His face was his best feature? Serphia locked her eyes on him, quickly scanning his figure then his face. High cheekbones, a strong jawline, dark black hair; she could see the appeal. He wasn’t an eyesore to gaze upon. However, it was power that attracted most drow eyes to their partner. She would have to see him in battle to judge just how attractive he truly was. She would get a chance to judge him properly in the coming time. 

When he comments on her telling him she had a pet spider, her eyes turned from Arloke to the man now knelt by her side. “Why would I share any information with a man who could have left me for dead the moment he was free from his cell?” Her eyebrows quirked up as she gazed upon him, not truly seeking an answer from him but to simply show how foolish of a statement that was. “And what is your fascination with tits and arses? Surely you have a much better curse than that at hand?” 

When her shackles were finally released, she dropped her arms and gave them a violent shake. Her elbows were slightly stiff from being locked in the bent position for hours and her fingers tingled painful as the blood flow was finally returned to them. “I thank you.” She said quietly to the mage before turning her eyes back upon her spider. “Arloke, my bag, if you please.” The spider lowered itself the rest of the way to the ground and scurried forward until it was crawling into her lap. Strapped to its abdomen by spider silk was a medium sized satchel. Serphia took the satchel from off the spider after giving it a loving pat to the top of its head. 

“They took everything I had,” she grumbled as she began to dig through the bag. Finally she found what she was looking for and pulled free a dagger with its belt, still tightly tucked into its sheath. “I need to get my weapons and armor back.” She placed the dagger on the ground next to her before continuing to dig. Next out of her bag was a water skin that she silently tossed to the mage. She wasn’t sure the last time the human had anything to drink and she wasn’t going to be lugging around an unconscious man, so he had better drink up. She gave her word she would get them both out of that prison but she wasn’t willing to do it while hauling dead weight. He would have to hold his own. “It’s not poisoned,” she said as he turned her eyes on the mage. “Just water. I made a promise to you. I intend to keep it.” She wouldn’t hesitate to leave him behind, but her pride made her want to follow through to the best of her ability. 

Last to come from her satchel was a leather bracer that she quickly slid onto her wrist and tightened. This one wasn’t meant for fighting. It was only protection as she sharpened her blades, especially her poisoned ones. However, it was all she had in means of armor. It would allow her to perform arm blocks, or at least direct a sword that would come at her. It wouldn’t protect against a strong blow but it was some kind of defense, meager as it was. She placed the satchel back in Arloke’s silken threads before beginning to rise. The spider scurried off her lap as she finally stood to her full height for the first time in half a day. She let out a low groan as she stretched, pulling the tension free from her lower back at last. 

Her purple eyes locked on the man in front of her as he introduced himself. She stood there silent for a moment, pondering the best course of action before she finally spoke up. “I will give you my name when we leave this place alive.” She bent down to pick up her dagger off the ground before securing it to her waist by its belt strap. “Until then, you may just call me Assassin.” With that, she scooped up Arloke before depositing him on her shoulder. The spider shuffled a moment before securing itself to her back, its abdomen pointed upwards, with a few strands of spider silk. It settled in as she jostled him a time or two until he was comfortably situated there. High in the rafters, she could see the silken threads Arloke had used as secure lines while he scurried along the ceiling. She could follow those lines to where they had kept her bag, and most likely, the rest of her things. With a loving scratch to the spider’s leg along her side, she began to walk. 

She listened intently to every noise that carried down through the stone halls. Her darkvision allowed her to see even in the darkest of rooms. She was silent as she walked, her body slightly hunched over at the waist so she wasn’t at direct eyeline in case they encountered anyone as they progressed. Slowly, she approached the end of the hall, listening for any hint of people on the other side. The sound of footsteps echoed softly in the distance and she held a hand out to let the mage know to wait there for her. She lowered her center of mass even more as she crouched down. She deliberately unsheathed her dagger before giving a quiet click of her tongue. Arloke shuffled just slightly as she silently made her way into the adjoined hallway. 

As the footsteps slowly grew louder, Serphia raised hand just over Arloke’s abdomen and gave a quiet click. The spider produced a sticky glob of silk into her palm before she moved her hand back to her side, the glob of silk in one hand and the dagger in the other. Her dark skin provided her with a bit of protection from being spotted too quickly and when she slapped her hand onto the guard’s mouth from behind, he was none the wiser. The silken glob filled his mouth and covered his nose, keeping him from screaming out and alerting anyone else that may be down the hall. She brought her dagger up and through the ribcage, quickly piercing his heart as she slowly dragged him back away from any possibly looking eyes. The man struggled for a moment, muffled cries getting stuck within the multitude of silken threads. He thrashed in her grasp, trying to pull the dagger out from between his ribs. She gave the blade a sickening twist. He convulsed a moment, unable to take a breath through the silken mess on his face before he finally went still. Dagger still in his side to not get blood all over her tunic, she moved quickly.

Dragging the corpse of the guard back into the hallway where the mage was told to wait, she only spared the magical man a quick gaze as she hurried past him and brought the dead man into her cell. Judging by how little they came to check on her during her stay, she imagined this part of the dungeon didn’t see much action. Perhaps it was too far from the main office and the guards were simply lazy. Nonetheless, she found this one just down the hall. So she would have to be careful where she hid the bodies and continue forward. It was bound to only grow more active as they moved deeper into the prison. 

“He was the only one I heard in the halls for now.” She said as she situated the body onto its back, pulling her dagger free and slowly closing the man’s eyes. She pulled the silk from his face and snapped his jaws shut once more. He may have had to die for her pride, but she wouldn’t deny him some dignity in his final resting place, even if it was in the very cell they kept her locked in. She wiped her dagger upon his pants before straightening once more. “I’m sure there will be more the closer to the exit we get.”

She flicked her silver hair out of her face. Some days she regretted cutting off her long braid. At least that way her hair was tightly secured and didn’t fall into her face as often. With this short bob, she found herself constantly tossing her head or having to physically move the bangs from her eyes, especially during a fight. It was tedious and annoying.  With a frustrated huff, she turned her eyes onto the mage. 

“Ready?”