The ever presant chill was not a matter of issue for a Void to be concerned with. However, the other living things in the room were never fully comfortable. Especially the girls that were running around in short dresses and metalic collars. The more experianced girls had learned how to move around and not have it affect them as much. Behind the bar stood a black uniformed figure. A heavy utility belt of some grey mesh material hung heavily upon his hips. His arms folded behind him as he watched the girls perform their duties.

Vile auburn eyes caught the movement from the door as the Void stepped through, and approached his bar. As the girls were busy, he stepped forward and spoke. There was a darkness in his voice that seemed to drip with violence and death. "Welcome to the Chainned Inn. I am Travanix, owner of the inn. What would you like today?" As his senses weren't telling him much, his eyes and ears would have to fill in the rest.

He turned to a girl that was near the kitchen. "A bottle from rack 21." He turned back to the Void at the bar. He listened to her speak on.

The dark form studied her a moment. He turned as the girl who was sent after the bottle. "I think you will enjoy this. It is something I serve in general to the undead."

He poured a small amount of the blood looking fluid into a wine flute, then pushed it gently in front of her. "Tell me what you think?" He offered a dark smile.

"The wine is actually comprised of the syphoned blood from girls that were taken in various ages and times. This was the request of one client a few years ago. I have continued the practice to keep my options open with the undead." He looked around then back to her. "The inn has been opened for 10 years this April." He watched her still.

She seemed to be asking too many questions, and considering he's already had issues with the 'law', he had no desire to repeat it here.

"I have continued the practice for nearly seven years now. It keeps the undead customers entertained. The inn is a haven to that which society rejects and condems. It is not simply a hobby, but a lifestyle." He watched her eyes.

"Legality is not an issue here, and if it were, it would not be. The Watch and the city guard are so corrupt that only true crime rates their attention. Anymore, the city cannot afford to hire the personel needed to keep the numbers flush, let alone with any sort of combat skills that are required to stop slaving in a city this size."

"You say you have been around slavers once before. How long was that for?"

He smirked as she talked. "Limits are meant to be broken. I often excel past my own. Even now. I have been in the business for 20 standard years. Still, I find new ways to torment, torture and break my targets. Few can withstand my trait." He stepped around the bar, taking a silver mug in hand.

"If by some chance, they do, they still serve, they are still mine. They simply serve in a new capacity that they never thought was possible."

He turned to the nude band that was chained to the wall as they began to play one of his favorite tunes. "Tell me, my dear." He says, turning back to her. "What was the deciding factor to come in here. I do not often get visitors, needless to say, I do not get female visitors."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her response. "I am not sure many, even the slaves, would call this home. These walls have heard many a scream, seen many a girl lose herself here under the pressure of pain and torture." He looked at the walls, the cages dangling high up in the rafters. He looked back at her. "You were serving in tavern for slavers before you turned. Were you a slave, or an employee?"

He was digging. There was something he suspected she was not telling him. But with Voids, he wasn't sure.

A very loud scream being cut off seemed to be the only sound wafting out of the kitchen and into the common room in the few moments preceding Lord Pol?s arrival. As silent as ever, he pushed his way through the double doors leading from the kitchen with his shoulder as his hands were busy with a now bloody towel. His hands finally clean of the sticky substance he tossed the towel under the bar into one of the ?busser bins? before coming to stand behind Travanix and the? ?Void? that seems to have ventured into the lion?s den. He quickly fixed himself a tankard of black ale and moved back around to the other side of the bar to take a seat near the two, but not right next to them.

?Travanix? Someone that you would like to introduce to me??

His head turned slightly to the right, just far enough for him to be able to take in this new arrival with the senses that were left to him.

He shook his head. Voids, so predictable. "Lyren, this is my associate, Lord Romax Pol." He took a sip of his ale. "Tell me, Romax, did you at least clean up the mess you left on the floor before you came out here, or did you leave Rouel to do it?"

The kitchen troll would only make it a bigger mess if given have the chance.