To simply call Dion's a 'bar' is a bit of a misnomer, truth be told. Dion's was no more a bar than Fort Knox is a bank. Leave it to the god of wine and debauchery to never do anything small.
Dion's was a hub in the entertainment world, where god and mortal alike would come to unwind. And, as one would expect, Dion's was located in the heart of Las Vegas, Nevada - the Sin City itself. As Aeolus walked through the front doors, he immediately saw the influence of the Dionysus he knew... and, in a strange way, it made him feel slightly better about the god's fate.
Naked women danced on tables and on poles, writhing in faux erotic passion. Slot machines, blackjack tables, and roulette wheels littered the other side of the bar, as people got more and more drunk. Beautiful, half-clothed waitresses delivered tall glasses of wine to gambling tables and the adjoining strip club as the patrons lifted their glasses, involuntarily paying homage to Lord Dionysus.
As Aeolus, dressed not in his noble robes, but rather in an Armani suit, surveyed the Dionysian temple, on either side of him, Sthenno and Medea looked on in varying degrees of disgust.
"Typical male fantasy," the sorceress quipped, shifting her briefcase in her hand. She was dressed in a typical black business suit, her hair pulled back behind her head, the white streak running through the center the only sign of age. "Objectification of women, coupled with massive consumption of alcohol. Utterly shameless."
"There is no need for such finery," Sthenno agreed, her gloved hands pulling her floor-length coat around her. On her head, she wore a white shawl with a pair of dark sunglasses over her eyes and a fine scarf to cover the lower half of her face. "These people are soft and weak. Were a true menace to confront them, they would likely piss themselves and wallow in their own drunkenness."
"Which is exactly what Dionysus would prefer," Aeolus spoke up. "He once told me that there was a certain security that came from these activities."
"And yet, a vulnerability," Sthenno countered.
"Indeed, Forceful One," Aeolus ceded. "Therein lies the paradox of the god of wine. And now, to find our host..."
The three deities made their way over the bar area, where a portly, smiling man served drinks to the people who sat around. Aeolus took a seat at the bar, Medea and Sthenno standing behind him, almost as though they were acting as the Wind King's bodyguards.
"Excuse me," Aeolus said, raising a finger to attract the bartender's attention. The old man turned, revealing a cropped white beard across his ruddy features. "I seek to do business with the proprietor of this establishment. Might I speak with him please?"
The bartender's jovial face suddenly fell serious. "Good sir, I regret to inform you that our founder Dion Bacchus is unavailable at this time. May I ask who it is that wishes to know?"
"I have been called many things by many people," Aeolus answered. "At present, I am known as Lord Aeolus, keeper of the Four Winds. I wish to speak of a matter of pressing importance and haven't time for tact or formalities."
The bartender's eyes widened and his demeanor immediately changed. As the Pantheon looked on, the man's eyes aged suddenly, belying wisdom of many years... wisdom enough to teach the gods themselves "As I said, m'lord," he spoke, his voice slightly older, "the proprietor is not here. Perhaps, you could speak to the manager?"
"Perhaps," Aeolus said, observing the man with curiosity. "And who might that be?"
"Myself," he said, bowing his head. "These mortals know me as Sal, but when I taught lord Dionysus in the ways of the vine, I was known as Silenus."
"The satyr?" Medea spoke up, arching her brow. "Surely you jest?"
"I assure you, my lady, I do not," Silenus said setting down his bottle on the bar. "In fact, all the male employees of this establishment are satyrs as well. All of us owe a debt to Dionysus."
"And the women?" Medea asked, her indignant spirit becoming noticable.
"The Maenads, my lady," Silenus replied.
"Do you know what has happened to... Dion Bacchus, Silenus?" Aeolus asked.
"I must confess, sir, that I do not," the satyr barkeep answered. "It has been a long time since he abandoned this temple to aid our Pantheon in a matter of pressing importance. I have not heard from him since."
Aeolus' expression became grim. "Then we have much to discuss," he answered with a nod. "Could we withdraw somewhere more... secluded?"
"Very good, Lord Aeolus," Silenus answered. "Allow me to call one of the Sileni to take my place and we will withdraw to the 'Jazz Room'. There is a booth there where we will be able to discuss our business in full."
Aeolus nodded as the aged satyr bowed slightly and scurried off to get 'back-up' at the bar.
"Are you certain about this, Aeolus?" Sthenno hissed. "If he does not know of the whereabouts of Dionysus, how can he tell us the identity of the Dark One?"
"Perhaps he cannot," Aeolus answered simply. "Then again, perhaps the Dark One attempted to make contact with... Mr. Bacchus before the Olympus massacre. Either way, the weeping god did not lead us here for naught."
"Says you, Aeolus," Medea said, leering at the dancing Maenads on their poles. "Says you."
