Standing in front of the fiery big bed, Francis slowly straightened the bow at his neckline.
Under the pale skin of his face, the blood-red lips curved slightly, showing pale teeth and a satisfied smile.
The woman lying on the big bed behind him was also laughing. Although her eyes were closed, she smiled sweetly and happily, as if indulging in an unparalleled dream.
"Good night, my baby!"
Francis blew her a kiss, then strode open the door.
At this moment, the Peacock Flower Tavern is brightly lit.
In the lobby on the first floor, the Irishman who had been busy during the day was showing off his passion.
The bartender in front of the wine cabinet shakes the wine cup with dizzying hand speed;
The gamblers sat around the poker table, staring unblinkingly at the Gwent cards and the golden crown beside them;
Butterfly-like maids carried drinks back and forth in the hall. Occasionally, a furry hand stretched out from nowhere to touch her buttocks, and she scolded and smiled coquettishly.
"Boom—" The slender fingers of the authentic poet with the lute on the stage suddenly became faster, and the strings were plucked rapidly, like a trickle flowing into a river, the dullness in the hall was washed away, and the musicians shook the organ to respond and cheer. The rhythm jumps left and right.
The smell of wine, sweat, laughter, and dance music are intertwined into a blurred night.
Francis stood on the second floor condescendingly admiring all this, quietly opened his arms and closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
night
dancer's dress
why not take a nap
Taste this luscious spring
After reading a poem, he shook his head and was quite narcissistic. "Tonight is a good day. When inspiration comes, it can't be stopped!"
He descended the stairs through the crowd and headed for the tavern gate, twirling his fingers as he pondered the unfinished poem.
However, halfway through, an arm suddenly stretched out from the wine table to block his way, and a young man with dark pupils raised his wine glass to him,
"Your Excellency Coroner, have a drink together?"
"Oops... When did you come? I didn't notice it at all. It seems that I have been too addicted to beauty recently, which has made my perception so dull."
Francis sat down rather annoyed.
"Tell me, witcher, what's the matter with me all of a sudden?"
Roy pushed the glass full of wine to him.
"I'm just curious. You have such a good appetite. You have to face a pile of messed up corpses during the day and have fun at night. If you were an ordinary person, you wouldn't have such a mind at all."
Francis took a sip of the strong drink and grinned, revealing a mouth full of teeth.
"It's very simple. In my opinion... both the living and the dead have their own beauty that deserves to be written about in poetry. And the vibrant young flesh, and the art of death, can Provides me with constant inspiration."
"You are a passionate poet." Roy complimented.
"Of course, my identity is actually a poet first, and then a coroner. To me, poetry is the most beautiful thing in the world, more than anything else."
Francis said emotionally, his voice is full of emotion and penetrating, even in this noisy hall, people can hear it very clearly.
"Actually I have a piece of advice for you..." Roy said, "The connotation of your poetry and don't always focus on the living and the dead. You can open your eyes a bit and draw inspiration from other sources."
"Like?"
"Like nature, like architecture..."
"Isn't the most magnificent time of life and death..." Francis raised his chest, "Why should I choose those vulgar themes?!"
"Okay," Roy shrugged and said directly, "Actually, in my opinion, the living and the dead are quite different. It can even be said that they are no longer a species, a race."
"The difference is like humans and monsters..."
Francis put his arms around his chest and listened to him continue, "You see, corpses can cause genocidal plagues, diseases, may be turned into puppets of destruction by warlocks who study necromancy, and under certain conditions are enough to hatch and nourish evil spirits and corpses. Ghosts. A corpse is the enemy of the living, so to speak."
"Almost forgot that you're a witcher," Francis slumped in his chair sullenly. "How could a witcher have so much free time to come to the tavern to drink with me and exchange poetry. You're black and white, and I'm afraid you only see humans in your eyes. With inhumans, there are only those that can be killed and those that cannot be killed, right?"
"You can't agree with my ideas. But... do you want to correct an aspiring poet's mind with a few words?"
"No, no, no..." Roy smiled gently and said what he meant. "I just want to remind you not to indulge in death and corpses too much. Don't try to use death to please a living person."
"What do you mean?" The coroner suddenly stood up, and the gloomy aura on his body instantly became stronger. The drinker sitting next to them shrank involuntarily, as if suddenly hit by a biting cold wind.
Roy also stood up, drank the spirits in the cup, and exhaled happily.
"Recently I found a very interesting thing in Ellander. A non-human being fell in love with a 'noble' woman. And he did a lot of things to show his love, and he did a lot of ordinary people. Seemingly incomprehensible behavior. Of course, I don't mean dwarves or elves by non-human creatures."
"I've heard that the female night devil is 'in love' with a human male, but in fact, the stupid man is just used by the female night devil as a free puppet to provide energy; I have also heard of an ancient high-level vampire infatuated with A human woman, and then toyed with applause by this shrewd human woman."
"And now, Ellander, I think he loves more deeply and madly than the first two. For the sake of his lover, he even risked exposing his long-hidden identity and committed murders in a row."
"Mr. Senior Vampire... I'm not the kind of guy who just yells and kills recklessly. Now let's talk frankly, peacefully and amicably."
Roy's low voice was shattered by the noise and noise around the hall, but he knew that the person on the opposite side could definitely hear it clearly.
The guy opposite suddenly grinned at him, revealing two long canine teeth.
Under the juvenile observation, the dark gray energy behind Francis formed a humanoid bat with huge wings.
Francis
Age: Three hundred and ten
Occupation: Coroner, Poet
High-level vampire (it reveals fangs to you, your eyes pass through the blood-colored camouflage, and penetrate his essence, he is the topmost existence in vampires, different from the original kind, his behavior is closer to Humanity.)
life value:? ? (lack of perception)
magic:?
Attributes:
strength:?
agile:?
constitution:?
Perception: 18
Will: 9
Charisma: 7
Spirit:?
Skill:
Blood thirst? ? : High-level vampires do not rely on blood to survive, but they are addicted to blood. If they drink blood in battle, they will quickly heal their moderate wounds.
self-healing? ? : Garlic, flames, and wooden stakes are all ineffective against high-level vampires. They are very long-lived and have strong self-recovery abilities... Even if their hearts are taken out and their heads are cut off, they can slowly recover over time. Even if the individual is burned to ashes, it can be reborn after a long time.
To some extent only the same kind can kill high-level vampires.
Hypnotized? ? : High-level vampires use magic power to weave bewitching words, allowing the target to open their hearts and obey him.
Invisibility? ? : High-level vampires can change the color of their skin at will, integrate with the surrounding environment, and enter an invisible state that is difficult to detect with the naked eye.
Virtualization? ? : High-level vampires transform into a group of bats, evading attacks and moving at high speed.
Blood calls? ? : High-level vampires can compulsorily command nearby low-level vampire creatures: bats, vampire banshees, blood demons... to act as their thugs.
Blood forged body? ? : The high-level vampire liberates all power and transforms into a huge bat. In this state, all attributes are improved, it has the ability to fly, grows fangs and claws, and at the same time, it is full of the desire to kill and loses most of its sanity.
Insufficient perception to get more information.
"Gollum."
Roy's face became stiff.