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Betrayal, came for the bard as he sat on his cot, restringing his lute. He'd been unbearably sea-sick, and aside from his own personal flask of whiskey, he'd consumed nothing the whole day. And even he, fool though he might be, inferred the full implications of the black-clad men charging into his quarters. It was of course, impossible for him to do much of anything at all, but he managed two reactions, both fairly thoughtless. The first, was to whisper, [color=FFE700]"Fuck,"[/color] and his second reaction was to take the spools of his lute strings wound tight, and shove them in his breeches. 

The men seized him by the wrists, the bard took another breath to shout, give warning, anything, and then they knocked him out.

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When Fiers felt the coarse wetness of the beach against his cheek, and a wash of saltwater swept over his bottom half, he knew they'd been fucked. He opened his eyes and tears welled, the stinging of salt burning, and he slowly lifted himself into a kneeling, half-bent position. Something was grinding against... his balls? Fiers went south, fished around, and found to his pleased surprise that there between his legs was one set of spindled strings for his lute. 

That set his heart beating in a panic, not that there was only one string of course, because that in and of itself was a godsend, but because he hadn't been wearing his lute when he was presumably thrown off-shore. He finally straightened to a semi-erect posture and looked round. Just to his left, as loyal as they come, lay his lute. Fiers didn't really pray to any god, but he thanked all of them for this miracle. He brought the instrument to his chest and clutched it softly. It was damp. He didn't have any semblance of dry cloth to use to dry the lite and that pained him, but he'd seen lutes go through worse and still carry a tune. It saved him the troubles of stealing or carving a new one. His lure on the other hand... that was solid metal, and he somehow doubted that it would be anywhere other than the bottom of the ocean. [color=FFE700][i]Fuck, I'm lucky I'm not at the bottom myself![/i][/color]

Fiers finished taking stock of what he'd been left. His rapier of course, was a familiar weight at his hip. He would actually have to kill with his rapier now, no training left, no chances to try again. He also had both of his coin purses, for the thief and for himself, though he suspected gold didn't carry much value out here. Could you eat, fuck, or skin gold? No, you couldn't, but you could be damned sure that any of those three worked just fine on people carrying around gold. Fiers bit his lip, biting off a stream of curses. He hated being backed into a corner, with no outs. He felt the medallion dangling from his neck and rubbed it loosely. He had that as well, so all couldn't be lost just yet. But aside from his lute, his blade, his damp clothes, and what amounted to a pile of useless shiny metal in terms of survival, Fiers felt naked. No supplies, no disguise, and no knowledge of what to do next.

Fiers looked up, past his immediate location on the shoals, and scanned the beaches, the caves and rocky promontory, the sinister wooded area beyond. They'd been sent here presuming full equipment, organization, and support from the crew of the Sea-Stalker. Assuming then, that support amounted to throwing over their equipment along with their unconscious bodies, Fiers had about as much support and equipment as he was going to get for free. As for organization...

Fiers groaned, both drugs, fatigue, and a well-deserved bruise to the gonads weighing him down, but he managed to get into an unsteady crouch, and that was both all he could manage and all he wanted to accomplish. In this half-light, any obfuscation Fiers could gain from unfriendly eyes was worth it. He could barely make out a silhouette in the distance, and so Fiers made for it, lure in hand, strings pocketed, clutching his few possessions tight to prevent any unnecessary noise. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but the sounds of the waves lapping against the coast seemed eerie. There was something underneath it, bearing a lingering semblance of menace.

[hider=OOC]So, who's Fiers going to find?[/hider]