"Oi! Vikas!" The surly voice of a dungeon guard croaked at him as he lay in a state of half-conscious. He rolled over, now fully awake, he shielded his eyes from the sun that came in through the gaps between the bars of his little cell.

Vikas Tyr, a man who spent most of his time in dungeon, particularly the cell he was in. He'd often joke about posting a doorman there for his regular visits. It was usually every second or third night he was thrown in. But, luckily for him, he was a friend of the kingdom and he had drank with many of the guards.

His cell creaked open and he got up, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes. "You were bloody rolling drunk last night, Vikas."
Vikas snorted and laughed, "Now, now Crumley, I'm often rolling drunk."
"Right you are there, right you are."
Vikas spoke in a sharp tone, his words formed perfectly and never slurred, unless he was as drunk as he usually liked to get.
Such an odd man he was, a finely spoken gentleman, an accomplished swordsman and bard and a highly sought after lover. It was he who loved the Queen behind the King's back.
It was he who loved her gently so as to keep it in her mind of what a real man was like. The King never discovered their annual liaisons and as it turned out, he never would.

He was taken to a small room outside of the dungeon, where his personals were handed back to him.
One long-sword attached to a belt, which Vikas Tyr promptly placed around his waist in very belt-like fashion.
One necklace - a simple chain with a pendant from the Queen dangling from it. He'd received it shortly before she hung herself. He'd never cried for her, his type never did.
Whenever questioned on the subject he would launch into a tale of his trip to the Nine Isles. Of course, this was true, his thirty years of life had seen him many places.

"I suppose I'll see you some other night, eh, Crumley?"
"Right you are."

Vikas Tyr strode through corridors, looking for the bathing room. His hair was horribly matted and he spied some vomit in a cluster of strands.
He eventually found what he was looking for. An alluring young Maiden came to his side to fulfill her duties, helping him out of his white, vomit-stained tunic, then his tight - oddly not stained pants - from his legs, until he was bereft of clothing.
He climbed slowly into the water, it was a deep bath. Like that of a lake, he dunked his head underneath and lingered for a moment, before coming back up.
"Will ye be needin' any other services?" The same alluring young maiden asked, her voice as voluptuous as her figure.
Vikas Tyr leaned against the wall of the bath, a smirk crossing his face as he knew what these services were.
"Not today. For this particular morning, I'll do with the water and the sun. Though, your regular services will be required."
"Very well, then."

Within a half-hour, Vikas Tyr was cleaned, dried and dressed once more, this time in clean, fresh clothes. A white-tunic tucked into a pair of tight black leather pants, his feet fitting snuggly into a pair of black boots.
His long-hair tied back into a tight pony-tail with a strip of leather that dangled down with his hair.
He was quite a handsome man, you either loved him or hated him.

He strode leisurely through the castle halls, wondering in vain if he'd be summoned today.
The young Queen, he had never loved her and was sure she had no interest in him or any of his talents. But he couldn't be sure and he wasn't sure.
But he loved the idea of the challenge. Perhaps he'd accept it, his mind and other regions of his body all told him to, but as a lover to many, self-control was too easy.

He pushed open too large wooden doors, coming into a waiting room of sorts, looking over each man who looked as he did, each finely cleaned and pampered.
Vikas Tyr was an age ahead of them. None of these men had ever loved the Queen, let alone any Queen of any kingdom. They hadn't loved a woman from each of the Nine Isles. They were the hopefuls, but Vikas could tell, by looking at each one, that they were hopeless.
Except the seated young lad. He seemed different...out of place with it all. As if plucked from another realm. The rest reeked of Nobility, he however exuded a simpler aura.
Vikas Tyr spent longer moments sizing him up before he took a spot over by the wall opposite the young man, every now and then casting a glance over his way.

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