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[IC] Cancel my appointments, I've been sold into slavery.
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WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
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7 yrs ago
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
It went without saying that Aleksandra Belikova was shocked to wake in a castle. She was not a person who frequented any buildings at all, much less a castle. But there she lay, half naked and covered in silk sheets, squinting at the sliver of light hitting her face from the window in the corner of the room. The light made her head throb, and her limbs felt heavy as she sat up and covered her bare chest with her arms. Everything still felt hazy, which reminded her that she’d been drugged.
How humiliating, she thought, recalling the events leading up to her capture. She’d been riding for the coast of Noxus, hoping to catch the last of the trade ships back to Ardany. Her horse was skittish and she’d been in a foul mood, and hadn’t seen the ambush coming. Normally, three poorly trained men with shoddy weapons would pose no problem for her, but her unpreparedness combined with their determination had been her downfall. She had killed one of them, at least. She could vaguely recall the occasional boot in her stomach whenever they came to feed her, but nothing beyond that.
She turned her attention to more pressing matters. Her inconvenient nudity, for starters. She was bare-chested and wearing some thin silken undergarments, which would certainly not do. She swung her legs out of bed and stood. As her left foot touched the cold marble floor, she felt a sharp, familiar sting in her heel. She pulled up her foot to look, despite already knowing what was there. Inked crudely into her heel was the word SLAVE. She let her foot drop with an irritated sigh. Anyone one else would have been horrified to discover they’d been marked as someone else’s property, but she’d learned long ago that someone or something always owned her, whether they were aware of it or not. Her past, the thrill of the fight, and slavers, of course. She’d been marked for slavery once before, but she’d escaped after one of the slavers foolishly untied her for a meal. She’d gotten a much larger tattoo to cover the slave mark, a pattern of swirling flames that covered her foot and crept up onto her thigh. Maybe she’d get creeping vines if she escaped again.
She chose not to dwell on who else might own her. Though the morning was warm, being half naked didn’t seem any more appealing. She spotted a man’s shirt lying on the floor, so she scooped it up and pulled it on. Then she began to explore her surroundings. She went to the window first, knowing she’d glean the most information by looking outside. She drew back the curtains, letting the sunlight in and blinding herself in the process. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, letting herself get used to the light. Finally, she took her first look. The castle itself was made of standard grey stone, with endless windows and a massive wall surrounding it. She could see a town spread out over the rolling hills at the base of the wall, and in the distance there were purple-grey mountains, mostly just blurs on the horizon. So, still Noxus. She'd been in the royal castle twice before on contracts, but she didn't recognize which wing she was in. No matter. She'd figure it out and escape in due time.
How humiliating, she thought, recalling the events leading up to her capture. She’d been riding for the coast of Noxus, hoping to catch the last of the trade ships back to Ardany. Her horse was skittish and she’d been in a foul mood, and hadn’t seen the ambush coming. Normally, three poorly trained men with shoddy weapons would pose no problem for her, but her unpreparedness combined with their determination had been her downfall. She had killed one of them, at least. She could vaguely recall the occasional boot in her stomach whenever they came to feed her, but nothing beyond that.
She turned her attention to more pressing matters. Her inconvenient nudity, for starters. She was bare-chested and wearing some thin silken undergarments, which would certainly not do. She swung her legs out of bed and stood. As her left foot touched the cold marble floor, she felt a sharp, familiar sting in her heel. She pulled up her foot to look, despite already knowing what was there. Inked crudely into her heel was the word SLAVE. She let her foot drop with an irritated sigh. Anyone one else would have been horrified to discover they’d been marked as someone else’s property, but she’d learned long ago that someone or something always owned her, whether they were aware of it or not. Her past, the thrill of the fight, and slavers, of course. She’d been marked for slavery once before, but she’d escaped after one of the slavers foolishly untied her for a meal. She’d gotten a much larger tattoo to cover the slave mark, a pattern of swirling flames that covered her foot and crept up onto her thigh. Maybe she’d get creeping vines if she escaped again.
She chose not to dwell on who else might own her. Though the morning was warm, being half naked didn’t seem any more appealing. She spotted a man’s shirt lying on the floor, so she scooped it up and pulled it on. Then she began to explore her surroundings. She went to the window first, knowing she’d glean the most information by looking outside. She drew back the curtains, letting the sunlight in and blinding herself in the process. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, letting herself get used to the light. Finally, she took her first look. The castle itself was made of standard grey stone, with endless windows and a massive wall surrounding it. She could see a town spread out over the rolling hills at the base of the wall, and in the distance there were purple-grey mountains, mostly just blurs on the horizon. So, still Noxus. She'd been in the royal castle twice before on contracts, but she didn't recognize which wing she was in. No matter. She'd figure it out and escape in due time.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aulfr marched down the stone corridors, decorated with tapestries and paintings of various 'important' people, places, and events. One's travels through the Oberjarl's wing of Castle Noxus were normally plagued with servants asking if their masters needed anything, guards watching attentively from their alcoves, and pages and the like rushing past, passing orders from one place to another. The entire castle was designed with military in mind- corridors curved, entrances were small gates, scattered sparsely, and all the windows were barred and designed to allow archers to fire out, and to repel the fire that erupts from the clay grenades that are sometimes used.
As he approached his room, set at the end of one of the few straight corridors in the castle, he pulled an iron key from his belt, looped with leather twine wrapped tightly with copper wire, to prevent it from being knicked. As he approached his door, a thick, iron-studded oak, he revealed the key from its small special pocket, and inserted it into his lock. A moment later, he shoved open the door, pulling the key out as he did so and taking a step back from the doorway. A moment later, he saw that there was no ambush since the occupant of the room was standing in front of his window on the opposite wall, and stepped full inside. He reached out with one hand, and dragged the door shut again- where he, again, not taking his eyes off the woman occupying his room, locked it, and hid his key away.
He studied her, as he slowly paced towards her, taking in her effort at modesty, putting on the shirt he had left on the floor, for exactly that reason. There was an almost painful height difference- she was rather short compared to the average, and he was rather tall compared to the average. She was much slimmer, as well, especially since she was wearing a not-so-modest bit of underwear, and one of his far larger tunics.
He walked up, stopping well within's arm reach of her. He was expressionless, until one side of his mouth curved upwards, and he said, "Well, what do we have here? The guys that brought you in said you were running for the coast. Ardany spy, perhaps?" He crossed his arms, but it was unmistakable how he left them loose- he was ready to react in an instant.
He paused, then continued. "My name is Aulfr Volsung. Welcome to the Oberjarl's Wing in the Castle Noxus." And then he reached out, seeming slow, seeming like he wasn't rushing his movement- and yet his hand was clamped on her shoulder in an instant, like snakebite. Firmly held, he pulled her towards him, where he picked her up, without any effort at all, it looked, and held her in front of him as he walked to the nearest wall, next to the shining light rushing in from the open window. He shoved her against the wall, and brought her up, staring into her eyes, face-to-face.
Suddenly the pressure on her shoulder was gone- a moment later, it was on her neck, pinning her even harder against the wall. The other hand was holding on to her, above her waist and hips, just below her ribcage, shirt bunched up on top of his hand.
He made certain that she could breath; then he growled, "Now you are going to tell me who you are, why you look like a pureblooded daughter of the higher caste of Ardany, and why in Bjorlog you decided to trespass into Noxus. And then, you're gonna want to give me a reason why I shouldn't throw you out my window, or use you up 'till you're a broken husk."
As he approached his room, set at the end of one of the few straight corridors in the castle, he pulled an iron key from his belt, looped with leather twine wrapped tightly with copper wire, to prevent it from being knicked. As he approached his door, a thick, iron-studded oak, he revealed the key from its small special pocket, and inserted it into his lock. A moment later, he shoved open the door, pulling the key out as he did so and taking a step back from the doorway. A moment later, he saw that there was no ambush since the occupant of the room was standing in front of his window on the opposite wall, and stepped full inside. He reached out with one hand, and dragged the door shut again- where he, again, not taking his eyes off the woman occupying his room, locked it, and hid his key away.
He studied her, as he slowly paced towards her, taking in her effort at modesty, putting on the shirt he had left on the floor, for exactly that reason. There was an almost painful height difference- she was rather short compared to the average, and he was rather tall compared to the average. She was much slimmer, as well, especially since she was wearing a not-so-modest bit of underwear, and one of his far larger tunics.
He walked up, stopping well within's arm reach of her. He was expressionless, until one side of his mouth curved upwards, and he said, "Well, what do we have here? The guys that brought you in said you were running for the coast. Ardany spy, perhaps?" He crossed his arms, but it was unmistakable how he left them loose- he was ready to react in an instant.
He paused, then continued. "My name is Aulfr Volsung. Welcome to the Oberjarl's Wing in the Castle Noxus." And then he reached out, seeming slow, seeming like he wasn't rushing his movement- and yet his hand was clamped on her shoulder in an instant, like snakebite. Firmly held, he pulled her towards him, where he picked her up, without any effort at all, it looked, and held her in front of him as he walked to the nearest wall, next to the shining light rushing in from the open window. He shoved her against the wall, and brought her up, staring into her eyes, face-to-face.
Suddenly the pressure on her shoulder was gone- a moment later, it was on her neck, pinning her even harder against the wall. The other hand was holding on to her, above her waist and hips, just below her ribcage, shirt bunched up on top of his hand.
He made certain that she could breath; then he growled, "Now you are going to tell me who you are, why you look like a pureblooded daughter of the higher caste of Ardany, and why in Bjorlog you decided to trespass into Noxus. And then, you're gonna want to give me a reason why I shouldn't throw you out my window, or use you up 'till you're a broken husk."
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
(('Ardanian' is a good term for someone from Ardany. Noxan works for Noxus. I'm still working out Xiang-Bao and Banti.))
Aleksandra turned to the door as it swung open, falling into a half-crouch instinctively, her muscles tense. Whomever walked through that door had purchased her for obviously deviant reasons, and she had to be prepared to defend herself. To her absolute dismay, it was a man easily twice her size, and no doubt much stronger than her. She'd have to stun him and run instead of actually fighting. But as he approached, she couldn't see any sign that he was about to molest her. No leering grin or smirk, no lecherous look in his eye. What she did see was concealed anger, determination. And before she could reply to him, she was in the air, wriggling around and cursing in her native tongue. She was about to give him a mouthful when suddenly, she found she could breathe quite a bit less than before.
Immediately, her hands were on his wrist, but she held herself back from hitting the pressure point that would numb his hand. She couldn't let him know she was a fighter, since he already thought she was a spy. And harming him in any way was a death sentence, and that was if she was lucky. So she played the weak act, grabbing at his wrist with a fear that she didn't have to pretend at. "Please, your Grace. I'm not a spy. I'm a storyteller and a seamstress." Thank the Saints that both of those things were true. When she was waiting for contracts or had no leads, she made money by telling stories in taverns, mostly the ones about herself, the Fourth Devil as people liked to call her. Of course, no one knew it was the Devil herself telling the stories. She liked adding fuel to the ever-growing mix of rumors on what she looked like and why she hunted criminals. And as a seamstress, she made cloaks for hunters that broke the shape of the wearer into shadows. She'd learned the technique from a man in Genta who called it camouflage. "I've been in Noxus for two years, your Grace. I figured it was time to head home to see my family. My father could be anyone, seeing as my mother worked in a brothel. I just wanted to go home and see my Nan." She let tears well up in her eyes.
Aleksandra turned to the door as it swung open, falling into a half-crouch instinctively, her muscles tense. Whomever walked through that door had purchased her for obviously deviant reasons, and she had to be prepared to defend herself. To her absolute dismay, it was a man easily twice her size, and no doubt much stronger than her. She'd have to stun him and run instead of actually fighting. But as he approached, she couldn't see any sign that he was about to molest her. No leering grin or smirk, no lecherous look in his eye. What she did see was concealed anger, determination. And before she could reply to him, she was in the air, wriggling around and cursing in her native tongue. She was about to give him a mouthful when suddenly, she found she could breathe quite a bit less than before.
Immediately, her hands were on his wrist, but she held herself back from hitting the pressure point that would numb his hand. She couldn't let him know she was a fighter, since he already thought she was a spy. And harming him in any way was a death sentence, and that was if she was lucky. So she played the weak act, grabbing at his wrist with a fear that she didn't have to pretend at. "Please, your Grace. I'm not a spy. I'm a storyteller and a seamstress." Thank the Saints that both of those things were true. When she was waiting for contracts or had no leads, she made money by telling stories in taverns, mostly the ones about herself, the Fourth Devil as people liked to call her. Of course, no one knew it was the Devil herself telling the stories. She liked adding fuel to the ever-growing mix of rumors on what she looked like and why she hunted criminals. And as a seamstress, she made cloaks for hunters that broke the shape of the wearer into shadows. She'd learned the technique from a man in Genta who called it camouflage. "I've been in Noxus for two years, your Grace. I figured it was time to head home to see my family. My father could be anyone, seeing as my mother worked in a brothel. I just wanted to go home and see my Nan." She let tears well up in her eyes.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aulfr drilled his eyes into her own, trying to determine whether or not she was lying, faking, manipulating, or otherwise being dishonest with him. His grip started slowly tightening, slowly cutting off her air supply, slowly bruising her, before he suddenly released her. He watched her crumple to the ground, standing impassively above her.
Crossing his arms, he took three large steps backward, giving her room to get up- a mercy that many abusive people didn't give. He was no less hard, but he did not wear his emotions this time around. No anger, no coldness, just a hard stare.
"And so you say that you have nothing that I can benefit from except your body, is that it? A seamstress and storyteller. How useless- I am far too busy to listen to mere tails, when I'm off making my own, and I have the best seamstresses in Noxus, and some of the best from other countries besides."
He snorted derisively, now clearly disbelieving. "A simple, lone woman doesn't travel this land for as long as you have without being skilled at something- you can keep the barbarians of this land from you with stories or a nice pair of socks. Believe it or not, Noxus has its ways of keeping track of interesting persons- and a lone, traveling woman is rare. Very rare, especially a foreign, beautiful woman who starts crying- but when I walked in, you had the poise of a hunter. Of a fighter."
He uncrossed his arms, and this time, one hand rested on the handle of his handaxe.
"So would you like to tell me if there is anything other than your body that is of use to me?"
Crossing his arms, he took three large steps backward, giving her room to get up- a mercy that many abusive people didn't give. He was no less hard, but he did not wear his emotions this time around. No anger, no coldness, just a hard stare.
"And so you say that you have nothing that I can benefit from except your body, is that it? A seamstress and storyteller. How useless- I am far too busy to listen to mere tails, when I'm off making my own, and I have the best seamstresses in Noxus, and some of the best from other countries besides."
He snorted derisively, now clearly disbelieving. "A simple, lone woman doesn't travel this land for as long as you have without being skilled at something- you can keep the barbarians of this land from you with stories or a nice pair of socks. Believe it or not, Noxus has its ways of keeping track of interesting persons- and a lone, traveling woman is rare. Very rare, especially a foreign, beautiful woman who starts crying- but when I walked in, you had the poise of a hunter. Of a fighter."
He uncrossed his arms, and this time, one hand rested on the handle of his handaxe.
"So would you like to tell me if there is anything other than your body that is of use to me?"
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aleksandra was only seconds away from giving in and breaking his wrist when he finally let go of her. She pushed aside the pain and let herself breathe for a few moments, trying to focus on what he was saying to her. She was near-fluent in Noxan, but it was the hardest language for her to translate seeing as it was so entirely different from Ardanian. It was so much softer and fluid than her own language. An odd contrast to the people themselves, who often acted like barbarians in her opinion.
She didn't stand up when she was able to. Instead, she looked up at him and didn't bother to hide the calculating look on her face. She couldn't tell him outright that she was the vengeance-driven vigilante that every kingdom in the civilized world wanted to imprison. But she could tell him enough to keep her from being raped. But what would she say to him? Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, actually staggering against the wall for a moment, feeling lightheaded. She could already feel the bruises forming on her throat, but bruises were like bug bites to her. After regaining her balance, she turned to him and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I'm very good at being invisible when the need arises, your Grace. And I already know a few very interesting things about your father's court that might be beneficial to you. I'm afraid I can't reveal my sources. And, as you've already surmised, I know how to defend myself. Clearly, as I'm covered in scars and none of them fatal." She did have scars everywhere. Nicks all over, especially her hands. A white line bisecting her lip from being punched, a slightly crooked nose. Peeking out from the collar of her commandeered shirt was a light burn scar that continued all along her right half. She had whip marks down her back and cuts all over her legs. Her body was a battlefield all it's own. "I can act as your servant and as your informant, if you'd give me the chance. Since I don't suppose you'd take to the idea of just letting me return home." She'd figure out a way to escape eventually. She just had to give the prince and the guards time to relax around her.
She didn't stand up when she was able to. Instead, she looked up at him and didn't bother to hide the calculating look on her face. She couldn't tell him outright that she was the vengeance-driven vigilante that every kingdom in the civilized world wanted to imprison. But she could tell him enough to keep her from being raped. But what would she say to him? Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, actually staggering against the wall for a moment, feeling lightheaded. She could already feel the bruises forming on her throat, but bruises were like bug bites to her. After regaining her balance, she turned to him and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I'm very good at being invisible when the need arises, your Grace. And I already know a few very interesting things about your father's court that might be beneficial to you. I'm afraid I can't reveal my sources. And, as you've already surmised, I know how to defend myself. Clearly, as I'm covered in scars and none of them fatal." She did have scars everywhere. Nicks all over, especially her hands. A white line bisecting her lip from being punched, a slightly crooked nose. Peeking out from the collar of her commandeered shirt was a light burn scar that continued all along her right half. She had whip marks down her back and cuts all over her legs. Her body was a battlefield all it's own. "I can act as your servant and as your informant, if you'd give me the chance. Since I don't suppose you'd take to the idea of just letting me return home." She'd figure out a way to escape eventually. She just had to give the prince and the guards time to relax around her.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aulfr eyed her, watched her get up off the ground, watched her stumble and struggle. He was suspicious before, but now, he was wary, and expecting more from her. Either way, he decided to give her a chance. Most of the maids and servants in the castle were loyal to his father first, and everything they saw, were told, or ordered ended up in his father's ears, and that would do no good when he decides to usurp him and take his position over.
But he couldn't just let her loose, it being that the traditional place to write slave was covered in tattoo- likely because she'd been a slave before. So she would not take kindly to being ruled over- but she'd already proven that she can act innocent and helpless. An actor, a thief, a spy, it made no difference. He had to have something over here, whether it be reward or punishment. And, normally, it'd be punishment. No one could make it far from him if they decided to run- but she was a runner. Smaller, faster, but weaker, more delicate. So he needed some kind of loyalty.
"Speak, and what do you want? I offer you a Royal pardon, and the possibility to be in the Noxan Hunter Corps if you serve me well enough, and prove that you can fight. Or, a bounty of gold. If you serve me until I am Oberjarl of Noxus, and my position is secure. Then you'll be free, and pardoned from anything you have done in your time here."
Thunderously, he asked, "Do we have a deal? Or do you want something different?"
But he couldn't just let her loose, it being that the traditional place to write slave was covered in tattoo- likely because she'd been a slave before. So she would not take kindly to being ruled over- but she'd already proven that she can act innocent and helpless. An actor, a thief, a spy, it made no difference. He had to have something over here, whether it be reward or punishment. And, normally, it'd be punishment. No one could make it far from him if they decided to run- but she was a runner. Smaller, faster, but weaker, more delicate. So he needed some kind of loyalty.
"Speak, and what do you want? I offer you a Royal pardon, and the possibility to be in the Noxan Hunter Corps if you serve me well enough, and prove that you can fight. Or, a bounty of gold. If you serve me until I am Oberjarl of Noxus, and my position is secure. Then you'll be free, and pardoned from anything you have done in your time here."
Thunderously, he asked, "Do we have a deal? Or do you want something different?"
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aleksandra listened, her lips twitching into a smile that she just couldn't hide. Telling some of the truth had gone better than expected. At most, she'd probably only have to stay in this castle a year or so. She knew how ambitious the son of the Oberjarl was, and figured that with her as his informant, he'd soon grow antsy enough to make a move for the throne. Her grin grew as he mentioned a royal pardon. For once, her luck had turned.
She gave him a nod in answer to his final question, then swept low in an overly exaggerated bow. Bowing was typically for men, but her curtsying was horrendous. So bow she did, her eyes never leaving the prince's. Her irises were the intense blue-grey of Noxan steel. "I am at your service, Prince Aulfr. My name is Alexia Rayt, and I would be honored to serve as your spy, assassin, and informant." She figured there was no reason to act small now, so she drew herself to her full height. She really was quite short, but her confidence and self-assurance made her seem bigger than she was. She also did away with her meek voice, favoring the way she normally spoke.
"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like something to wear, your Grace." Her true voice was low, velvety, and husky, made almost seductive by her Ardanian accent. "I know trousers aren't usually smiled upon when it comes to women in this country. Perhaps I could wear some hide leggings under a dress? I've seen other women dressed that way."
She gave him a nod in answer to his final question, then swept low in an overly exaggerated bow. Bowing was typically for men, but her curtsying was horrendous. So bow she did, her eyes never leaving the prince's. Her irises were the intense blue-grey of Noxan steel. "I am at your service, Prince Aulfr. My name is Alexia Rayt, and I would be honored to serve as your spy, assassin, and informant." She figured there was no reason to act small now, so she drew herself to her full height. She really was quite short, but her confidence and self-assurance made her seem bigger than she was. She also did away with her meek voice, favoring the way she normally spoke.
"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like something to wear, your Grace." Her true voice was low, velvety, and husky, made almost seductive by her Ardanian accent. "I know trousers aren't usually smiled upon when it comes to women in this country. Perhaps I could wear some hide leggings under a dress? I've seen other women dressed that way."
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
For a moment, his grip on the end of his axe tightened; it may have occurred to 'Alexia' that he was about to kill her, based on the look that suddenly entered his eyes. Had he not been in a foul mood that morning, he might've enjoyed the view the bow gave him, but he said nothing. He waited for her to straighten, holding her gaze evenly the entire time. Aulfr replied, then, "I am not your version of royalty. You will not address me as a Prince, or as 'your Grace.' You will address me as Volsung, and nothing else. Do not mock me. And if you are giving me a false name, then it will be a false name that will be pardoned and gifted- and you will find just how well I Hunt when I chase you down."
He pulled the longbow that he had strung around him off, and tossed it on his bed. His quiver, the top covered with a leather cap, followed right after, and so did his axe. He took a step forward, and barked, "Defend yourself, and prove yourself!" And then he launched a well-executed, full-force punch, straight at her- no roundhouse punches here.
He pulled the longbow that he had strung around him off, and tossed it on his bed. His quiver, the top covered with a leather cap, followed right after, and so did his axe. He took a step forward, and barked, "Defend yourself, and prove yourself!" And then he launched a well-executed, full-force punch, straight at her- no roundhouse punches here.
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aleksandra observed his posture with dismay, slowly sinking into her own half-crouch. He was going to make some move soon. He'd spoken of her proving she could fight. Obviously a little thing like her couldn't just go out and attack a guard for him. He intended to test her mettle himself. As he removed his weapons, she could feel the adrenaline start to flow through her, and a grin slowly crept across her lips. He was going to be a difficult opponent, but not impossible. She hadn't had such a challenge in awhile. When he threw his first punch, she barely had time to dodge it.
But dodge it she did. She let his momentum carry him past her, punching him once in the side and sending a sweeping kick to his back. Her kick never landed, because she slipped on another discarded article of clothing and crashed to the floor. She kicked out at his feet and rolled away before his next blow could land.
They roamed the entire room for the next ten minutes, trading blows until Aleksandra's lip was split open for the umpteenth time and she was covered in bruises. But she'd hurt him as well. A few very painful jabs at key pressure points, what she believed was a well-bruised rib, a few attempts at a kick to his groin that had to be sore by now. She found that she was laughing as they fought, the exhilaration of a worthy opponent too much to remain serious over.
But dodge it she did. She let his momentum carry him past her, punching him once in the side and sending a sweeping kick to his back. Her kick never landed, because she slipped on another discarded article of clothing and crashed to the floor. She kicked out at his feet and rolled away before his next blow could land.
They roamed the entire room for the next ten minutes, trading blows until Aleksandra's lip was split open for the umpteenth time and she was covered in bruises. But she'd hurt him as well. A few very painful jabs at key pressure points, what she believed was a well-bruised rib, a few attempts at a kick to his groin that had to be sore by now. She found that she was laughing as they fought, the exhilaration of a worthy opponent too much to remain serious over.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aulfr had both an advantage and disadvantage- his current outfit was two layers of leather armor and a layer of chainmail- a leather undershirt, the skirt of chainmail, and then the green leather armor. This meant that, for the most part, any jabs directly to him did nothing more than push him a bit. This also meant that he was getting hit more than he'd liked by the small, nimble little girl- who had found out that he didn't have such thick armor between his groin.
He had gone into a rage at first- unlike the rest of his people, he didn't lose his sense when he did, and just fought harder, faster. And then, when she started to laugh, his mood cleared like fresh flowing water. He laughed right back, a sound that hadn't been heard in the castle for years. None of the soldiers or guards were fit to fight against him- she was the first real challenge, in single combat.
But she was fighting in frilly underwear and a too-large shirt, versus his armored self. She wasn't going to win- but they had proved to each other who their next preferred sparring partner would be. And that no-win came in the form of a glancing blow to her shoulder, knocking her off balance, and the follow-up being a grab. Hand firmly planted on her arm, he swung her against the wall, trying to stun her- and then he shoved her towards the bed.
He disengaged then, taking a step back and declaring, "Alright. You passed." He didn't seem to care much about her state- the only thing he cared about was the 'throne' of the Oberjarl, and a couple more things that he had recently found, and would never admit. Either way, he crossed his room to his wardrobe, where he pulled out his key, inserted it into the oak wardrobe's lock, and unlocked the door. Repocketing his key, he pulled open his wardrobe to display a warrior's dream- all along the doors were knives, handaxes, swords, gauntlets and inside were pieces of leather armor, regular clothing, shoes, boots, heavy coats, everything he'd need, all stuffed into one.
Then he looked at his own clothing, and then at the relatively naked Alexia, and said, "Cut something up and make your own. You said you were a seamstress, no?"
He had gone into a rage at first- unlike the rest of his people, he didn't lose his sense when he did, and just fought harder, faster. And then, when she started to laugh, his mood cleared like fresh flowing water. He laughed right back, a sound that hadn't been heard in the castle for years. None of the soldiers or guards were fit to fight against him- she was the first real challenge, in single combat.
But she was fighting in frilly underwear and a too-large shirt, versus his armored self. She wasn't going to win- but they had proved to each other who their next preferred sparring partner would be. And that no-win came in the form of a glancing blow to her shoulder, knocking her off balance, and the follow-up being a grab. Hand firmly planted on her arm, he swung her against the wall, trying to stun her- and then he shoved her towards the bed.
He disengaged then, taking a step back and declaring, "Alright. You passed." He didn't seem to care much about her state- the only thing he cared about was the 'throne' of the Oberjarl, and a couple more things that he had recently found, and would never admit. Either way, he crossed his room to his wardrobe, where he pulled out his key, inserted it into the oak wardrobe's lock, and unlocked the door. Repocketing his key, he pulled open his wardrobe to display a warrior's dream- all along the doors were knives, handaxes, swords, gauntlets and inside were pieces of leather armor, regular clothing, shoes, boots, heavy coats, everything he'd need, all stuffed into one.
Then he looked at his own clothing, and then at the relatively naked Alexia, and said, "Cut something up and make your own. You said you were a seamstress, no?"
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
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7 yrs ago
((Was at a wedding. Home now. Gosh, this is exciting.))
Aleksandra was visibly disappointed when their fight ended. She wanted to keep going, despite how heavy hear limbs felt and her growling stomach. She was surprised she'd been able to fight like that. The drug that slavers had used was still in her system, so she'd been slower than usual, not as strong. She dragged her sleeve over her sweaty face, walking around the room as she came down from her battle high. She hadn't fought like that against just one person in three years. It left her feeling giddy and jittery, like she couldn't keep still.
She turned to watch Aulfr open his closet, and she swore she almost drooled. All of those weapons, armor, and the trousers. Would he really allow a woman to wear clothing like that? Most men in the castle would probably notice and make her wear something more practical, so she'd figure something out. Maybe a long sash to make it look more feminine? She padded over and grabbed two pairs of trousers, the smallest and most formfitting she could find, along with a few light scarves and another one of his tunics.
"I'll need a needle and thread, and I'm also not a cobbler, so I can't make myself boots." She looked very pointedly at his feet, the size of a giant's, and then her own, small and delicate as a child's. "None of your boots would fit me. But other than those things, I'll have these clothes ready before tomorrow. Are you sure no one will mind that your servant wears trousers? I can't do much to change them except take them in and add something that looks like a skirt."
Aleksandra was visibly disappointed when their fight ended. She wanted to keep going, despite how heavy hear limbs felt and her growling stomach. She was surprised she'd been able to fight like that. The drug that slavers had used was still in her system, so she'd been slower than usual, not as strong. She dragged her sleeve over her sweaty face, walking around the room as she came down from her battle high. She hadn't fought like that against just one person in three years. It left her feeling giddy and jittery, like she couldn't keep still.
She turned to watch Aulfr open his closet, and she swore she almost drooled. All of those weapons, armor, and the trousers. Would he really allow a woman to wear clothing like that? Most men in the castle would probably notice and make her wear something more practical, so she'd figure something out. Maybe a long sash to make it look more feminine? She padded over and grabbed two pairs of trousers, the smallest and most formfitting she could find, along with a few light scarves and another one of his tunics.
"I'll need a needle and thread, and I'm also not a cobbler, so I can't make myself boots." She looked very pointedly at his feet, the size of a giant's, and then her own, small and delicate as a child's. "None of your boots would fit me. But other than those things, I'll have these clothes ready before tomorrow. Are you sure no one will mind that your servant wears trousers? I can't do much to change them except take them in and add something that looks like a skirt."
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
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7 yrs ago
Aulfr just stepped back and watched her mess with his overlarge clothes, carefully considering the political ramifications. He mulled it over, as he observed her picking out what she wanted, before replying. "I'll see what I can do concerning boots. In the meantime- you'll be staying in here for a few days. I'll get the supplies, but once you're out, you better get what you need yourself. You'll be my personal servant, so you'll be staying the night in this room every night. And, no one will dare question you. I'll have to put my personal symbol on you- you'll be opposed otherwise."
He smiled, inwardly. The beautiful petite foreigner suddenly seen walking about in trousers and leather, doing a steward's work, whispers of her knife meeting enemies of Aulfr Volsung? It'll cause some ripples. Some will want to ally with him- others won't. And his new weapon will cement his power among them.
He let her pick out what she wanted, before he stepped forward and pulled out a relatively innocent-looking shortsword, its blade and most of its hilt hidden and buried in its scabbard. Drawing the shortsword, he revealed one of the rarest of Noxan swords- crafted by one of the rare, long-dead master blacksmiths of the Nox. The bluish blade with the slightly swirly-patterned steel, hilt inlaid with gems and trimmed with gold, ancient runes inscribed in the middle of the one-sided blade. Unmatched in strength- its said that it can break regular iron and even some weaker steel swords, and remaining sharper three times as long.
He let her eyes fall on the priceless sword- and then he rammed it home. "You know what this is. Remain loyal to me, and I'll see to getting you one of your own." He smirked at her, and then attached it to his belt- making sure it was strong and secure. Not many people could dual wield effectively enough to replace sword-and-shield or just a single double-handed sword- in the entire world- but if anyone could manage it, Aulfr could. A rougher handaxe, made for general use, and the beautiful, but hidden, Noxan mastercrafted sword, now at the Volsung's disposal.
"I'll come back with lunch. Try not to leave my rooms in broad daylight through my window- I'll have to kill you if anyone saw you. A pity that'd be, no?"
And then he walked out, leaving the criminal hunter to her own devices in a foreign room.
He smiled, inwardly. The beautiful petite foreigner suddenly seen walking about in trousers and leather, doing a steward's work, whispers of her knife meeting enemies of Aulfr Volsung? It'll cause some ripples. Some will want to ally with him- others won't. And his new weapon will cement his power among them.
He let her pick out what she wanted, before he stepped forward and pulled out a relatively innocent-looking shortsword, its blade and most of its hilt hidden and buried in its scabbard. Drawing the shortsword, he revealed one of the rarest of Noxan swords- crafted by one of the rare, long-dead master blacksmiths of the Nox. The bluish blade with the slightly swirly-patterned steel, hilt inlaid with gems and trimmed with gold, ancient runes inscribed in the middle of the one-sided blade. Unmatched in strength- its said that it can break regular iron and even some weaker steel swords, and remaining sharper three times as long.
He let her eyes fall on the priceless sword- and then he rammed it home. "You know what this is. Remain loyal to me, and I'll see to getting you one of your own." He smirked at her, and then attached it to his belt- making sure it was strong and secure. Not many people could dual wield effectively enough to replace sword-and-shield or just a single double-handed sword- in the entire world- but if anyone could manage it, Aulfr could. A rougher handaxe, made for general use, and the beautiful, but hidden, Noxan mastercrafted sword, now at the Volsung's disposal.
"I'll come back with lunch. Try not to leave my rooms in broad daylight through my window- I'll have to kill you if anyone saw you. A pity that'd be, no?"
And then he walked out, leaving the criminal hunter to her own devices in a foreign room.
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
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7 yrs ago
Aleksandra hardly paid attention to the sword. She had no interest in swords, seeing as it was one of the few weapons she had absolutely no skill in wielding. Her father had tried desperately to teach her, but daggers and the staff were her calling. She remembered the weight of her daggers in her hands and wondered sadly where they might be. Often, if the slave was carrying valuables upon capture, the slavers would let the masters judge whether or not to include it in the payment. Saints, her horse had been more valuable than every weapon and article of clothing in Volsung's wardrobe ten times over. A beautiful dappled grey Tirion river horse, the hardest breed to ride. One could never break or tame a Tirion horse. Caego would most definitely be in the castle stables if she looked there. She'd not be getting him back. And after all the trouble she'd gone to when stealing him, she thought with a sigh.
As for her daggers and staff, they'd been of fine make, along with her hand-painted wolf mask from Xiang-Bao. It was possible they were all in storage somewhere in the castle. She'd ask the prince once he returned. But until then, she had clothing to make. She crept to the door and peeked out, catching the attention of the nearest guard. He looked as if he might ask her to go back in, but she flashed a sweet smile at him. After charming him for a few minutes, she asked for a needle and thread. "Mending the master's clothes, I am." She got what she needed and then set to work.
She cut a few inches from the legs of both sets of trousers, and then one long rip down each side. Taking them in to fit her was easy and only took about an hour. She set the finished products aside and set to work on the tunics. They were a greater challenge, with more seams and more fabric. In the end she shortened the sleeves and bottoms, then cut out some panels in the backs and laced them with ribbons almost like a corset, but not as tight. She'd need some sort of cloak to wear when she was outside, but at least the clothing now fit and looked flattering on her. Almost at an afterthought, she sewed the colorful scarves she'd found onto the hips of the trousers until they looked like short half-skirts, feminine enough that she supposed she wouldn't be bothered.
She pulled on her new clothes and stood in front of a mirror sat in the corner of the room. She looked more like a woman than she wanted to, and the tunic was stretched tighter across her ample chest than was comfortable, but it would do for now. She could fight and walk and run in these clothes, and that was all that mattered. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at the skin of her back, exposed every inch or so by the ribbons. Her scars were easily visible, but if no one looked too closely they might not notice. She deemed her clothes to be satisfactory, then settled down in the prince's bed to take a nap. The drug the slavers had used was still in her system and she felt the need to sleep it off. She had nothing better to do, anyways.
As for her daggers and staff, they'd been of fine make, along with her hand-painted wolf mask from Xiang-Bao. It was possible they were all in storage somewhere in the castle. She'd ask the prince once he returned. But until then, she had clothing to make. She crept to the door and peeked out, catching the attention of the nearest guard. He looked as if he might ask her to go back in, but she flashed a sweet smile at him. After charming him for a few minutes, she asked for a needle and thread. "Mending the master's clothes, I am." She got what she needed and then set to work.
She cut a few inches from the legs of both sets of trousers, and then one long rip down each side. Taking them in to fit her was easy and only took about an hour. She set the finished products aside and set to work on the tunics. They were a greater challenge, with more seams and more fabric. In the end she shortened the sleeves and bottoms, then cut out some panels in the backs and laced them with ribbons almost like a corset, but not as tight. She'd need some sort of cloak to wear when she was outside, but at least the clothing now fit and looked flattering on her. Almost at an afterthought, she sewed the colorful scarves she'd found onto the hips of the trousers until they looked like short half-skirts, feminine enough that she supposed she wouldn't be bothered.
She pulled on her new clothes and stood in front of a mirror sat in the corner of the room. She looked more like a woman than she wanted to, and the tunic was stretched tighter across her ample chest than was comfortable, but it would do for now. She could fight and walk and run in these clothes, and that was all that mattered. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at the skin of her back, exposed every inch or so by the ribbons. Her scars were easily visible, but if no one looked too closely they might not notice. She deemed her clothes to be satisfactory, then settled down in the prince's bed to take a nap. The drug the slavers had used was still in her system and she felt the need to sleep it off. She had nothing better to do, anyways.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
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7 yrs ago
It had been sunrise when Aulfr had walked into his room to find his new slave; it was sunset when he finally returned.
His attire had not changed, except the soles of his boots were stained with the dark, fertile soil of the woods to the West, and his hair was tangled and less than a little neat. Half of his arrows were gone, and the cap of his quiver bounced against its home, hanging by leather thread. He didn't mask his entrance; he stomped right it, glancing at his new servant startling awake. He turned, and shut the door; as before, he slid his key in, and the door locked with a loud clunk! Satisfied that he wouldn't be disturbed now, he crossed the room to his open wardrobe, drawing his bow and quickly unstringing it- a process that took about a minute of straining, to release the drawstring and ease the pressure the bow would have. Stowing it next to two other like longbows, each made of a different wood- his original being out of oak, another being a paler willow, and the last being a much, much darker wood of an unknown origin- he glanced again at Alexia.
Undoing his handaxe's sheath, he dumped the both of them in the bottom of his wardrobe, and followed it with his Noxan mastercrafted sword, which he hung in its proper place. Finally turning his full attention to her, he surveyed her, taking in the notably enhanced womanliness of her, now in its custom work. After another long moment, he asked, "And so you'll be able to do everything required in that- run, fight, crawl, jump, everything? I certainly hope so. I want to test you tonight. Tomorrow, something real.."
He reached up, and pulled the green leather tunic off, shaking it off and tossing it out of the way, before doing the same with the chainmail- though he took longer and couldn't lift the entire weight of it at the same moment, due to its weight and the position of his arms. Finally pulling the entirety of it away, he draped it over one of his chairs, which sat next to the desk that sat next to his wardrobe, and then set about dropping the second pair of leather trousers that went over his wool ones.
Now dressed casually, with just his brown cloth tunic and thicker brown woolen pants, he put his hands on his hips, and stared at her again. Because of the requirements of his clothing to accommodate the two extra layers he usually wears, the tunic and trousers he was wearing now were somewhat tight-fitting, and his tunic was short-sleeved- based on the muscle alone, he was likely as strong as any of the elites of Ardany. He smirked, and pulled out his chainmail-laden chair, and took a seat. "That outfit will do perfectly. You might want to make more sets of it, though- next time we spar-" he hesitated for a moment, which was, if someone looked at every other time he talked to anyone else, extremely uncommon, "it'll likely be torn up a bit. In a couple days, I can let you out of my room to get what you need."
He crossed his arms, and jerked his head towards the window. "Nice to see you haven't tried to run away. You'll be leaving through the window; climb straight up, and I'm sure, fast and nimble as you are, you'll be able to make it to the hidden handholds, which should be fairly obvious when you get to them. Follow them; they'll take you to the roof of the castle. From there, infiltrate and return to my room. Knock three times, wait five seconds, and then knock twice." He waved at the windows, and said evenly, "Get to it, yeah? You can fight, but I don't know if you can get down here without being detected. Test number one. Should be easy enough, right now; my father has a pitiful guard compared to what I'd employ."
His attire had not changed, except the soles of his boots were stained with the dark, fertile soil of the woods to the West, and his hair was tangled and less than a little neat. Half of his arrows were gone, and the cap of his quiver bounced against its home, hanging by leather thread. He didn't mask his entrance; he stomped right it, glancing at his new servant startling awake. He turned, and shut the door; as before, he slid his key in, and the door locked with a loud clunk! Satisfied that he wouldn't be disturbed now, he crossed the room to his open wardrobe, drawing his bow and quickly unstringing it- a process that took about a minute of straining, to release the drawstring and ease the pressure the bow would have. Stowing it next to two other like longbows, each made of a different wood- his original being out of oak, another being a paler willow, and the last being a much, much darker wood of an unknown origin- he glanced again at Alexia.
Undoing his handaxe's sheath, he dumped the both of them in the bottom of his wardrobe, and followed it with his Noxan mastercrafted sword, which he hung in its proper place. Finally turning his full attention to her, he surveyed her, taking in the notably enhanced womanliness of her, now in its custom work. After another long moment, he asked, "And so you'll be able to do everything required in that- run, fight, crawl, jump, everything? I certainly hope so. I want to test you tonight. Tomorrow, something real.."
He reached up, and pulled the green leather tunic off, shaking it off and tossing it out of the way, before doing the same with the chainmail- though he took longer and couldn't lift the entire weight of it at the same moment, due to its weight and the position of his arms. Finally pulling the entirety of it away, he draped it over one of his chairs, which sat next to the desk that sat next to his wardrobe, and then set about dropping the second pair of leather trousers that went over his wool ones.
Now dressed casually, with just his brown cloth tunic and thicker brown woolen pants, he put his hands on his hips, and stared at her again. Because of the requirements of his clothing to accommodate the two extra layers he usually wears, the tunic and trousers he was wearing now were somewhat tight-fitting, and his tunic was short-sleeved- based on the muscle alone, he was likely as strong as any of the elites of Ardany. He smirked, and pulled out his chainmail-laden chair, and took a seat. "That outfit will do perfectly. You might want to make more sets of it, though- next time we spar-" he hesitated for a moment, which was, if someone looked at every other time he talked to anyone else, extremely uncommon, "it'll likely be torn up a bit. In a couple days, I can let you out of my room to get what you need."
He crossed his arms, and jerked his head towards the window. "Nice to see you haven't tried to run away. You'll be leaving through the window; climb straight up, and I'm sure, fast and nimble as you are, you'll be able to make it to the hidden handholds, which should be fairly obvious when you get to them. Follow them; they'll take you to the roof of the castle. From there, infiltrate and return to my room. Knock three times, wait five seconds, and then knock twice." He waved at the windows, and said evenly, "Get to it, yeah? You can fight, but I don't know if you can get down here without being detected. Test number one. Should be easy enough, right now; my father has a pitiful guard compared to what I'd employ."
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Fennec Sassy Book Slut
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7 yrs ago
Aleksandra startled awake at the very rude and thunderous noise the prince made as he entered. She didn't bother to hide her frown. He wouldn't kill her for being irked, so there was no point in hiding her emotions from him. She turned away when he shut the door, ignoring him as she went about waking up. There was a glass of water on the small table beside the bed, so she picked it up and rinsed the crusted blood from her split lip, and drank what was left to quench her sudden thirst. She was, in fact, ravenously hungry. Slavers didn't feed their slaves well, if at all. So that was a solid week she'd lost not knowing if she'd been fed. She was about to ask for a meal when she turned, and the sight of an unarmored Aulfr surprised her. He looked almost hideously normal without the leather and chainmail. Not to say he himself was unattractive, but if not for the imperious look on his face and the set of his broad shoulders, he'd almost look like a common farmer.
She stood up and stretched, listening blearily to him as he instructed her on what to do. Saints, she was hungry. And how was she going to climb the side of his castle with that drug still in her system and a belly growling so forcefully that she trembled? She shook her head and muttered a few creative insults in her own language, stretching again to loosen herself. She rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes, slapped her cheeks, and headed for the window. "If I die, I'm going to haunt you forever. I'll haunt your ghost," she grumbled, switching to Noxan. "And I won't be nearly as pleasant as I am now." She released the latch and stepped up onto the sill, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh, chilly air. It was autumn, and a night clear as glass. The stars exploded above her in a milky, colorful tangle of light. A perfect night. She glanced over her shoulder at the prince, then gave a sigh and began her mission.
Finding the hand-and-footholds was easy. It was clinging to the side of the castle on no food and drowsy limbs that was the challenge. Still, she'd climbed harder in worse situations, so she carried on. She slipped once or twice, but never far. She was sweaty and breathing hard as an angry bull by the time she reached the roof. She dragged herself a few feet from the edge and lay there, recovering her strength. She'd turned an ankle and her fingertips were raw, almost bloody. But it was nothing she couldn't live with. She sat up and massaged her ankle until she was sure it was just lingering pain from the suddenness of it. Then she pushed to her feet and walked along the roof, looking for a way in.
The prince's room was on the third floor, and she was just above the seventh of the main castle. The towers extended far above her, but those weren't important. There was no purchase on any of them, and no close windows to climb into. Several small chimneys, but all of them billowing smoke. She didn't fancy being burned to death. Although she was sure she'd taste delicious with a bit of spice. No, her only way in was through an open skylight above someone's room. They rest were closed, locked, or unable to open at all. She made sure no one was in the room before lowering herself in until she dangled by her hands, and then she dropped. She quickly rummaged through the objects to look for a weapon, but there was nothing useful. So she left, looking both ways in the hall before rushing to a shadowy alcove.
The next hour passed this way, with her sneaking past guards, hiding in small nooks and under beds, getting closer and closer to Aulfr's chambers. She had to keep stopping to rest, her lack of food causing her the occasional dizzy spell. She was becoming intensely aware of the strong scent of food the closer she got to center of the fourth floor, and was so relieved to see the kitchens that she almost cried. No one in the kitchens would rat her out, or even have time to pay attention to her. She stood near the entrance and waited. A serving girl hurried out carrying a platter on her shoulder piled high with meat pies. Hidden in the shadow of the door, Aleksandra nicked two of them with feather light hands. And so it continued with the next three servants, until she was full. She was still munching on her second meat pie when she knocked on Aulfr's door, three times and then twice.
She stood up and stretched, listening blearily to him as he instructed her on what to do. Saints, she was hungry. And how was she going to climb the side of his castle with that drug still in her system and a belly growling so forcefully that she trembled? She shook her head and muttered a few creative insults in her own language, stretching again to loosen herself. She rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes, slapped her cheeks, and headed for the window. "If I die, I'm going to haunt you forever. I'll haunt your ghost," she grumbled, switching to Noxan. "And I won't be nearly as pleasant as I am now." She released the latch and stepped up onto the sill, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh, chilly air. It was autumn, and a night clear as glass. The stars exploded above her in a milky, colorful tangle of light. A perfect night. She glanced over her shoulder at the prince, then gave a sigh and began her mission.
Finding the hand-and-footholds was easy. It was clinging to the side of the castle on no food and drowsy limbs that was the challenge. Still, she'd climbed harder in worse situations, so she carried on. She slipped once or twice, but never far. She was sweaty and breathing hard as an angry bull by the time she reached the roof. She dragged herself a few feet from the edge and lay there, recovering her strength. She'd turned an ankle and her fingertips were raw, almost bloody. But it was nothing she couldn't live with. She sat up and massaged her ankle until she was sure it was just lingering pain from the suddenness of it. Then she pushed to her feet and walked along the roof, looking for a way in.
The prince's room was on the third floor, and she was just above the seventh of the main castle. The towers extended far above her, but those weren't important. There was no purchase on any of them, and no close windows to climb into. Several small chimneys, but all of them billowing smoke. She didn't fancy being burned to death. Although she was sure she'd taste delicious with a bit of spice. No, her only way in was through an open skylight above someone's room. They rest were closed, locked, or unable to open at all. She made sure no one was in the room before lowering herself in until she dangled by her hands, and then she dropped. She quickly rummaged through the objects to look for a weapon, but there was nothing useful. So she left, looking both ways in the hall before rushing to a shadowy alcove.
The next hour passed this way, with her sneaking past guards, hiding in small nooks and under beds, getting closer and closer to Aulfr's chambers. She had to keep stopping to rest, her lack of food causing her the occasional dizzy spell. She was becoming intensely aware of the strong scent of food the closer she got to center of the fourth floor, and was so relieved to see the kitchens that she almost cried. No one in the kitchens would rat her out, or even have time to pay attention to her. She stood near the entrance and waited. A serving girl hurried out carrying a platter on her shoulder piled high with meat pies. Hidden in the shadow of the door, Aleksandra nicked two of them with feather light hands. And so it continued with the next three servants, until she was full. She was still munching on her second meat pie when she knocked on Aulfr's door, three times and then twice.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
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7 yrs ago
Aulfr opened the door, having already unlocked it half an hour beforehand. He gave his assassin a smile- proud, not mocking, or arrogant- and stepped back. "Come on in, miss if-I-die. I see you got something to eat. Didn't alert anyone, I hope?" He watched her walk in, this time not in a foul mood, or even feeling high and mighty on himself. Closing the door behind her- and relocking it- he reviewed what he knew about her.
"So, Rayt, how was your little expedition? I hope you got a better idea about the layout of the castle- you'll be needing that kind of information. Eventful, yes?" Taking a glance at bloody fingers, he frowned slightly- he'd need to get her some gloves. Leaving blood wouldn't do, and he didn't- he shut off that line of thinking before it even started.
Taking the few steps to his bed, he sat down and scooted his back against the headboard, comforted with his pillows. His bed wasn't a "king-sized" bed- rather, it would've been able to fit two normal people, or one extra small person and an extra large person, which was fortunate, and oddly convenient.
He made himself comfortable, before inquiring, "Where did you learn to fight? To sneaky-beak like you do? Certainly not something someone picks up along their travels. You're professional, skilled, and a natural at that, I think." Being a man, though, his eyes were drawn towards the skin showing through the gaps in Rayt's attire, when her back was facing him, and down from face to less polite areas, which, again, her attire seemed to enhance and highlight. Though, being the busy man he was, he did make quite a bit of effort to hold her gaze any time it was directed at him- he was too busy to screw around, both metaphorically and literally.
"So, Rayt, how was your little expedition? I hope you got a better idea about the layout of the castle- you'll be needing that kind of information. Eventful, yes?" Taking a glance at bloody fingers, he frowned slightly- he'd need to get her some gloves. Leaving blood wouldn't do, and he didn't- he shut off that line of thinking before it even started.
Taking the few steps to his bed, he sat down and scooted his back against the headboard, comforted with his pillows. His bed wasn't a "king-sized" bed- rather, it would've been able to fit two normal people, or one extra small person and an extra large person, which was fortunate, and oddly convenient.
He made himself comfortable, before inquiring, "Where did you learn to fight? To sneaky-beak like you do? Certainly not something someone picks up along their travels. You're professional, skilled, and a natural at that, I think." Being a man, though, his eyes were drawn towards the skin showing through the gaps in Rayt's attire, when her back was facing him, and down from face to less polite areas, which, again, her attire seemed to enhance and highlight. Though, being the busy man he was, he did make quite a bit of effort to hold her gaze any time it was directed at him- he was too busy to screw around, both metaphorically and literally.
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Fennec Sassy Book Slut
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Seen
7 yrs ago
Aleksandra stuffed the last of the meat pie in her mouth and executed a playful little bow, as if to say 'Yes, I know I did very well and you may shower me with praise.' She swallowed the gravy-filled pastry and straightened, raking her unruly black waves from her eyes to watch the prince settle into his place on the bed. "Some noble will be wondering where his cherry tart ran off to, but I don't believe anyone noticed me lurking. I'll make a cloak to help me blend with the shadows." She tugged at one of the ribbons tying her shirt closed, letting the three inches of fabric hang open, and used the ribbon to tie her hair back as she approached the bed. After a moment of eyeing him hesitantly, she sat down and leaned against one of the bedposts.
She thought for a long while about how to answer him, staring out the window at the nebulous sky. He probably already had some small inkling as to who she might be, her vengeance-driven persona at least, but she wasn't about to tell him about her father or her long ago past. She decided on some of her adventures. "I've been homeless since I was a young girl. Living out on the streets, I learned very quickly that stealing was the only way to survive. I learned how to pickpocket, how to rob people blind. I ran a street gang for awhile in Astra." Street gangs were common for orphans. Often the eldest, the teenagers, rounded up the strongest kids and began smuggling and stealing and even killing if they were skilled enough. She'd been the leader of the strongest street gang in Ardany's capital. She'd had to run away after her brothers caught wind of her whereabouts.
"I had some soldiers teach me the basics of defending myself, and when I had to leave the gang I decided on Genta. My ship was attacked by pirates, though." The pirates were one of the biggest problems of sea trade. Most of the sea dogs were Gentan, and Genta itself was the origin of the exploding black powder used in their odd weapons that fired smoke and metal. Any ship not allied with the pirates was at risk. "They captured me, figured I'd be some fun in the sack and a good little maid for them. I'm sure it was surprising when I nearly strangled the first mate with my chains, even smaller than I am now and at only fourteen. They realized I would fight until death before being their prisoner. The captain admired that. He taught me to fight properly, though I was no good with a sword. Never have been," she murmured, more to herself than to Aulfr.
"A year later, I'd learned all I could from him. So I stole some of his stashed loot at port and ran off. I had enough to buy a horse, some clothes, even weapons. So I bought some Noxan daggers of almost as fine a make as that sword of yours and then I sought out my next teacher. I've been learning and getting stronger ever since then. Anyone who will teach me, anyone who knows what I can do to improve, I learn from them. With a few stops along the way," she added, smiling to herself in a secret sort of way.
She thought for a long while about how to answer him, staring out the window at the nebulous sky. He probably already had some small inkling as to who she might be, her vengeance-driven persona at least, but she wasn't about to tell him about her father or her long ago past. She decided on some of her adventures. "I've been homeless since I was a young girl. Living out on the streets, I learned very quickly that stealing was the only way to survive. I learned how to pickpocket, how to rob people blind. I ran a street gang for awhile in Astra." Street gangs were common for orphans. Often the eldest, the teenagers, rounded up the strongest kids and began smuggling and stealing and even killing if they were skilled enough. She'd been the leader of the strongest street gang in Ardany's capital. She'd had to run away after her brothers caught wind of her whereabouts.
"I had some soldiers teach me the basics of defending myself, and when I had to leave the gang I decided on Genta. My ship was attacked by pirates, though." The pirates were one of the biggest problems of sea trade. Most of the sea dogs were Gentan, and Genta itself was the origin of the exploding black powder used in their odd weapons that fired smoke and metal. Any ship not allied with the pirates was at risk. "They captured me, figured I'd be some fun in the sack and a good little maid for them. I'm sure it was surprising when I nearly strangled the first mate with my chains, even smaller than I am now and at only fourteen. They realized I would fight until death before being their prisoner. The captain admired that. He taught me to fight properly, though I was no good with a sword. Never have been," she murmured, more to herself than to Aulfr.
"A year later, I'd learned all I could from him. So I stole some of his stashed loot at port and ran off. I had enough to buy a horse, some clothes, even weapons. So I bought some Noxan daggers of almost as fine a make as that sword of yours and then I sought out my next teacher. I've been learning and getting stronger ever since then. Anyone who will teach me, anyone who knows what I can do to improve, I learn from them. With a few stops along the way," she added, smiling to herself in a secret sort of way.
WilsonTurner AKA / OfWindAndRain
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Aulfr didn't move, but turned his head to look at her, hands laid over one another on his chest. He considered her story, her background for a short while, before replying.
"I certainly do hope you know what you're doing. Especially if you're lying to me- because mastercrafted Noxan daggers cost as much as my sword, there- much harder to get the steel to keep shape at such a small size. You must've really stolen some real bounty, to afford the like."
He knew pirates didn't take prisoners- and he also knew that pirate captains were ruthless. They never took anyone in. This would be the first time he's heard of such a story, of a pirate taking in a feisty one, instead of beating them into submission, or just flat-out murdering them.
So he eyed her dubiously, giving her the benefit of the doubt- she had yet to do anything that gave him a reason to distrust her. And if he found that she was using him, she would be dead before she realized he knew. But then, he gave a small, begrudging nod, and added, "Few servants are so bold, though. Few orphans, as well. You're either a rare gem among the dirt, or born a gem to a gem family." He wasn't too terribly subtle about the accusation, in part because subtly wasn't part of his nature.
Then he straightened, scooted down a bit more so he was laying down more than sitting up, and closed his eyes. "I've changed my mind. You might want to get some sleep, gem. My father is hosting a feast, and you'll be making your first appearance. Don't do anything overly wrong, and the ripples that'll be caused will have a nice effect. Even better, if someone decides to dispute your arrival, in your current... wear."
"I certainly do hope you know what you're doing. Especially if you're lying to me- because mastercrafted Noxan daggers cost as much as my sword, there- much harder to get the steel to keep shape at such a small size. You must've really stolen some real bounty, to afford the like."
He knew pirates didn't take prisoners- and he also knew that pirate captains were ruthless. They never took anyone in. This would be the first time he's heard of such a story, of a pirate taking in a feisty one, instead of beating them into submission, or just flat-out murdering them.
So he eyed her dubiously, giving her the benefit of the doubt- she had yet to do anything that gave him a reason to distrust her. And if he found that she was using him, she would be dead before she realized he knew. But then, he gave a small, begrudging nod, and added, "Few servants are so bold, though. Few orphans, as well. You're either a rare gem among the dirt, or born a gem to a gem family." He wasn't too terribly subtle about the accusation, in part because subtly wasn't part of his nature.
Then he straightened, scooted down a bit more so he was laying down more than sitting up, and closed his eyes. "I've changed my mind. You might want to get some sleep, gem. My father is hosting a feast, and you'll be making your first appearance. Don't do anything overly wrong, and the ripples that'll be caused will have a nice effect. Even better, if someone decides to dispute your arrival, in your current... wear."
GM
Fennec Sassy Book Slut
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
(I fell asleep just before you posted. It's just so quiet in my house, I love it. :D)
Aleksandra watch him bed down, and called her brothers' leering grins to mind. "I'm a gem born among the scum of the earth, more like," she murmured. "But a clouded gem, and so roughly cut as to be unrecognizable." She cleared their faces from her mind and, looking down at the prince, she had the sudden insane urge to tell him who she was. It was true, pirates were ruthless and rarely took prisoners. She'd been incredibly lucky that day. And it wasn't as if she'd come away from that stunt unscathed. The whip marks on her back ached just thinking about what happened when she'd displeased the captain.
"The daggers I bought weren't mastercrafted. You can't even get those in the average blacksmith's shop. I bought them from a famous blacksmith and they were of very fine make. In fact, they might be in storage somewhere in your castle. Along with my staff and my other belongings." Her mask, her signet ring. Things to easily identify who she was. But she supposed it might be easier once he knew the whole story. "I know my horse is definitely down in your stables. Caego is worth three mastercrafted swords," she said with a sigh. She almost wanted to see the look on Aulfr's face when he went to the stables and saw a Tirion river stallion munching on the oats. Just one more impossible thing to tack onto her mystery. She wondered if he'd try to mount Caego? Good luck with that. The horse was in a perpetually foul mood, and he liked to bite.
She lay down beside him and burrowed under the blankets, turning her back to him as she tried to go to sleep. She'd shared a bed with less honorable men before, and she had a feeling he wouldn't be trying anything now that he knew her skills. She found sleep hard to come by, though she could hear Aulfr relaxing behind her, could hear his breathing deepen. Saints, what kind of mess had she stumbled into? She had to live another year, or she'd never be able to go home and complete her task. She'd always be haunted by her brothers, and what they might have already done to other young girls, or what they might do in the future. She would stop them before it happened again. And no longer would they lay hands on anyone.
Aleksandra watch him bed down, and called her brothers' leering grins to mind. "I'm a gem born among the scum of the earth, more like," she murmured. "But a clouded gem, and so roughly cut as to be unrecognizable." She cleared their faces from her mind and, looking down at the prince, she had the sudden insane urge to tell him who she was. It was true, pirates were ruthless and rarely took prisoners. She'd been incredibly lucky that day. And it wasn't as if she'd come away from that stunt unscathed. The whip marks on her back ached just thinking about what happened when she'd displeased the captain.
"The daggers I bought weren't mastercrafted. You can't even get those in the average blacksmith's shop. I bought them from a famous blacksmith and they were of very fine make. In fact, they might be in storage somewhere in your castle. Along with my staff and my other belongings." Her mask, her signet ring. Things to easily identify who she was. But she supposed it might be easier once he knew the whole story. "I know my horse is definitely down in your stables. Caego is worth three mastercrafted swords," she said with a sigh. She almost wanted to see the look on Aulfr's face when he went to the stables and saw a Tirion river stallion munching on the oats. Just one more impossible thing to tack onto her mystery. She wondered if he'd try to mount Caego? Good luck with that. The horse was in a perpetually foul mood, and he liked to bite.
She lay down beside him and burrowed under the blankets, turning her back to him as she tried to go to sleep. She'd shared a bed with less honorable men before, and she had a feeling he wouldn't be trying anything now that he knew her skills. She found sleep hard to come by, though she could hear Aulfr relaxing behind her, could hear his breathing deepen. Saints, what kind of mess had she stumbled into? She had to live another year, or she'd never be able to go home and complete her task. She'd always be haunted by her brothers, and what they might have already done to other young girls, or what they might do in the future. She would stop them before it happened again. And no longer would they lay hands on anyone.
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