In Quinn's Line, whorehouses were the best places for information, and the Viper's Den was the only place where prostitutes didn't try to upsell their services to the patrons of the 'drinking' side of establishment. It was classy, and classy meant separating sex and alcohol with the heavy end of a bouncer's club.

Also, when a den of iniquity allowed Gale to carry his sword in, they must have been pretty confident in their security measures. Flashes of steel inadvertently accompanied every move of a barmaid that focused the male gaze upon their cleavage, and the male workers too seemed likely concealed daggers in their thighs. Perhaps every employee within this place was armed, and they granted their customers the luxury of that.

But they didn't actually keep their weapons when having sex. He didn't know that personally, but Bailey told him.

"Why don't you go there and fuck someone? I ain't judging if it's a lady."

Gale flinched. The conversation ran through his head again. It was almost 2 years since he last saw Bailey, but this conversation always stuck out in his mind.

"Hell, a lady's better for you. No need of silphium or any of that nasty smelling herbs that those whores munch on to 'get the blood flowing out of their bits' again."

Gale recalled Bailey's hands performing finger quotes beside him. And Gale recalled his reply to him.

"Not interested."

"Ya'll be missing out on the best parts of life! Hell, I'll forge a medical certificate for you that says you're a man!"

"Not. Interested."

"Aw, you're no fun, Gale. Always a stubborn bitch."

The memory faded from Gale's surface thoughts, and the knight's eyes wandered to the doorway that separated the drinking side from the tavern side. A bulky man stood at the doorway, his lazy piggy eyes glancing into the distance. The fingers upon his right hand wrapped upon a club resting on the edge of the bar counter just beside him. He was bald, and wore only white cotton pants with brown boots, but the massive bulk he carried, likely a mixture of muscle and fat, was enough to scare any rowdy drunkards. He was the dumb muscle of the separation between whorehouse and respectable watering hole.

Just beside him, a bespectacled, wiry man stood, his fingers clasped and twitching together. With a balding scalp and a wrinkled face, Gale could see no weapons upon the man, nor did his posture inspire confidence in anyone, least of all the man himself. He was dressed in a smart black uniform that the very same butlers in his household once attired themselves in, but the perspiration from the man was thick enough to show up against black. The man was most likely able to read, and the brains of the operation. If anyone wanted a prostitute, they needed proof of their cleanliness.

Well, it wasn't his problem.

Gale turned to the bartender, not caring if it was a man or a woman.

"A beer, please," said Gale. He forced his voice deeper as he spoke. Being called 'Knight of Footstools' was an insult Gale adopted to signify his besting of knights far taller than him, but being called the 'Knight of Woman's Tone' wasn't going to help his case.

"He'a, bredda. Ju'a Long Stride Brew," Ma'Lynn said as she set down a mug of some kind of foaming drink down on a table in front of one of the patrons in her Den. She offered him a wink and a gentle pat on the shoulder as she passed, the bangles looped around her wrists and ankles jingling together with her movements. The wink, of course, wasn't sincere at all, but was just a ploy in order to con the man out of leaving a few more coins than normal as a tip. Common practice in the Den, but apparently something often welcomed as it was something that rarely ever failed, even for the other barmaids she'd hired to help keep the Den running smoothly.

Grinning a little bit to herself, Ma'Lynn took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet scent some of the hookas being smoked in the corner were emitting, infusing the Den with one of the only kinds of shisha that 'Lynn allowed to be smoked in her establishment, mostly because of its pleasant, calming scent. The smoke wasn't allowed to linger and hinder vision inside of the Den however, as various holes near the ceiling of the Den provided ample air ventilation. Just one more way 'Lynn kept her pride and joy accessible to all.

Unfortunately, it was a somewhat slow day. Middle of the week wasn't usually the best for business, but even then, that didn't keep the Den from pulling in quite a few heads to partake in its services. It wasn't packed, but there were enough people for a quiet buzz of overlapping conversation to be present, drowning out any one conversation from being heard unless someone listened hard enough.

Listen is exactly what 'Lynn did though. Grinning to herself, she slowly wandered the Den, picking out tidbits of conversation before stopping to occupy herself with something somewhere nearby where she could eavesdrop, sometimes even not even hiding that she was listening in--or, chiming in on the conversation herself before moving on to different pastures. It was a slow day, but it was a good day.

Eventually, her wandering and slowly looking around made her attention catch on something she'd seen all too often in her time as the Den's owner: there was someone sitting at the counter, looking over at the stairwell that lead to the brothel that was the second floor with what they thought was probably an inconspicuous glance. Probably either someone trying to figure out a way to con their way up those stairs, or possibly just embarrassed by the thought of being there. It was all too amusing to her, as she never really understood what the big deal was. She had something for everyone up there, as well as some very experienced and extremely "friendly" staff.

Meanwhile, as Gale turned to the counter and ordered his drink, a somewhat attractive--if mostly plain--brown-skinned woman was the one that took his order. Her eyes were a stormy grey with what looked like a hint of blue upon closer glance, and her hair was tied into three 'tails'--two on either side of her temple, and one tied at the back of her head. Her hair seemed to have been dyed a mixture of purple with burgundy highlights. "Fine. One 'beer' coming up," she responded with a sarcastic roll of her eyes before retrieving his drink. A moment later, she set a wooden mug down in front of him and said, "Stonebreaker Brew. If that's not what you wanted, I don't care; be more specific next time you order," she said, a little annoyed. "You opening up a tab or closing it out?"

But a moment after she asked that, 'Lynn approached with a quiet jangle of her bangles and seated herself next to Gale as she addressed the woman behind the bar. "Ca'aful, lil' Nightingale. Ju ain't gonna get any tips bein' dat snippety." This was then met with this supposed Nightingale saying, "Yeah, I know that, L, but half these guys expect me to be a mind reader! I may be good but I'm not that good," she grumped, an irritated pout on her face. 'Lynn giggled at that and shrugged. "It be ju'a livelyhood, If it were me, I'd apologize to de..." she paused, glancing over to Gale to openly eye him up and down once before returning her attention to Nightingale. "Nice man. Neva' know, ju might even wind up goin' home wit' him if ju play ju'a ca'ads right," she laughed, all while Nightingale rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm 'sorry' for my 'insolence', ser knight. Truly, what a fool I've been. I can only pray you can find it in your heart to forgive me," she said after, her words nearly dripping with insincerity.