PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Maximiliano Belvidere road up to the tavern upon his black horse, slowly stopping by a lamp pole where he would tie the horse to. He then looked up at the Tavern. Just earlier this day he was here having a few drink. He walked up onto the wooden porch just before the door and stomps his boots to get any mud or anything off of them. Max opened the door and stepped in. His olive green eyes scanning over the few people there. He wouldn't really bother with introducing himself to anyone as they were only patrons of the bar. He would walk to the bar counters and lean over it looking over the many different types of liqueur. His hand reached out as he grabbed a bottle of Gray Goose Vodka and then pulled a few gold coins setting them behind the counter for whenever the keeper was back. He then turned and looked about the room a moment before picking a table to sit at. He was silent besides the sound of leather and metal upon his body and his boots thumping on the hardwood floors. He sat down on one of the wooden carved chairs sat down. Setting the bottle on the table he would adjust his belt a bit so it wasn't bothering him with causing his sword to stick up. Maximiliano took the bottle and bit the top of before taking a long drink from the bottle. He then set it down and closed his eyes as he could feel the rush through his body from the strong drink. He then leaned back and sighed a little opening his eyes again and staring off into one of the corners of the room silently.



Anyah Kutra trotted quickly up towards the tavern upon her valiant white steed. She smiled softly to it and pressed her knees into it's sides and pulled back on the reigns, slowing it to a halt. She rubbed it's neck lovingly and jumped off, tying it's reigns tightly to a horse's holding pole. She walks quickly into the tavern, with a cheery look within her eyes, despite the not too great happenings back at her camp. She wore her usual dark green skirt that hung loose on her hips, seemingly only held up with her gold chain/coin looping belt, which clinked softly with each step she made. Her beige well fitting mid-drift baring tank top hung close to her breasts, and accentuated and showed her bare and chiseled tan stomach. Her beautiful brown tendrils fell loosely down her back and shoulders. She slinked over to an empty table, and sat herself down in a chair, looking about at all who were there, with her keen fox-like eyes. Her gaze fell upon Maximiliano...not only for his looks, but he just seemed...interesting.

The Roman Soldier was silent as he stared. Though soon his hand moved to the bottle of Vodka again and lifted it from the table and too his lips. He tilted it up and let its strong liquid pour into his mouth. Slowly he put the bottle down upon the table. He would look back to the group of three talking before his eyes caught the glowing beauty, Anyah. He watched her silently a moment before he looked to his table. He didn't do anything else. Was he going to? "Perhaps talking to someone would be nice in this cold land?" Max thought to himself. He then would sigh sitting up straight and then kicking a chair out some so that she could sit if she wanted, and to accent his invite he would look back to her.



Anyah smirked softly as something shone in her eyes...a glint of an old playful mannerism that had never died within her, perchance. She stood slowly, and once again, her belt clinked with each step she made. A soft rustling of her skirt at her feet and on the ground, the ever so light thud of her sandaled footsteps upon the floor, only seemed to add to the gracefulness of everything about her. Her deep green eyes watched Max closely. She would notice the chair and as she neared him, her gait became slowed and she would lift a delicate hand to run it through her long tendrils, some of which fell back into her face, casting an enigmatic shadow upon her face...even still, her eyes seemed to shine through. By the way she was dressed, she was definitely of a Gypsy clan, or something of the sort. A Romani, as some would call her. She opened her soft reddish lips to speak, and out came a pure, beautiful voice, tainted wonderfully by a Romanian accent, "Ho there! Mind if a lass such as my self joins ya’ for a drink?" she winked playfully, obviously not caring whether he said no. She sat down in the chair he had kicked out for her, and rested her hands upon her lap. Up close, she was even more captivating than ever...but at the same time, more mysterious, enigmatic even.



Something...no…someone of more importance had caught the Persian male's attention, and someone being the Romani female only right across the room from his own specific location. Sanguine glowing twins would lock upon such beauty and the hint of a nod could be noted as beneath his hood would be the slightest dip in cranial structure. For the moment he would remain in silence, watching the Romani woman with his feature to remain hidden even now. What thoughts would be terrorizing Raven’s mind were of his own accord...locked away from any telepathic means of reading, or view in a sense, however his gaze alone would prove to be a certain hint of interests for the face of which those sanguine glows laid upon was directly in his view with apparently nothing in between to wither his sight at all.

Maximiliano watched her as she sat down. He said nothing for the moment then he opened his mouth leaning forward. "I suppose you can." By all means, he being roman and part of a military unit he should have her hanged just because she was clearly a gypsy, though he honestly didn't care about what he should do, or what the emperor told him to do. He did as he pleased. His hand moved to the bottle as he took another deep swig closing his eyes a moment before setting down the bottle. "But what is it you will drink?" he asked. His Italian accent was not too strong and not to weak, it was just right. He crossed his arms watching her through his black hair. What would she do? Drink off his Vodka? Get her own? Maybe tell him to get her something. He pondered over the many options the woman could have at the moment.



Anyah grinned widely as she stretched backwards somewhat, extending her torso, and showing off her great abs. though that was not what she meant to do. She silently popped her back and returned to her comfortable seating position. She glanced upwards as if playfully pondering what she could do, or how she could react to his question as to what she wanted. She eyed his Vodka carefully, she always liked her vodka. She sighs softly before speaking again, "I think I'll have..." without even finishing, she reaches out and quickly grabs hold of his Vodka and takes it closer to her own self. She winks playfully and seductively as she lifts it to her lips and drinks the powerful alcohol from it's container. She let it flow down her throat from her mouth as she swallowed and set the bottle down, closer to him once more. She let out a soft contented sigh, as she locked her gaze onto his. She began to get that eerie feeling of being watched...but she shrugged that feeling off, as if it were a mere fly bothering her. she laughs softly to herself, though it was almost too soft to hear, Max would probably hear it's rich tones. She truly was an extraordinary girl. She once again spoke with her infamous soft lulling voice, "And what, pray tell, is your name, dear heart?" the question wasn't whether his name was Dear Heart, she had just chosen to call him that for the moment.

He watched the girl think and ponder to herself. A grin forming on his lips as she would lean forward and grab the bottle and drink from it. He watched her as she drank. When she set the bottle near him he wouldn't pick it up to drink off it as he already had quite a few shots from the bottle and should wait awhile. He listen to what she asked of himself and his grin faded to his normal expression. "Maximiliano Belvidere. Lord of the emperors armies. He shifted and sat up straighter, his arms still crossed.



"She's a Romani alright.." Raven said, Whispering to himself again, idle chuckling would follow before silence captured his lips once more. Without much to do the Persian one would merely remain in his position against that wall, the slight movement of his arms crossing at the center of his broad chest evident beneath that cloak's shroud but only did it conceal the rest of his body in such a motion before he continued to observe the Romani and her companion once more. The scent of black orchids thickened in the oxygen around him as he would lean more into comfort against that wall without further sound to escape his presence. Contemplating an approach, he would shrug lightly, this hinting the sheathed weaponry upon his back that shrug had straightened his swords beneath that cloak to bare his the fact of which he was armed, but without reaching for them he would bare no hint of violent intent at all, something perhaps rare of what he was but of course of all his race he was truly the unique.

The gypsy's eyes widened, as if a great fear had struck her heart. Many thoughts flooded through her already troubled mind. Emperor? Roman Emperor? Not good...not good at all... she thought silently to herself...she had gotten a sour taste in her mouth, brought on by the sudden fear of her situation. she knew that the Romans disliked any Gypsies...and that she was not known as anything but that. A gypsy. A romani. She glanced down somewhat before looking back into his eyes, trying as best as she could, to hide her imminent fear of him. "The...the Roman emperor?" she asked in earnest...stammering over her words for a moment. She had a bad history with people of any armies...especially the Roman ones. The fear, however, seemed to add to the small amount of innocence she still held within the depths of her wonderful green eyes.

He nods. "Though don't get me wrong. I am lord of his armies but in no way his timid slave of war." He said sternly, making it clear he was his own man and had no 'real' emperor. His green eyes would have caught any signs of fright in the girl. As many didn't like the Romans if they were not one themselves. Though even that Romans hate the system. A system which in one day began to rule the world. He smiled a little to her. "What is your name?" He asked. He let his arms fall. One rested on his knee, the other on the table itself.

Anyah felt a bit more at ease, and she let out a soft, inane laugh out from her mouth, every sound she makes, seemed to have some sort of a musical quality. She quirks a finely shaped brow, as if thrown off by his inquiring her name, she actually had to think for a minute before answering! "My name? My name, is Anyah Kutra...of the old Kutra clan." she said old, meaning, they were no longer existent. Though she as accepted within another camp, she still considered herself part of the Kutra Clan. She always had, and always will. She smiled softly and spoke once again, a bit more freely than she had, as well as taking the nerve to add a bit of a seductive tone to her carefully chosen words, "It is a great pleasure...to have gained your acquaintance, milord." she said the last word with a sarcastic tone, with little respect in any aspect of her words. She curtsied playfully, as best she could whilst still sitting. Obviously joking about, trying to see if he had a sense of humor, as well as good looks. A soft, genuine smile crept to the corners of her soft child-like beautiful lips after speaking. She held a strange twinkle in her eyes, almost as if saying that she was up to something, yet the look was too innocent. Or was it?



All but the three remained in the tavern now, an unusual trio of strangers however Raven’s attention had finally been removed from that of the Romani woman and onto the Roman Maximiliano with a hidden smirk to emerge beneath the confines of his hood. Amused he was at the company here, but remaining alone against that secluded wall across the room from them both, a mild chuckle would smoothly escape as sanguine glows would close and yet his ears would remain intent on their conversation as if confiding in the voiced of which they spoke through. A tilt of his cranium to the left and then to the right brought about a loud popping of his neck, this followed by another chuckle before silence. No further movement would be made and his eyes would never open from this point on, ~No...not without reason~ He thought to himself as he continued to listen in on the converse between the Romani and the Roman soldier.

Maximiliano nods a little to her words. "Indeed. And it is a pleasure, to be in the presence of such a beautiful, Gypsy." He knew what she was apparently. His eyes stayed locked on her before he had another drink. What was a Roman like himself doing here could be the question of many. Was he here with an army for some business, or had he come and already did the business he was to do and is just enjoying his short stay before leaving. He leaned forward before taking the Gray Goose Vodka in his hand and taking another shot from the bottle. Max then leaned back silent as he watched her.

Anyah gasped somewhat as a soft crimson blush crept itself into her cheek, giving her face an even more, ALMOST innocent glow. She found that she could not stop smiling...how could this Roman get to her? she did not know...but she wanted to find out. she cleared her throat to speak, but hesitated...for once, she did not know what to say. After a few moments of deliberation on her part, she opened her mouth again and spoke clearly, yet a bit more softly, having noticed others enter the Tavern. "Have you anything against us, Maximiliano?" her words seemed to simply roll off her tongue with little effort, and a great amount of beauty. She watched him drink the Vodka, and smiled. It was good stuff, that Grey Goose brand. She smirked playfully as she brought her chair closer to him, and he leant forward, crossing her arms over her knees, holding herself up, or at least her top portion. One of her brows was raised just slightly more than the other, adding a sense of sarcasm to her look.

Maximiliano watched her as she gasped. Though he didn't grin or smile he simply remained as he was before. He smiles a little to her question before he almost frowned. "I don't hate the person but I hate the people." The point on view on people was of course weaker then that of the person. A man may hate a race for their beliefs but love the person for their personality. He pushed the bottle towards her some with the hand on the table before he leaned back crossing his arms again. He paid no mind to anyone else in the pub, he was focused on Anyah for the moment. Though who knows what lingering sense bites at him telling him of every movement and sound in the place.

Anyah nodded, she understood what he meant. She felt that way towards the Romans, but she seemed to enjoy the company of this man. She too had lost focus on the others, and she tuned out any other conversations that may have been going on at the time. Her gorgeous eyes kept locked on his own...as if she were trying to see deeper than the surface...as if she were trying to figure out this enigmatic, and handsome Roman. Figure out what he was all about...she failed at doing so. She bit her lower lip just slightly as she reached for the bottle of Vodka. She once again, lifted it to her lips and poured the strong liquid into her mouth, letting it flow down into her throat...she set it back down onto the table with a soft thud as she grinned widely. She lowered her eyes, unsure of what to say...she was actually caught off guard by the man, his personality, his way of speaking, and especially, his looks. Her eyelids were half closed, and remained that way, even as she peered up into his eyes, as if saying something mentally to the both of them, unspoken secrets and desires and so forth. Though she knew that he would not care about her petty dreams and aspirations, fears and hope, as well as her girlish and inane fantasies. She winked playfully at him, trying to get a reaction out of him...something to go on.

Maximiliano smiles watching her drink more of the vodka. Though the smile soon faded as she watched him intently. He didn't do much, not even to the wink she gave him. He was about to say something when a man barged into the Tavern. Maximiliano looked over at the man, as soon as he noticed the mans attire he knew who he was. The man was a Persian soldier. As soon as Max stood the man had already gotten an arrow out and at Max. Max forgot about his sword a moment as he watched the arrow come at him and he moved like water letting the arrow lodge into the wall. He then grinned as he drew his sword and then kicked a table at the guy before he let another arrow fly, it caused him to loose the arrow and distract him as Maximiliano quickly dashed through the isle of tables and then slide holding the sword behind him till he was close enough and then he quickly brought it forward and gripped it with two hands; lodging the roman short sword into the mans gut. He finished by turning the blade Vertical and then jerking it out. He then stepped back and watched the man fall forward and onto the ground. His blood pouring from within his body. He just watched the man in silence, blood dripping off his sword to the ground.



Black orchid scents began to thin but slightly in his presence here, and there would be that distinct aura to radiate in vibrant feeling amongst the company here the moment that some sort of confrontation had occurred. This aura...it was so dark and yet so calm and the mysterious Persian man would push quietly away from the wall but not step any further than such, his cloak almost seeming to ripple as though the origins of wind had risen within the tavern without any such delay. The scent of vitae would cause the half opening of sanguine glowing twins as he would now stair directly into the blade of the Roman's sword, the hint of jaw-line feature could now be seen as his cloak rippled further more while he would simply observe the blood dripping from the blade and then there was the idle sway in his entire structure as he would wonder forward silently, and slowly without a fear of the roman and or his wielded weapon. What could be the cause of this sudden awakening in action within the Persian male could only be so utterly obvious...he was not human, and this would bring about the reason of why he hadn't at all gone for the bar since he had arrived a while ago. No words, nor even the hint of a breath taken…the rippling of his cloak would come to an abrupt end as well as his movements just two feet from the Roman as he would reach out with a half dark leather wrapped hand, tanned digits caressing the length of the bloodied bladed for the feel of freshly shed vitae as soon to be lifted up under his hood, where the silent tongue cleansing of his fingers would take place without a sound to follow, nor movement even.

She would move aside quickly, eyes widened at the events occurring between the Persian and Max. Her heart was pounding...the last time she had witnessed blood shed, it was on her account. She became very light headed at the sight of it all...stupidly she stood, or tried as best as she could to do so, and clutched her hands to her breast, as if trying to calm the rampant beating of her startled heart. She made her way slowly towards Max, with her eyes on the Persian man...her mind was blank...and at the same time, crowded with hundreds of thoughts, that not even she could understand. She walked slowly, yet swiftly...if at all possible. Her belt clinked once more with each of her dainty steps. She finally stood fairly close to Max, her body just barely grazing his arm...the one without the sword within its grasp. She removed her hands from her breast and placed one on either side of his body, both his chest and back. The hand that lay on his chest, seemed to dig into his shirt just slightly...her gaze now fell upon the Persian man…and all the blood that seeped from his body…such a horrid thing for her to see, especially at this age. She watched the man, of whom she identified as the one who had been watching both her and Max. She watched him seem saddened by the death of a comrade, she closed her eyes, not wanting to see a pitiful sight such as him stroking the length of the man’s body, and his face, as if he knew the dead man. She couldn’t take that.

The Roman Soldier who was Max, watched the body on  he ground in silence, thinking it seemed. He couldn't feel Anyah's hands on his chest because of his armor but he knew they were around him. He would stand there a moment before he would kneel down and search the dead Persians personal pouch. He found a letter, which he took and put into his own personal pouch. Perhaps taking it to send the note back to his wife or family. He then looked around the room a moment and then to Anyah. "I need to leave, it isn't safe here anymore."

"The blood of what once was my people...so tainted over the generations....hmmph.." Mysteriously Raven spoke in merely a deep whisper, Persian accent honed in ancient sense it seemed. His arm would draw that hand from amidst his masking hood, no long was the vitae upon tanned digits as a true sign that he had licked such from them. Sanguine glowing twins continued to observe the blood of the slain Persian soldier…'So weak the mortal was.' He thought to himself as he would now watch as the Roman soldier withdrew the letter from the corpse's pouch and placed it within his own. Not a movement but other than sanguine glows as he observed the two before him but even so he would await the reaction to the familiar but more honed Persian accent of his own from the Roman, knowing well that their kinds had been enemies for centuries passed. However, this one was not the typical of Persian soldiers from this era, no...not in the slightest it seemed and even that sanguine glow of twin hues would prove this, had they been noted at all that is. Awaiting the reaction such things was not a hard task for the likes of this one, for patience was a virtue as was one of his best outstanding features.

She looked up for the first time in what seemed like ages into Max’s wonderful eyes. Sorrow and confusion filled her own. “Now? Why? Where are you going?” she implored him, she wanted to know…she had grown fond of this Roman soldier over their short time of their knowing each other. Call it silly, but she had actually grown attracted to him. She faced him completely, almost forgetting about the other Persian man, now behind her. She placed both hands upon his chest as she looked up at him. She seemed to beg him not to go, with her eyes…truth is, she didn’t want him to leave, not in the slightest bit. This beautiful, intoxicating Romani woman, was willing to risk anything, just so that she would have the satisfaction of knowing that she would at least see him once more, before her time on this earth ended…which was never a sure thing. She stood on her toes almost, to where their faces were mere inches apart. He would feel the warmth of her soft scentless breath upon his face as she stood silent.

Max would watch Anyah, Though he soon backed up and turned walking through the door quickly stepping down the stairs and moving to his horse, untying it. Max mounted the horse and road fourth into the dirt road, looking both direction seeing if anyone was on the roads that may get in his way.

"So Persia and Rome are still at each other's throats....When will they grow up?" Once again the cloaked male would be caught speaking to himself in that deep Persian accent as the hint of movement beneath the masking hood would bare the shaking of cranial structure as he let his arms both lower at his sides. "Romani...If you choose not to be alone then follow…you will see him again…I am sure of it." and then to the door as he began to follow the Roman's lead and take leave with only few words left behind. With that he was out of the tavern, and onward onto the path leading toward the west.

Anyah would linger on him for a moment more, before letting him simply run off to his horse…she lowered her eyes and turned around to face both the dead man and the other Persian. She nods to them in what seemed to be an almost respectful manner, before she too turned and ran swiftly towards the door and outside to her Steed, Scout. Of whom she untied her complicated knot out of the reigns and lifted herself atop him. She sighed heavily and looked at the still wide open door of the tavern before pressing her heels into Scout’s side, signaling him to turn and run as fast as he could back to her camp…back to her life of boring oddities and menial jobs. Scout did as he was told and turned, and began to gallop away. Anyah’s hair flew back behind her like a thick dark cloud that followed her wherever she may go whilst on the horse.