[center][color=peru][h2]Knight Devout[/h2][/color]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/6ayJCLm.png[/img][/center]
[color=peru][center][h2]Captain Stratya Durmand[/h2][/center]
Time:[/color] 2nd Ignis, Evening
[color=peru]Location:[/color] Tough Tavern
[color=peru]Attire:[/color] [url=https://pin.it/5yhq8PwRC]Fine Dress[/url]
Boar Mantle of Spring Hunting - head’s at home, the bulky thing
A Dirk - strapped in, strapped down
[url=https://i.imgur.com/8bpbDCb.jpeg]Swordbreaker[/url] - strapped in, strapped down
[color=peru]Interactions:[/color] Roman
[color=peru]Mentions:[/color] Kalliope, Marius, Garran, Ox, Drake, Kazumin

[@princess][@Lava Alckon][@Tae][@ReusableSword][@samreaper]


[color=#99546F] “‘Any piece of my body you choose,’ you lot hear that?”[/color]

Yes, she did.

Kalliope had put herself into a dangerous position. She’d offered something precious, indeed, to a madman with a gun and a disgusting thing for his razorblade. Though she was certainly concerned about Kalliope, something else had drawn Stratya’s attention.

Marius was [i]enjoying[/i] this.

His delight turned her stomach. Suddenly, she saw something less than a man. Something irredeemable. Incompatible with peace and good living. Stratya felt it within her chest, beneath the dread. Violent and fast and hot. Familiar. Carefully, Captain Durmand contained it, covering it with her dread, biding her time.

[color=greenyellow]”If I may.”[/color]

Stratya’s eyes shot to the young lord. What was he doing? As Drake went on, Stratya felt the cold fear, the dread in her freezing, spreading, expanding. He practically mocked them, and Kazumin didn’t help much. Stratya had dealt with enough outlaws to predict how this would go. Anything not within this room did not scare them. They could disappear at will - nothing held them to this place, even to the kingdom, unlike Lord Drake or Lady Charlotte, and their coming Duchies. The brigands had the freedom to plunder and leave and never return, evading the connections Drake had tried to lord over them.

The Captain did not flinch when she felt the contact against her knee. She figured it to be an attempt at comfort or communication, though when she realized it was Roman, she decided the latter. She did not expect to feel a wave of warmth course through her body, followed by clarity. The Captain looked at Roman only long enough to read his lips, offering the slightest of nods in response. Perhaps she’d ask him about his magic later.

Roman’s distraction was only momentary, the whistle and Ox’s movement brought her back to the horrible reality. Worse than watching the good man be bound to the support beam was watching the iron be heated. As the mark was made on good Lord Drake, Stratya realized something. Drake was not wrong. There was a connection these cutthroats should fear.

[i]She[/i] was there.

The dread changed. Melted, finally, into a pond of patience. Three drinks, they wanted? Three drinks, and then the patience would evaporate, and nothing would be left to contain her Fury. To the Fury, they would pay for every mark and every death.