitress span on her heels and bounced away out of sight, moving effortlessly through the increasingly crowded room. The seating in the main floor was filling up now, as a sense of anticipation began to build. The staff were all retreating to the edges of the room, as Maldred realised that a steady low drumbeat was now playing, the pace ever so slowly building.
The torches around the edge of the room dimmed on their own, a clever trick, and the crowd slowly fell silent as the drumbeat quickened.
A man spoke, in a hushed tone that still reached out across the room, as the drum beat slowly built, joined by the sonorous thrum of a cello being drawn across. “Distinguished guests of the seven city-states. Fortunate admirers of the occult and divine alike. You lucky few. Welcome to a special show. Tonight, we take you back, to the first war of the rift, a piece of living history brought to life through the finest in magical alteration, physical athleticism, and natural beauty of course.” There was a soft cheer of appreciation from the crowd, as the announcer continued. “The year is 221, the opening months of the war. Prince Ulford’s column makes camp, outside the village of Yulderford, the last safe crossing from the North. As the soldiers make merry, drink and sing in their camps, the Prince and his entourage are enjoying the warmth of the village tavern!”
With that, the staff begin to mingle with the crowd, trays of drinks balanced expertly on their shoulders. Maldred couldn’t help but notice the rapid change of costume. All the staff had changed into the same black and white chemise, skirt and veil combo that his waitress had worn before. Mead and Ale were handed out freely. A different waiter twirled past Maldred ignoring his polite refusal as they set a large tankard of the same Ale down in front of him. All around the room the Patrons murmured appreciatively.
The band started to play, an upbeat, folksy melody, as the announcer continued. “The war seemed far away that night. The running waters of Yulderford seemingly kept the fiends at bay, and guards stood watch on the only bridge. The village chief brought out dancers, to keep the royals entertained, in the hopes that they might save the village from what lay ahead.”
As the announcer spoke, two women in elaborately tailored dresses swept to the stage, as the magical stage-light softened slightly. “Hildy and Bree” the announcer added, their voice sinking beneath the rising music, as the two women began to dance, in large, sweeping circles.
Maldred sighed, it wasn’t the sort of thing he’d usually go to, but at least it was on the department’s coin. Seemed hard to believe anyone would visit the old city for a history lesson, much less that they’d pay for the privilege. He took a sip of the surprisingly well chilled ale. At least the drinks were good, he conceded.
He tried to follow the story, but the announcer’s voice was hushed, not quite drowned out by the noise of the band, but it took a little effort to follow. The announcer spoke of… the strategic importance of ‘Yulderford’, and of the skirmishes and deceits that led to the Prince’s army stopping there. It was strangely informative, or perhaps fanciful? Maldred had read a little history, and he’d never heard of a battle of Yulderford. The conventional history was simply that Prince Ulford’s column was lost in the inner woods, like most of the early battalions sent out at the start. It seems they were taking some… creative liberties with the story.
At least the dancers were good, and the music… and the ale. He looked down at his second glass, now empty. Before he had even raised an arm, his waitress had appeared at his side, “Hey Mister! Can I get you a refill?” she whispered, still maintaining that annoying preppy tone.
“Yeah, just a small one, thanks.” Maldred whispered back.
“How about food? A lot of our patrons find they have more of an… appetite, once the show starts?” she flicked her head towards the stage, where the two dancers had changed outfits (‘When had that happened?’ Maldred wondered), and were now doing some sort of conversational routine with one of the tables at the front.
The waitress’s fingers clicked in front of his face. He’d been staring and hadn’t realised it, the new outfits were perhaps a little less substantial than you’d usually see on stage. The waitress leaned down, one hand on his back, “Hey, you look like you could use a good meal, come on, it’s all included!”
Maldred frowned, might as well eat something if he’s stuck here for a while, “Sure, mutton and bread if you’ve got it, otherwise I’ll take whatever meat’s going out first”. The waitress rolled her eyes at him, “Oh you’re really out of place here aren’t you? What you win a big bet on cards or something?”
“Huh?” Maldred wasn’t sure what she was getting at.
“Oh come on Mister, we serve the finest game in the region, and you’re satisfied with a few pieces of mutton? You should indulge! Here, let me talk you through what we’ve got.”
Before he could interject, she had taken a swift step across his front to get into the booth beside him. He thought about putting a hand up to grab her waist, but didn’t want to draw the wrong sort of attention. She continued as she squished into the padded seat beside him, and laid a tiny slip of parchment down on the table, covered in incomprehensible writing.
“What is that? Is that even a real language?”
The waitress batted his arm playfully, “Of course it is cutie, but I don’t expect they teach all the big strong soldiers like you to read, do they?”
“I’m not…” he went to correct her, then thought better of it.
“Don’t worry,” she continued, “I’ll talk you through it. Feel free to keep watching the show, we’re getting to a really good part!”
Maldred wiped his brow, it was getting warm in here, with all these bodies. The waitress sitting right up against his side wasn’t helping much either, and he found himself cursing that he hadn’t handed his cloak over at the bar.
“Ooh, look, you’re going to miss it!”
He looked to the stage, where the lighting had noticeably changed, taking on a more deep orange hue. The music had changed too, no longer upbeat, it was a swirling rhythm of beats and strings. The dancers were making the most of it, having brought a young man from the audience up onto the stage, the two danced effortlessly around him, taking turns to take his hands, turning him to face them, only to let go as the other pulled at him from another angle, leaving him looking like a drunkard fighting ghosts.
Maldred laughed at the spectacle, only half paying attention to the narrator’s monologue, “the Prince’s chief bodyguard was no ordinary soldier, the young man charged with his master’s safety was a wizard. A talented wizard with a flair for clairvoyancy. The young man had been suspicious, on edge, that night, but now… plied with alcohol, and caught up in the dance…”
The two dancers had spun the poor lad on stage into a stupor, he was almost falling over, when they twirled him off to the back of the stage, tumbling through the curtain out of sight. Maldred, and a few others, craned their necks to see what was going on. The narrator continued… “the first bodyguard, the only one who might’ve seen through their disguises, was out of the way. The prince, and his generals, now had no idea that the two innocent village girls before them were in fact…”
With a flourish of music, the two dancers bent over double, before launching themselves upwards, their (ever more exposed) skin instantly changing colour before the crowd’s eyes, to a pastel lilac, and a deeper purple. Maldred gasped, as did many others in the crowd. It was a spectacular trick, even though he had a rough idea of how they did it. The dancers seemed to hang in the air a moment, before it became clear what they were holding on to. Suspended from the rafters were a handful of silks, that had seemed to be just part of the set at first.
Maldred flinched as he felt the waitress’s hand on his thigh. She had been saying something, and it had taken him far too long to realise. “So, what do you fancy? You have an appetite yet?”
He winced, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t completely tuned out the server “uh, sorry, could you just repeat those last two options again”
“Of course!” she beamed, gently squeezing his thigh. ‘Overfamiliar’ he thought. “Impish Delight, which is mostly sugared cream and berries, or ‘Honey and Wine’ “, she giggled “like the dancers”.
“huh?” he, didn’t get the joke.
“Oh, spoilers! Sorry!” she laughed quietly, “I can tell you more about it, but uh, like, we have to stay quiet so we don’t spoil the show, can you do that cutie?”
Maldred pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course he could keep quiet, he’d been doing it most of his career. He simply nodded. The waitress motioned back to the stage as she leaned closer, whispering in his ear, he leaned away slightly, but she didn’t seem to get the message. “Ok, look at the one on the left, the light pink one doing a handstand. So, the story goes, that’s “Honey”. The one on the right, the purple one, that’s “Wine”. Supposedly, those two were legendary warriors from beyond the rift, who unusually always fought together.”
Maldred just nodded, pretending this was common knowledge, as he watched the two dancers on stage. They’d changed clothing again whilst he wasn’t looking, now wearing just a set of lingerie each, complete with stockings and gloves that covered almost the entirety of their limbs. That didn’t hide the additional props they’d put on though, hooved feet, which did a surprisingly good job of highlighting their muscular legs as they cartwheeled through the air.
The announcer’s voice had almost faded behind the pulsing music now, so Maldred was grateful for the waitress’s voice in his ear as she explained more. “The legends go, that Honey was one of the most gifted fighters in the armies of the rift, so named because, if you were too slow, she would simply… flow around you.” as she said this, Honey launched herself from the stage, landing among the tables, striding deftly through the crowd she ducked and weaved between the many grasping, groping hands, whilst reaching out and caressing the crowd as she passed by. In one leap she bound across a table of obvious off-duty mercenaries, plucking a dagger from ones’ belt as she did so, and lazily tossing it back to the stage, where the second dancer swept down to examine it. “The other one, Wine, was, again, according to legend, able to incapacitate men and women alike by her mere presence. They said that, with Wine in your lap, it was as if you had drunk all the alcohol in the kingdom. Anything would seem possible, anything would seem reasonable.”
The dancer, ‘Wine’, on stage made a mocking gesture towards the man who had his knife confiscated, before sliding it back off the stage and following Honey into the crowd.
“So, uh, Honey and Wine?” Maldred struggled to find the words to ask… anything.
“So, they worked together, starting with the soldiers.” The waitress gently nudged his jaw closed as she pointed him towards Honey, who was now dancing lavisciously for a party in one of the booths. “You see, before the prince arrived, they had prepared their battlefield, as you can see in our… recreation here.”
Maldred squinted, trying to work out what she meant.
“Don’t watch her dancing, that’s just the distraction, look under the table.”
Maldred did, and saw a sinewy tail deftly guiding a strip of fabric around each patron’s ankles, before its owner, Honey, swivelled away to the next group, two booths away from him now.
“Don’t worry, you can say no, but it’s all part of the fun.” the waitress whispered in his ear, her hand uncomfortably close to his crotch now. He realised he was enjoying this perhaps a little more than he’d planned, considering he was supposed to be working.
“It’s okay, you’re allowed to enjoy it.” the waitress whispered, giving him just the gentlest touch with the back of her hand. He winced, and turned to tell her off when a whirling shape burst into life at the edge of their booth. It was ‘Honey’. She was even more gorgeous up close, and somewhere around the circuit she had discarded her bra, leaving Maldred staring impolitely at her firm chest, stammering, “I, uh, I uh…”
“she’s going to ask if you want to be tied up, you can say no.” the waitress whispered, her hand now touching him more brazenly.
Honey simply swayed in place, her hands pulling his gaze up towards her sharp face as she smiled warmly down at him, the prosthetic fangs glinting in the torchlight “Hey prettyboy, mind if I play with you?”
He burst out his “no”, trying not to give away that the waitress was starting to play with him through his trousers as the rest of the room watched on. He didn’t really notice the phrasing of the question, distracted as he was. Nor did he notice the sound of metal on wood as his own dagger was nimbly taken from his boot and slid beneath the benches.
It was only as he felt the strap tightening around his ankle that he realised his mistake, but it was too late, Honey’s swaying smiling face had disappeared in a flash as she moved to the next booth. He could fix that in a moment, his attention was definitely elsewhere now. “Please stop” he cussed at the waitress, still under his breath. He was conscious that the audience was still looking their way, and he didn’t want to attract too much attention given his reasons for being there.
“But you’re enjoying it, and it’s all part of the fun…” the waitress said, innocently, “this is just like it would’ve happened too, it’s just a matter of history, “she gently circled the head of his cock through the trousers,
The waitress’ held him in her grip for a second, stroking in tiny quick movements as she spoke, “Really? You came to see Honey and Wine, and thought you wouldn’t end up all horny and helpless?”
“I didn’t” he hissed. “I didn’t know what this was when I came in alright, just…” he grabbed her wrist firmly now, dropping the polite customer routine. “…just stop for a second. “I came here because I think the owner of this place is dangerous.”
The waitress looked concerned, “dangerous? How?”
He moved her hand away from his waist, placing it on her own lap as she tilted her head at him.
He cast a look over his shoulder, the audience all seemed to be looking off to their sides now, not at them. “People are going missing, including someone from your staff, and we think whoever runs this place might be behind it.”
“Really? Miss Foulcan? She doesn’t seem like a dangerous person, she’s just good a good illusionist really. I’m sure you’re mistaken…”
“I don’t think so.”, Maldred said firmly, holding her hand as she tensed up, gripping his own hand tightly to her stomach.
“So, are you like, the city watch?” she asked, curiously
“More or lessh, though I’m really just an investo…. investing… investigator for stuff like…”
He gestured clumsily back towards the stage, “stuff like thish.”
The waitress smirked, “Oh! Is this all one big chat-up line, like, you’re the city body inspector, or something?” she relaxed, her hand slipping out of his weakened grip and squeezing his thigh playfully, “like you’re the official body inspector or something?”
“N- No, not chat up line, no.” Maldred frowned, he was feeling really good about how this was going, but he hadn’t mean it to sound so clumsy. He tried again, “Itss notsh a chatup line, I… I really am here to solve the-”
He paused, something was really off about this, he was leaning against her now, and the light had changed, it was dimmer. He looked out to the room, to see Wine standing at the end of the booth, with a knowing smile. She knew he was barely able to sit up straight. She stood there for a few moments, simply swaying. The waitress whispered in his ear, “I think she likes you. You should ask her about your thing after the show” Wine draped herself across the table, propping her head up on an elbow as, somewhere at the periphery of his vision, she continued to sway her legs for the crowd, grinning at the waitress “Hey Cassie, this one’s cute. How’s he doing?”
He tried to answer, but all that came out was a plaintive moan. Wine cooed at him, “Oh you poor boy, don’t you worry, just listen to Cassandra here and enjoy the show.”
Cassie said something that sounded strange to his ears. He dimly knew that they were using some sort of airborne drug or magical effect to incapacitate him right now, but it was hard to care about that when Cassie’s hand had slipped effortlessly beneath his boxers, and she was playing with him beneath the table, giving him rapid strokes as Wine lazily rose from the table, grinning. Cassie continued to whisper in his ear, “People are looking… don’t react, or you might draw some attention”. Her hand sped up, “You’re feeling good right now, aren’t you?”
Maldred nodded, as subtly as he could manage when his muscles felt like lead.
“You can trust me, is that really why you’re here, you’re not…making this up are you?”
He shook his head, and was rewarded with a firm squeeze from her hand, and praise in his ear. “Such a good detective. You still need help though don’t you?”
He nodded, it made perfect sense. He was drifting in a haze, he could barely sit upright on his own right now.
“Honey and Wine might be involved. But how are you going to know for sure?”
He tried to find an answer. He wasn’t sure how long ago Wine had left the table, but he could still smell something strong in the air, even as his muscles slowly came back to life. “I… finds out. Could look around?” he murmured.
“That’s a good idea, but you’re not exactly going to stumble across anything illegal happening here. I’ve been here two months, and I’ve never seen anything unusual.”
“No?” he managed to sit upright, lifting his head from Cassie’s shoulder and turning to look at her properly. She was smiling warmly through the veil, even as she slowly stroked him beneath his trousers. Her other hand stroked his cheek “No. That’s right. You need to confront those who might actually know something. You can’t confront Miss Foulcan though, can you?”
“Whyyy not?” he slurred.
“Oh you silly boy” she squeezed his cock teasingly, “if she is the person kidnapping people, then she’ll run and hide. You’d never find an illusionist again!”
“true.” he conceded. Cassie was so smart right now, definitely smarter than him, he reasoned.
“I know who you should confront…” she stroked slower now, more deliberate. Maldred grunted in frustration, realising he had probably been close to coming.
“Who?”
“Honey and Wine, obviously. They know things about this place. Wine liked you too, I bet she’d talk if you confronted her. If you told them who you were.”
“But…”
“But nothing,” Cassie interrupted, “if you really want to find out what’s going on, you should go backstage afterwards, and confront them. Their dressing room is the one with the pink door, you can’t miss it.”
“But…” Maldred shook his head, finding the strength now to wipe the sweat from his brow. “I… I can barely think. I think, drugs?”
Cassie laughed and nodded. “Yes, but it’s all for the show, that stuff’s expensive, so we only use enough for the crowd out here. It won’t be so strong after a few minutes… Oh! Plus!”
Cassie slipped her hand quickly out of Maldred’s underwear, much to his disappointment, before untying her veil and lowering it. “This will protect you from the worst of it, I mean, look at me, able to overpower you just because I was wearing that little slip of fabric.”
Maldred stared at the slip of silk she’s placed in his open palm. It seemed entirely insufficient, but he couldn’t deny that she had somehow retained her wits… and her strength, even with Wine’s body so close to them both.
Cassie stroked his hair, and whispered, “you should leave it off until later, you don’t want anyone to be suspicious of you, do you?”
Maldred shook his head, and slipped the veil into his pocket.
“But won’t you… Cassie, won’t you be affected now.” She looked at him with lidded eyes, smiling gently, “Oh yes I will, but that’s all part of the fun of working here!” she laughed softly.
“Besides, you were my only table, and you were… very easy.” she giggled
Maldred laughed, and put an arm around Cassie as they turned to watch the last minutes of the show. Cassie moved to stroke him once more, but he politely, and firmly, grabbed her wrist, and scolded her, “Remember, I’m here on business. I have to go and confront those two…” the dancers were reaching the crescendo of the performance, as the young man whipped off stage earlier was thrown back on, collapsing to the ground as the two set upon him. Wine threw herself to her knees atop his head, her torso swaying as she thrust her hips entirely too enthusiastically.
“Probably for the crowd’s benefit.” he muttered
“I’m not so sure.” Cassie laughed
As the lights faded, and the music swelled, nobody could see the look of confused fear upon the young guard’s face, trapped beneath Wine’s thighs as Honey flowed around his waist in the dark at the back of the stage, as finally the curtains dropped.
The audience rose to their feet in applause, only for most to collapse forwards over their tables, or onto the floor, as they were sharply reminded of the straps tied to their feet. Maldred tried to rise with them, only for Cassie to pull him back down, tumbling into her lap, as she laughed at his clumsiness.
“You can’t hold your Wine can you, detective?”
He scowled, “it’s not everyday I get drugged by an illusory demon.” He shifted himself out of her lap, and tried to reach down to the strap, only to find it anchored quite firmly out of his reach. If only the low table wasn’t there he might have a chance.
He closed his eyes in annoyance for a moment, before turning to Cassie… “Uh, cassie, I can’t reach… could you…” he gestured below the table
She beamed at him, “Oh Mr Detective! You’re so forward.”
“Call me Maldred, and I meant the strap!” he hissed at her
Cassie winked at him, “whatever you call it”, and slipped in an instant beneath the table.
Maldred tried to lean down, but the tight seating, low table, and now Cassie’s head at his waist made it impossible to really see what she was doing. He felt, to his relief, her hands fiddling with something at his ankles. Maldred panicked for a moment, worried she’d find his hidden dagger and think twice about helping him, but her hands moved away after a few moments, settling on his waist as she looked up at him coyly. “Anything else I can do for you whilst I’m down here, Maldred?”
He rolled his eyes, “maybe another time, I’ve got work to do.”
Cassie beamed up at him once more, giving him a quick playful squeeze, “I’ll hold you to that!” before slipping out from under the booth and into the aisles. “I’d better get back to my station, good luck with your…” she leaned in to whisper into his ear “…investigation” before giving him a playful kiss on the neck and slipping away.
Maldred sighed. That girl was a handful, but perhaps not as bad as the two he had to deal with next.
gently squeezing as she continued, “and if it’s just a matter of history, it’s already happened, so you might as well let it happen, right?”
That didn’t sound quite right to Maldred, but he was quite drunk, and he wasn’t sure how to argue with it. He looked down, as subtly as he could manage, past his two empty drinks, to the waitress’s hand, and the leather strap around his ankles. “No… I mean… This isn’t what I came here for…”