Time seemed to stand very still for Jarred, despite the fact that it had only been twenty years since he had been turned. The first ten years or so had been of him learning all he could from his "sire" and the other ten years, the fledgling had been on the run. The old kook was relentless in finding him, believing him to be his property. Up and down the damn continent and for every few days he had to rest and get some sort of control of his life, Azrael would track him down with ease. 

It wouldn't be any different, he thought as he slipped through into Mamlak. It had been one of the few places he had avoided all this time. Hopefully, Azrael wouldn't get too wise and find him here, though there was little hope of that happening. What he needed was to find a way to kill the older vampire, but how? Jarred simply couldn't do it himself; having been compelled not to lay a finger against his master right after the turning. Rolling his gold-hue eyes, the hooded man slipped into the nearest bar. He wouldn't dare drop the disguise as he managed his way to the bar and placed down a few coins from his pocket. "Gin, and have an extra glass ready." He slipped the coins to the barkeep, who exchanged them for the requested order, and Jarred beckoned one of the bar waitresses over. His eyes locked with hers as he spoke in a cool tone. "Show me your wrist, dearest." As if some sort of power took over her, she complied and stretched out her arm, bringing her wrist up to him.

He delicately took it and bit into it, feeling her move in pain. The taste of her blood was refreshing and he brought it over to the second glass and squeezed. Again, he felt her squirm but he would only continue until it was half full before his lips pressed against the wound, sealing it shut. "It will stop hurting in a minute. thank you.", he winked as he savored the second drink before partaking in the gin. At least there were a few things he had learned worthwhile.

It had been a while since he fed, and would later seek out a bit more of a meal; but for the time being, he would be sated enough as more pressing matters reared into his mind. 

The fact that Mamlak was built on a slope made Yavish feel that it added a sort of beauty to the city.  She decided to stop here after travelling for so long for a quick rest at an inn.  The streets and markets were busy, and Yavish caught sight of an old man behind a stall handing loaves of bread to a wolfman in a hood and a dark orange tunic.  Yavish pressed on and noticed several people sending glances her way only to stare straight ahead in the direction they were going when she returned a gaze of her own at them.  They probably looked out of either curiosity or nervousness.  Being a minotaur did give her an imposing stature after all.

Her throat felt rather parched, so she decided to down some alcohol and entered the bar closest to her.  Yavish stepped in and almost immediately several eyes were set upon her for varying periods before they returned to their beverages.  The momentary stares were brushed off as she stepped up to the bartender and produced a small amount of coins asking, "Cheapest rum here please."

The bartender nodded as he took the money and started work on Yavish's requested order.  When it was completed, he handed it off to Yavish who gave him a curt, "Thanks."

She then took a seat by a hooded man and, with little knowledge about Mamlak's society decided to seek out some pointers on what she should be wary of during her night in here.  Yavish set her rum on the table and asked the man, "Excuse me, are you a regular around here?  If so, could you tell me a bit about this city?  Preferably about any gangs or corrupt authorities that I should be watching out for as I stay the night?"    

He hadn't been fully aware of another's presence ever so close to his at the bar. To be fair, he was too wrapped up in his worry over the future machinations of his master. The old bastard was a sly one and would pull any trick out of the book to locate and take him back. If only his capture would have meant death, then Jarred would welcome its embrace. But no, him going back meant things far worse than being killed. Shaking himself free from the thought, he partook in his drinks- the gin again before the blood. 

The voice startled him enough to make the hooded man turn to see its owner. He hadn't seen such a creature like her before, but he quickly regained his composure. It was rather rude to stare, after all, but it was kind of hard when she decided to sit right next to him. He didn't mind it and again took a few more sips of the gin. 

Somewhere in-between them, his mind started to get paranoid about her presence. Was this being sent here on a bounty mission by Azrael? Or, was it him in disguise? His eyes narrowed a bit, and decided to test this out. Shifting himself to better face her, the vampire shook his head in rebuttal. "Afraid not. This is my first time here as well. Just on a little vacation from my chaotic home." Jarred downed the last bits of the blood and wiped his face clean of the crimson fluid. "Though I have heard that this place might have a little problem with vampires. Though I wouldn't worry much about it if I was you." He shifted back to pour some of the gin from the bottle. "In all seriousness, I haven't the foggiest clue about gangs or rogue officials. Only thing I fear that would come to this place is one man. And trust me, friend- that is one person you don't want around."  

Yavish was disappointed that this man was not as knowledgeable about Mamluk society as she had hoped, but it was to be expected from a newcomer like her.  She took a sip of her rum and her eyebrows raised when he mentioned that Mamluk may be experiencing an issue of vampires only to realize the sarcasm later on.  It left her mood rather sour though, as vampires were among the last creatures to joke about.  Even if it was a little quip, Yavish still felt that it was worth addressing and responded, "I would not take vampires lightly.  They can feed on the unsuspecting innocent and add them to their ranks."

Just the thought of a vampire ambushing and draining the blood of an innocent bystander was enough to make Yavish's blood boil.  She managed to keep her temper level though and listened to what the rest of the man said.  Concerning the new person that was mentioned, Yavish inquired, "Would this man be someone you owe a lot of money to?"

She noticed the red fluid in the man's other drink and believed it was wine.  Yavish returned her attention to the patron and dwelled on whoever was pursuing him.  If said hunter was a loan shark like she first believed, then there's a high possibility that they would employ a group to collect their debt.  Of course, said seeker could be something else entirely, but for now, unless the man said otherwise, the loan shark idea would be her strongest lead.  Either way, Yavish was prepared to throw down should they appear and begin harassing this man.  Extortion never sat right with her after all, then again neither did a lot of things that involved innocents being harmed.

Jarred watched her reaction attentively- a good part of him believed that she was just a bystander and had nothing to do with Azrael. Certainly didn’t act like him either but he remained weary enough to keep some guard up. “You are right. Typically children of the night will feed on others and add to the numbers. Innocent or guilty be damned just the same.”

If it was up to him, he would have fallen back to hiding in the highlands; that was if it wasn’t infested with tribes of werewolves who didn’t take kindly to those like him. And that was if the brutish warriors didn’t hunt him down first. Azrael certainly wouldn’t have thought that he would hide there twice, after all.

When he heard her question, he couldn’t hold back a snide chuckle. “I wish it was that simple. He is my master and seeks to bring me back into the fold, by any means. Been chasing me for years relentlessly.

“He’d do just about anything to retrieve me”, he spoke in a lower voice as he fidgeted around with the empty glass. He really hoped that at some point he’d be free, but which would give out first- his will or Azrael’s? His master was winning these mental battles as Jarred had to give into constant worry without the bastard even having to be at arm’s reach.

“Trust me, he’d see to burning everything around just to find me. Not a comforting thought, but one that continues to come to my mind everyday.”

Yavish drank more of her rum as she listened to the man's tale of his master and was disappointed that the pursuer was not a mere extortionist.  Either way, Yavish deduced that if someone was this dedicated to chasing a patron such as the one she was speaking to, then it was clear that he was quite valuable.  She looked toward her arms and felt nerves creep up in her mind.  Whatever it was this master wanted to do to him, she was determined not to let him be stolen back.  How she would handle that deck of cards however was another matter dependent on how they matched up.  If a fight was inevitable, then Yavish needed more information about this master before they crossed paths which she hoped they never would.

She set her half-empty mug of rum down on the table and remarked, "Burn everything huh?  Your master sounds like a psychopath."

Yavish stared around the bar to see if anyone out of the ordinary was staring at them.  For the most part it seemed that everyone was enjoying their conversations and their liquor, so she turned back to the man and inquired in a low voice, "Does your master have a particular set of clothing that he likes to wear?  Something that you'd spot easily?"

She glanced up at the other customers again before she returned to the man and asked, "What do you know of his abilities?  Is he a powerful magic user?  A skilled brawler?  I have a great deal of strength, but I can only accomplish so much with it.  If you're truly worried about him showing up here to take you back, then perhaps you could stick with me for the time being?"

Yavish hoped that whatever this poor man's master's skillset possessed was something she could deal with or perhaps find a workaround for.  She took another swig of rum as she awaited his answer.