#dronia

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Haarlep sat inside the dingy, old tavern, the scent of piss and alcohol suffocating his keen nostrils. But there was the scent of others. Mortals. Immortals. Blood. Sweat. Excitement.

A place where devils could show their faces and no one dared to care, or even demons if they were willing. Haarlep would feast upon those if they dared enter his territory.

Sniffing one particular new patron, the incubus slunk his way over to a table which had one man passed out and laying in a pile of his own drink and drool.

"The earth chokes on bitter wine, from a cup that will never run dry," he whispered with a grin at his lips, pearly white fangs peaking from behind.