It was an average night for the Dragon’s Hearth or at least what had become average in recent months.  From the landing at the top of the stairs Megra observed the goings on. It was mostly regulars tonight, their favorite drinks already in hand and favorite company in their laps. There was some comfort in that. While business was down, regulars could be counted on to tip well and follow the rules. The Zmeu woman ran a tight ship and haggling or attempts to short the workers wasn’t tolerated. If a customer patronized enough for the madam to remember their face it meant that they had proved themselves as reliable and well behaved.

But a brothel could only survive so long on the same group of familiar faces. Such an establishment lived and died on a steady stream of newcomers and one night stays. Travelers who kept things light and found heavy purses a burden. There were only a few such guests tonight. In a back corner a small group of mercenaries sat around a table swapping stories, each one trying to outdo the other and roundly being called out by his companions. There was a time when a passing party of adventurers could cover the brothel's expenses for a month with a single night. The region was changing though, becoming tame, and as it did such nights were becoming few and far between. Those who sought fortune through testing their mettle had set their sights to new frontiers and new adventure. Now they had mostly been replaced with merchants, ranchers and farmhands; customers who knew the value of their coin and were far too tight with how it was spent.

As much as this bothered Megra she wouldn’t let it show. She knew the lack of funds was already being felt by the Hearth but she was the last one who could panic. As the madam She was the captain of the ship, responsible for the lives under her command and she would remain a pillar of strength for them to look to. 

So rather than lament the loss of former glory she instead set her keen mind to the potential that laid below. If there was an opportunity they could exploit an opening where a customer might give three coins just as readily as one she would find it. The woman’s claws clacked rhythmically as she turned her attention to two farm boys barely out sitting nervously with a couple of the working girls. Megra smiled as their eyes moved quickly from one unique form to another. Human workers were in the minority here and most new patrons were overwhelmed by the variety of beauty present. From dwarf to orc, satyr and demon the Hearth truly seemed to have it all. 

As the drinks took effect the men began to relax and it wasn’t long until one of them was making jokes and swinging his flagon about in a manner similar to the mercenaries across the room. As he weaved his tale one of the girls laughed politely from the arm of the couch gently caressing his shoulder with the practiced touch of a professional. His friend on the other hand seemed less enthused. Megra watched as the young man  threw several glances to a tall half-orc across the room making small talk with a couple of the other employees. The dragoness noticed and made a note to facilitate an introduction when she could. 

Her eyes left the young man as she was forced to make way as one of the courtesans. A goblin named Penny, came rushing up the stairs, a drunk regular in tow. The petite green skinned girl giggled as she ran but stopped when she saw Megra at the landing , “Excuse me ma’am,” she said apologetically. 

Megra just smiled, first at Penny and then at the man who looked confused as to why they had stopped. Penny returned the gesture then the pair hurried down the hall to her room, slamming the door behind them. Once they had passed, Megra returned her attention back to the crowd. Unfortunately a majority seemed to be locals from the village down the hill, at least the few who would still visit. The community had changed drastically from when Megra first arrived nearly a generation before. The boomtown where she had first pitched her tent had long ago busted and been reborn quiet, pious and with its rough edges rounded off. Most of the Hearth's neighbors now considered the place an embarrassing stain on their proper little community. The local church had even tried to run them off for a time but despite those efforts the Hearth remained. Those from the village who still visited could be counted on for a few rounds but not much else. 

Of course even a crowd like this could be made profitable. Drinks could be watered down, change could be miscounted and otherwise celibate patrons could be persuaded into a bed. The last option was by far the most profitable but unfortunately the Hearths secret weapon was nowhere to be seen.  

 By now Cas should have been in the middle of their set casting their spell over a drooling crowd. The tips alone from the demon's performances would have been enough to make the night profitable and the extra company they would have sold to the worked up patrons would have gone some way toward filling the hearth's coffers. But the stage remained empty and that money remained in the guests pockets. 

While disappointing, the absence of the concubus was not entirely surprising. While most of the Hearths residents were free spirits Cas was something else. They were like an alleycat coming and going as they pleased and showing enough occasional affection to make their aloofness almost endearing. There were times Megra wouldn’t see them for days only to have the demon appear from one of the rooms with a shambling husk that was once their client. They’d stretch lazily looking bored but refreshed as their lover shuffled away changed and haunted. 

The madam sometimes questioned whether they were worth the stress and the worry but of course that was an easy answer. Cas might have been a less than ideal employee but they were one of the Hearth’s greatest assets and like all of the employees under her command she cherished them with the same fervor her larger cousins cherished their hordes of gold and jewels. 

Taking her eyes from the empty stage she began to descend the stairs when she noticed a man sitting quietly in the corner near the door. He appeared normal enough maybe in his early or mid twenties with fair skin and unstyled brown hair. Even sitting she could tell he was taller than average and looked strong if a little lean. He seemed built more for agility and explosiveness, his taut limbs reminding her of a large cat though they were difficult to see under his coat. 

This was part of what had caught her eye. The brothel was warm and everyone else had shed their coats for comfort after a few minutes of being inside. This man however seemed content to sweat and he seemed to have no interest in what the hearth was selling. His eyes would occasionally dart to a passing worker but they never lingered or showed even a spark of desire. Instead he would quickly take them in then  return to stare at the door.  Those eyes of his, gray, like dark smoke, further unsettled the madam. They were distant and cold but sharp and calculating, they reminded her somewhat of a wolf when it was seeking prey.  Maybe that was why for some reason  she couldn’t explain, the sight of him twisted the madam's stomach into a tight knot.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs she got the attention of one of the girls named Ressa. Megra motioned with her eyes to where the man sat and the petite woman began to cross  the room with a rhythmic dance like stride. Young, fresh faced with a slender frame, black hair and large blue eyes she drew quite a few looks.

Ressa was new to the type of work done at the Hearth but was already proving herself to be quite valuable. Before coming into Megra’s employ she had been a rather successful thief and spy, experienced in the ways of the world and able to read and manipulate with the best of them. If anyone could give her an accurate assessment of the man it was her. 

Leaving her to it, Megra made her way across the floor to the main entrance. The door man stood when he saw her approach. His massive frame nearly eight feet in height filled the threshold when he did.

“Madame Megra,” he said in a deep harsh voice as he bowed his head.

“Boran,” she said. “How are things tonight?”

“Average as they go madam,” the doorman answered. “No problems, no special guests, fairly quiet, all things considered.” Despite his intimidating stature there was a tinge of concern in his voice. Even after years under her employ Boran still worried whenever the madam took an interest in his work.

“What of the man in the corner? The one speaking with Ressa.” She asked brusquely.

Boran  looked in the man's direction, “I’m not sure what you mean madam. He’s been here about an hour, kept to himself aside from when he ordered his drink. Is there something I should be aware of ?”

Megra shook her head. “I’m just curious, did he give his name or intention?”

“No madam. He arrived alone, I confiscated his weapons with no trouble and had them secured in the armory. He then sat down and hasn’t moved since.”

“He was armed?”

Boran seemed surprised by the question. While less common than it had been, many of their guests  were armed in some way when they arrived.They were technically in the graylands and many folk still carried some sort of protection when out at night. Those who came in seeking company but didn’t surrender their weapons were sent away. It was the policy and there was never a problem with Boran at the door.

“Yes madam, he was. He was carrying some sort of long club or walking stick. He also produced a knife when I asked and he surrendered them both willingly.”

“Was he searched otherwise?”

Boran looked  at her with a growing expression of concern. “No, I didn’t think it necessary…would you like me too…”

She waved her hand before he could finish, “No no Boran it’s fine, just looking for something to be concerned about I suppose. Did you notice anything else odd about him?” 

Boran furrowed his brow and looked at the man once more.

“Well, there was one thing. I didn’t think too much of it but his clothes did have a strange odor to them.” 

“What do you mean?” Megra asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Well, it was kinda like brimstone; old smoke and sulfur. It wasn’t too obvious but it was enough for me to notice. Not sure if it's worth mentioning but it’s the only thing that really stuck out.” 

Megra took a moment to consider the information and what it might mean.“That is quite interesting, thank you Boran, that will be all for now.”