A Night on the Town

The lingering scent of smoke had held fast to the grand city of Valore since the destruction wrought by the vindicators that fateful day only a week before. It was bearable now, to the point that Ze'ev hardly noticed it anymore, but the havoc and demolition that had reighned over Valore was the least of the spotted stallion's concerns. The poor soul was plagued by what felt like an incurable sense of boredom.

Ze'ev had expected the king and council and nobles and whoever else was rich and pompous enough the run the kingdom to make some changes in order to help the citizens reastablish a false sense of security (Honestly, did they think the vindicators would be detered by laws and politics?) but to put all pit fights on hold? Sure the crucible was a little...well...broken.
But they could at least come up with a temporary space! This was Ludicrous! They obviously hadn't considered the fact that they had just sentenced innocent little Ze'ev to an undetermined period of boredom. The injustice of it all!

The setting sun cast a luminous red glow across his Mistress's courtyard and he ambled between bushes and flower beds with an absent mind. What to do? What to do? Mistress Angelia was out on some errand or visiting friends or something...he wasn't certain as he had only lent her half an ear when she'd called a farewell down the hallway. Ze'ev leaned down to sniff at a late blooming iris, wrinkling his nose when the pollen invaded his senses.

He could raid the pantry of all the sweetest apples and pears and then claim he had been feeding the hungry if Angelia noticed they were gone? He shook his head, simultaneously shooing away a fly and discarding the idea. It lacked any excitement. He held back a snicker at his next fleeting idea. What if he kidnapped a neighborhood foal and held it for ransom? Now he was just being ridiculous.
The spotted stallion yawned and trod up to a thick shrub, noticing something peeking through the leafy branches. A ball.
He scuffed it free of the roots and rolled it beneath a striped hoof before giving it a solid kick. He watched as the hard leather creation flew into the air and over the brick wall encasing the courtyard (oops), landing somewhere out of sight with a solid THUNK followed by loud crashing and clanking. A surprised yell split the tranquill evening air and Ze'ev scrambled out of the courtyard and up the marble steps leading into the grand house. Whatever non-boring activity he planned to do this evening it would be far, far away from here.

That's when the idea struck him. Angelia wouldn't know if he was out...
He slipped into his room, a space plenty big enough to accommodate his many trinkets and shiny baubles. The curtains billowed as he hurried past them and knelt gingerly upon the soft, colorful pillows and blankets adorning his bed. His enchanted, magic supressing halter was noticeably worn, the leather cracking from exposure and creaky from overuse. He scraped one of the already threadbare straps against the sharp, carved out areas of a heavy wooden bedpost until it snapped, doing the same with two others. Then he worked the wretched contraption off by rubbing it against his knees, the walls, whatever worked. The broken bundle of leather finally fell from his face in a heap on the floor and he kicked it under a throw pillow. His mistress kept meaning to get him a new one anyway.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Ze'ev fled from his room, down the hallway and out the front door. He relished the way his head felt so much lighter, the cumbersome old bridle no longer marking him for what he was. He set his pace at an easy canter down the cobblestone road. He glanced down either side of the street, flanked by one grandiose house after another. There! He remebered Angelia pointing the estate out to him on one of their casual strolls. The house of lord Luciano. Also the owner of a pit slave. And Ze'ev happened to remeber the name she had given him. Illidis.

Knowing Mistress Angelia as well as he did, he assumed that she and the mysterious Lord living here probably knew one another's bedchambers like the back of their hooves. But that was idle gossip for another time. He slipped down the alley beside the house and walked alongside a standard brick wall, ducking and lifting his head in search of a way through, or in the very least a peek hole. He wasn't particularly wary of being caught. All the nobles and high ranked equines were hardly ever home since the attack on the city. They always seemed to be rushing off to meetings and other nonsense. With any luck this Luciano fellow would be out for the evening as well.

"Illidis!" Ze'ev hissed, keeping his voice down. "Illidis!" He called a little louder. To the spotted stallion's glee, he came across an ornate iron gate in the wall, the spaces between the bars revealing a courtyard not unlike his own. He stuck his velvety nose through a wide space, sniffing the air for any sign of the pit fighter. "Illiiiiiidiiiis!" He called, more loudly this time. His memory of the snake-like pit slave wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows (unless he compared him with Regina, of course). The other stallion had seemed passive enough, with a surprisingly mellow demeanor for a pit fighter. His only fault was siding with Regina's views, but unlike Regina he hadn't trampled him into the ground and nearly crushed his skull. On purpose.

When it came down to it, he knew where Illidis lived and his lasting impression of the guy had screamed something along the lines of "push-over" so Ze'ev was nearly certain he could convince the other pit fighter to go along with his evening plans to stave off boredom.