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[P] The Sheltered Life; Private; Outside a tavern on the docks
Topic Started: Tue Oct 25, 2011 4:23 pm (1,021 Views)
Elissandra
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Elissandra sipped at her drink, something that had always gotten her teased in the mountains, but something she refused to do. Nobody else had seemed to have a problem with it, but she couldn't stand the idea of drinking so sloppily the stuff ran down her chin. The thought made her shudder in her seat.
“Somethin wrong, gorgeous?”
She turned to look at the source of the voice, left fist tightening around the glass mug in her hand. The speaker was scruffy-looking, and frighteningly burly. He moved uncomfortably close as she reacted, ale on his breath washing over her, nearly curling her hair.

Mind yer own.” She turned back to the bar, looking down into her mug, unsure as to how to handle the situation. “Oh come now, don't be so cold, hon. Maybe you need a bit more drink?” He slurred. “Might be ye've had too much yourself.” She pressed the mug down into the surface of the bar.

“Hard to get? I like that. Makes it a bit more... fun.” He moved his hand to her rear. Ellie blushed furiously. “Remove yer hand. Or I will.” “I like it where it is, love.”
Elissandra swung her glass, breaking a good-sized piece off against the offender's brow. Mead spilled from the broken mug. Elissandra cursed, standing to escape it.

“Filthy little...” He wiped blood from his forehead, sliced by broken glass, and reached for her right arm to hold her still. “The hell...?” He gripped tighter, the arm not giving way, being solid as a rock beneath the sleeve. At this point, other patrons had caught on to the situation and pulled him off her. “Ye alright, miss?” One of them asked. Ellie pursed her lips, absolutely furious. “alright? Damned girl's missing an--” He couldn't finish his sentence through a mouthful of teeth as she threw her shoulder behind a punch straight to his mouth. Nobody had expected the reaction as the girl pounced on the fallen man, landing right after right into his side. Bones crackled, three ribs finally giving way before she was pulled off him and to her feet.

The drunk stayed down, eyes lolling in his head, moaning and coughing blood, curling up as the coughs moved broken ribs. “Let me go! I was leaving anyway.” The men held on unsurely, staying out of range of her right arm until she was away from the scene of the fight, escorted from the tavern.

Cursing, Ellie looked at the spilled mead on her shirt, running from ribs to hip. Walking over to a rain barrel, she splashed water on it, scrubbing at the spot with her left palm, night air feeling chill against wet flesh.
Damned humans, can't hold their damned liquor... Damn it!” She punched the side of the barrel. Wood splintered, water gushing from a crack. She leaned over the leaking barrel with her hands on either side, looking into the disturbed water's reflection, at the blood speckling her face.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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One pair of eyes in the tavern were watching the exchange with little interest in the fight itself, and more interest in the participants. He was kind of amused at some of the people showing concern for the woman, his own eyes tracing the way she carried herself. He could tell there was something a bit different about her, the way she carried herself as if she was supporting an uneven amount of wait, and the sleeve she wore over her arm helped give it away even more. From the beating she had given the man, Ahriman was quite sure that she wasn't very fond of it.
But that wasn't the most interesting part of the fight for him.

He looked over at his first mate who sat at the table with him, nodding towards the back and curling up his mouth in a show of his distress at what he was about to do. He just wished for them to dock and rest after their latest raid into the seas, but he had the sinking feeling in his stomach that he couldn't leave the woman to the fate he foresaw if his hunch was correct.
"Out the back with ye, go an' gather the lads. If my hunch is right, and I'm guessin' it is, then we've got ourselves a bit of an opportunity here, Allen."

The first mate nodded, curling the side of his mouth into a smile and finishing his drink. He had been wanting to get this prod in since that lousy raid three months ago. Pirates weren't exactly a loyal lot, and didn't follow many rules, but when you messed with a man's haul he didn't forget it. Not in a few years, and not ever.

Ahriman stalked through the crowd with his drink in hand as his first mate moved out the back of the place, the people helping the man to his feet and getting him into a chair. He was barely a shadow as he passed by, his hand twisting easily into the man's pocket and pilfering a small iron coin that he had there. It was as he expected. The coin had the emblem of a skull with a rose behind it, the somewhat painfully irritating symbol that the Syndicate of Maryth use to identify their footpads, and other cut-purses they use to move about the city. It is a symbol used to help their people enter secret places, and garner respect.

With a note to the former, Ahriman placed the gem in his pocket and moved his way towards the door. He figured that there was at least one other of his lads in the bar, and from some of the looks he was getting in the bar and the identification of his ship in the dock then he was right. The scouts were already out and the reports were being given, followed shortly after the lass was likely going to be marked for death. It'd be a shame if that happened, he mused.

He came out of the tavern, taking a note of the street before setting his eyes on the woman. The rum was thinking for him at that moment, however, causing him to turn his head slightly to the side. There wasn't any reason he couldn't attempt to put one more ulterior motive to this ploy, really. He walked towards the woman, stopping at least three yards away and pocketing his hands, "Ye know lass, if I was half as pretty as you I think I'd take a compliment a bit better then that, though I suppose the man did come on a bit strong."

He rose his brow and lifted his eyes to look towards the street, taking special care to keep his eyes from the arm the man had clamped onto before he got a few good slaps pounded into him. He wasn't quite sure on what it was, but he did not wish to get the same beating that the man had. He had a lot of faith in his feet, but one good hit was all it would take to lay him out, he was quite sure.

He rose his hand apologetically before he could give her enough time to respond, smiling, "An' before you think me out here ta' just hit on ye like I'm no better then that drunken fool I'm here ta' help ya. If ye'd like to hear what I have ta' say, then I will. If not, I'll be on me way."

He smiled, unable to resist a wink, "But I'd much rather be stickin' around. I enjoy when I get ta' help the prettier lasses. They aren't very common around these parts."
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Elissandra
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Elissandra sighed as she inspected her face, dipping her hand into the barrel and scrubbing away the red flecks, washing off the bloody water. She lifted her right up, inspecting the limb loosely. “[removed].” She ran a fleshy thumb over the torn fabric of her glove the enchantment seemed to be holding up fine, but she'd sliced the thin leather against the man's teeth. It would take a remarkable, and expensive, tailor to fix an enchanted cloth.

The pirate's voice startled her, turning her head to face him, keeping her body sideways to present a smaller target. Relaxing some when she decided she was in no danger, she lowered her fists, watching carefully. She inspected him, brow furrowing. Taller, dark, not bad looking overall. She crossed her arms, leaning away from him.

His comment brought a blush to her cheeks, hidden poorly by a heavy scowl. “Think ye' could take a hit better'n he could?” Ellie spat on the ground between them, tightening her hold around herself. The air was getting chilly as winter approached, and being so near the sea made her arm ache. Neither of which improved her mood.

Her flushing faded as he spoke further. What help could he possibly offer her? To her knowledge, she was in no danger. Very little posed a threat to her that she'd encountered thus far, physical or otherwise. But for some reason the man set her on edge. It might have been the offhand compliments or just the way he carried himself, but Elissandra didn't trust him.

She tightened further, unable to keep down a small growl of irritation when he winked at her, adjusting her position uncomfortably. He thought she was pretty? All too rare she had any sort of experience with that sort of compliment. In the mountains, there had always been comments on how she needed a bit more hair on her chin or meat on her bones. She didn't know how to react to anything otherwise, but couldn't say she didn't enjoy it.

She chose to be angry.

Whadd'ye mean help? Ain't no problems but drink-addled men-folk with too little sense in 'em to keep to 'emselves.” Her accent came in heavier as her temper rose, barely able to keep close enough to the Tarisian accent to remain intelligible.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman smiled at her reaction, at least a little glad that she had her wits about her even after the display. He rose his brow, feigning actually considering if he would enjoy taking a few hits. He already decided he would avoid that if at all possible, but he lifted up his hands in mock surrender, "Ye make a point, I'd rather not have ta' fight ye. From the man ye took a few pints out of I have to say my night'll be lively as it is. Though I honestly lament I can't say that fer somethin' a bit less life-threatenin'."

He turned his gaze down the street and sighed as the first two cloaked figures moved down the streets. He was hoping to avoid the fight for a little bit longer, planning his actions around the fact that the enemy had to deal with similar planning and the setting up of troops. Alas, dealing with rogues in their territory. He had forgotten one of the many rules that Luka had passed onto him, and this time he truly wondered if he'd have time to lament in his sorrows about this one.
Best to avoid that, for now, if he could.

His attention finally went away from the oncoming cut-throats when her response became less then friendly. He had to remember to be careful now, not wanting to fight on two sides. He knew that while they were here for her, as soon as the guild members saw the pirate they would change their priorities until he was killed and tossed in the sea. That was really not a comfortable prospect, he had to admit, he was quite sure that he enjoyed living. He curled up his nose, "Ye take offense easy, lass, and while that ain't uncommon I truly recommend ye change that tune if ye want ta' survive here. Burnin' bridges and leavin' yerself to yerself leaves one side uncovered."
The words that were parodied to him a few times by his former first-mate felt like venom and stone in his mouth, making him turn back to the cut-throats to affix his scowl. He didn't like how much like him he was becoming.

As the three of them came within thirty yards the Pirate smiled, letting loose a sharp whistle that would have made any man's ear ring if they were standing right next to him. At first nothing happened, but he was quite sure about the result. The cut-throats neared, weapons began being drawn, and a shadow moved just out of eye-shot from within a nearby alleyway. Ahriman drew his rapier, content that he didn't need the much stronger cutlass here, and kept the enemies attention on him.

He moved to a position so he stood between the woman and the rogues, smiling when their leader recognized the Pirate for who he was. The ragged old thief snarled, his voice raspy and sounding almost as windblown as his hair, "If it ain't the cap'n o' that insufferable ship. The master 'as been lookin' fer ya, seaboy."
Ahriman put a hand to his chest in another feigned show, this time of insult, "Sea boy? Now I be thinkin' I'm at least a man. Actually.. I think ye can even refer to me as a sea wolf. I suppose to ya limited folk ye'd call me a mutt."

He smiled and waded in, his head coming low and his blade coming out in front of him. As soon as a glittering silver dagger came out, so to did the shadow that had followed their group. The wolf was a decent size, it's gray form bowling over one man and it's sharp teeth finding a mark on the man's shoulder. It had aimed specifically for the man's sword arm.

It didn't take for that one to turn and run, holding his wound. The wolf stayed at it's master's side, stalking around the target as he twisted and sidestepped to keep himself out of harm's way, using the weapon he had little practice in to keep the other two rogues that had come on their feet. He stabbed forward, hitting the right one's waist. A short-sword came in at him from the other side, forcing him to pull the blade out and deflect it, taking the attack from the man he had just stabbed. A dagger bit into his arm, his forearm getting a new gash that he imagined would draw a scar.

A snarl was the response that the man got, from both him and the wolf. Canine fangs snapped around the back of the man's neck as Ahriman waded in, a short-sword barely missing his body as he twisted his weight, bringing the hilt of his weapon into the third man's face and sending him sprawling to the ground, a few of his teeth soon hitting the ground beside him.

Ahriman looked at his arm and felt the arcane words come to his lips, the spell enacting to stitch the flesh on his arm shut as the only remaining rogue tried to rise. A boot from the pirate made sure that didn't last very long. He sighed and turned to the woman, making sure to sheath the rapier back on his waist before hand.

"Ya see lass, I be a fine friend ta' have. Especially considerin' the man ye laid out has a few connections with the wrong people around here. Take the wrong thing too badly and ye'll find yerself marked."
He pulled the coin from his pocket that he had stolen from the man while he was inside, flicking it towards the woman. He kept his flirtatious comments to himself right now, the jovial mood taken from him by the fight, and the injury he had gotten because of his choice of weaponry. He needed more practice with that rapier, and he would have to make a note to do so when his life wasn't at stake. He looked towards the dock and silently wondered if his reinforcements had arrived. The rogues would know that his ship was in dock now, and would likely try to keep it from doing what it did best; Taking to the skies.
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Elissandra
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 "Ye take offense easy, lass, and while that ain't uncommon I truly recommend ye change that tune if ye want ta' survive here. Burnin' bridges and leavin' yerself to yerself leaves one side uncovered."

Elissandra frowned at the statement in thought. “That... sounds like a load out o' south end o' a northbound horse. Pardon if me filthy words dirty yer fragile ears.” The girl's tone was blunt, unamused. “Ain't no way to get much hurt if I don't let nobody close.[color]” She shot at him, blushing darker as she spoke, clamping her mouth shut. She'd said too much.

She looked past him to take note of the men walking down the street, obviously headed in their direction. She tensed, fists tightening. “What's this, then? Can't handle me on yer own? Gotta have yer lackeys help ye take a poor young woman, do ye?” She tilted her head forward, looking up at them, back hunching. The man's whistle left her ear ringing, lifting a hand to cover it. “The hell.” She hissed to herself.

"If it ain't the cap'n o' that insufferable ship. The master 'as been lookin' fer ya, seaboy."

He walked between the men and herself, giving the girl pause. Ellie faltered for a second at the turn of perspective, nearly going slack-jawed as the man and his wolf dispatched the hostile trio. Looking over the bloody scene, she felt her head go light. Plenty of times she's lain a few heavy punches on unruly menfolk, dwarf and man alike. But more often than not it left them with a black eye or a broken bone, little blood save for what they coughed. But a blade brought a whole new perspective to a fight. It opened flesh, leaving bloody ravines where it sliced. She brought a hand to her mouth as nausea swept over her.

She turned her head away for a second, closing her eyes to banish the images. 'Yer a dwarf, girl. Buck up.' she thought to herself. Taking a deep breath, she fought the feeling down, returning to face the man in time to see the coin. Lifting her right arm reflexively, she closed her fingers too slowly, coin pinging off her palm. She snatched it out of the air with her other hand, face coloring once more. Delving her attention into studying the coin, she turned it over. “How'm I to know they weren't after ye, cap'n? Didn't seem much interested in meself, from what I saw.” She cleared her throat. “Should've kept his hands from where they've no business bein'.” She mumbled.

“So what happens now?”
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The wolf stalked around the body of the unconscious rogue, it's eyes locked in on the man. Ahriman knew that if the man got up and made an aggressive move that the wolf would end his life long before he could truly do damage. The wolf had the intelligence of it's race, as well as a rather insidious desire to protect it's master at any cost. He smiled, considerably happy for perhaps the first time when thinking of the subject of the wolf, and the idol he had found shortly after it that was causing changes in him, things he wasn't remarkably fond of.

The lass was stubborn, he had to give her that. She turned the accusation of the rogues back on him, which was ludicrous considering the situations but he would leave it at that. He had spent the last few years of his life dealing with the most rogue of rogues, and he wasn't going to be balked by a blushing girl trying to maintain an aura of pride.

He pointed one of his clean fingers into his forehead and shook it, his voice coming out a little irritated but still wearing a mild layer of concern, "Think before ye act, girl. He didn't recognize me 'til I walked between the two of ya, and their response was only timed well enough to respond to, say, a man gettin' his body bruised up a bit."

Even as he spoke the words he could recognize a lot of her bluster for what it was. He had seen it often enough in younger soldiers, the face of a man or woman who hadn't seen the sight of blood, or a corpse being laid out in combat. He always envied those faces, the ones who still had a bit of innocence away from the more harsh sides of a life like the one he ran. He was never fond of being the one to take that away.

He sighed, and turned his head, putting a hand to his hip and pretending to be examining a few of the allies. He wasn't fond of people seeing shame on his face, or at least concern, as far as one could read that in his features. He spoke through ground teeth, finding the buzz of alcohol that was in his head before having burned away slightly, "I apologize fer springin' that fight on ye, I should have tried a more peaceful route before I left 'em in a bloody pile. The best I can say is at least two of them will survive their injures. Hopefully, at any rate, I don't know if the first lad running would make him bleed too much."
He sighed and was glad that she wasn't part of the bigger part of his plan to counter what she had set loose. He knew his crew were at the docks fighting off many of the footpads that moved through the town, likely causing a ruckus with what pathetic guards the Taras docks could boast. For all the bluster of the place, and the desire to rebuild, stopping chaos wasn't exactly a strength of the region. It's why he much preferred trade in Cascadia, honestly. It was much more peaceful.

The wolf backed up into it's master's leg and snarled, and he figured that it had caught a scent it wasn't very fond of. He made a note of needing to retrieve a few of those coins off of the rogues before moving on, a plan formulating in his mind for the future involving raiding a few hideouts and making sure this organization got what it deserved.
No one snakes a pirate's haul, whether it's shiny or it's pretty. He would have to be sure to gather some information on passwords and the such, quite sure that these fools would attempt to be as strangely careful as possible.

He spoke distantly as he turned to check the two bodies on the ground, the unconscious man first, removing two coins easily. That was two of five that he needed to get his crew through the door.
"If ye truly be believin' them after me and I'm just tryin' to trick ya fer whatever reason ye think's in me head - and I got a clue to that one - then be on yer way lass. Your other option, however, is comin' with me. I got a few lads in the city who're already preparin' to cover our arses. I got a boat that can take us out of town, and I can take ye wherever ye'd like before I give these lads a proper response to their underhanded tricks."

He snarled, truly disgusted and irritated that the rogues were striking out against a woman. How large their egos had to be if they needed to make sure every leak of pride, even being struck down by a wench in a tavern, needed a fatal response. It took a lot of what he had to not execute the man laying on the ground, but he couldn't resist kicking him in the kidney as hard as he could, likely rousing him from his sleep. The wolf by Ahriman's side made sure he stayed down, however.
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Elissandra
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“Timin well enough, that.” She grunted halfheartedly in response, her anger fizzling out slowly. As the man turned around, she took the opportunity to bring her focus fully on the coin in hand, inspecting the way the iron caught the light. “Doesn't seem ter be made with much care. Not a masterpiece in any case. Importance lies more'n what it means than how it looks, I take it?” She questioned the man, flipping it over again.

Usually she'd take offense to being chided, but the young woman could see well enough he had a fair point. “Ahm just fine, no problem with a bit o' wet.” She lied poorly. “Bah. Pardon the accusations. A bit worked up, is all. Just wanted a bit of drink tonight, weren't expecting anything to happen...” Ellie trailed, looking at the corpse, face pale. She took a minute to watch the 'captain' himself. He seemed to keep turning away from her, hiding his face when he changed attitudes. Embarrassed to swallow his pride, maybe. She could identify with that well enough.

Didn't mean she had the courage to do the same.

“Still puttin this on ye', mind. Might've 'ad a perfectly fine night out if not for ye'. Couple of swings and i'd be free to walk.” her grumbles were blatantly stubborn. She blanched as the wolf growled, having seen what the hound could do. She had no will to fight a beast, men were easy enough, they gave up after they broke. But when an animal broke, it didn't get docile. Just the opposite.

His collecting their coins passed over her head entirely. He could've had a dozen reasons for doing so.

“Yer not bein' rid o' me so easily, cap'n. Way I see it, you still owe me a good, calm night. And I intend to collect that.” She attempted to bring a spark of humor to the situation, tone failing her entirely. She was still bothered, on edge on account of the death, and fighting in general.

She winced as he kicked the man on the ground, attempting to cover up the movement.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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He nodded absently at her question, not turning his head to respond, "The symbol places you as a member of the guild, letting you gain access into the right places if you got the words ta' go with it."

He forgot the masking of his accent until the very last few words of the sentence, his eyes gazing over one of the coins he had collected. It was better made then the others, silver lining the sides of it to make it seem a bit newer then those he had seen on the footpads that were usually seen in fights. This guy must have stuck his neck out and assumed he'd only have to deal with a little girl. It made him frown that the guild didn't have the brass to send out their bigger folk for the bigger fish. Twits.

He turned his head at the lie, unable to hide a smile on his face. It reminded him of his brother, Azandara, trying to pass off wounds he was given in practice as nothing to worry about. He was always bad at putting on a stoney face after their sparring matches, his pride usually too damaged to allow him much better then a solemn tone and a sharp frown. The girl had a better poker face then his brother did, however, something he would make a note of.

He turned his face and his gaze became like stone as he considered how much better his brother likely was now. He ran his hand over a scar on his chin, something that an assassin had given him, one sent by that very brother that had made him smile. He sighed, whispering quietly to himself, "I wish I had just kept drinking..."

He closed his eyes and spoke a silent apology to his brother as he placed a hand on the hilt of his cutlass. He would keep it sheathed until the last moment that he could, knowing well that his skill with the curved blade was much more terrifying then his skill with the rapier.

He stood to his full height and chuckled, letting out a small whistle and letting his wolf bound off into the city. It had a job to do and he would be glad for it once that job was done. He smirked and turned to the girl, shrugging his shoulders as innocently as he could, "I don't know about a night o' peace but there are a few places me ship can go that many others can't. It's been a good payment fer a few others before ye."

He always loved to see how people reacted to his ship when it began to take off, the look on their faces as the wind began to blow through their hair. He was silently hoping that with this lass the reaction may be one of happiness, at least, to repay the tumultuous night that he was likely dropping on her head. He nodded for her to follow, starting off down the road towards the first crossing in the docks. The city area of the docks wasn't large by Ahriman's standards, but it was a rat's maze if ever he had seen one. He hoped that he had the advantage of knowledge over the footpads, but he highly doubted that. With his luck they'd catch him in an alley before they ever reached the docks.

He smirked when he turned the corner and saw not only two people coming his way, but Allen coming as well. So at least three of his men were holding at the docks, that wasn't going to turn out well for the footpads if his men stayed near the ship, but he had the assistance of one of his crew. The sight of innocence in the lass flashed in his eyes, and he set a grim smile on his face. He'd try to make sure that look didn't go away, if he could.
His words rang out before the two could react, "Danza, Isabella!"

The cutlass left it's scabbard with it's edge already sparking and crackling with lightning, the dagger that the first man drew being his bane. The electricity coursed through it and his body slammed into a nearby wall, the electricity and the landing knocking him unconscious. Before Ahriman could react to the second an arrow planted into his back, Allen having drawn his bow as soon as he heard his captain call out that familiar battle-cry.
This was going to be a long night.
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Elissandra
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“Uh huh.” She said, inspecting the coin, slipping it beneath her glove. “And do we got said words?” She cocked an eyebrow. The loss of accent caught her off guard, becoming suspicious when he picked it back up. Seeing no harm in a fake accent, the girl shrugged, disregarding it for the time being.
He turned his head at her comment, and she could tell he was amused, intuition speaking to her. She slapped at his shoulder with her left hand, mock-frowning. “Laughin at me, sea-boy?”

The humor put off the disturbing thoughts brought about by the dead man nearby, for a brief second allowing her to smile before her eyes were inevitably drawn back to it, grin fading to a solemn stare. It looked so easy, killing the man. Choosing to end a life seemed so much different when it wasn't an animal for food, or a goblin's yellow eyes looking at you.

She followed the pirate hesitantly, not yet certain whether or not she wanted to accompany him for sure. He seemed nice enough, and hadn't made any comments as to her disfigurement, but she hadn't noticed any sign that he'd even figured it out.
“Well'n, might be I'll go with ya, then. Might as well see all I can, not much o' life to work with, 'ere.” She kept fairly close, not wanting to admit she was less than comfortable with the situation, keeping an eye on each dark area they passed, looking for more men attacking them.
“Mind ye, I don't plan on stayin' long.”

She tensed as three men headed their way, one following behind the other two. "Danza, Isabella!" She gasped as the cutlass sparked, lightning coursing through its steel. It had been a rare time she saw an enchanted weapon, even in the mountains. Dwarves didn't seem truly impressed by anything but those weapons with magic imbued.

The cutlasses' strike had a devastating effect, sending one of their attackers into a wall, already out cold, body jerking uncontrollably. She jumped out of the way as he fell to the ground. The second stumbled as the arrow pierced his back, shot by the third man she'd assumed to be an attacker. The man stumbled forward, knife in hand, eyes on Elissandra. She swung her arm back and gave a smooth uppercut directly on his chin, knocking him out of the way. He fell to hands and knees with the arrow in his back, losing blood quickly.

“Thrice-damned, frog-loving...” She shouted in anger, backing from the fray. Glaring at the captain, she seethed, “The hells've ye' gotten me into, dog?!” Crying out in frustration, she pointed a finger at the bowman. "An who the 'ell are ye? The hell are any o' ye?" Most of the outburst was stress finding a way out, trying to keep herself from losing her head entirely.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman felt at least a little happy that she had continued with the humor, trying to find something to grasp at in the situation. If she could keep on at least a decent poker face he had faith that she could keep a bit of that smiling innocence that usually associated with those who balked at battle. It was a distant hope, and a mild guess on his part but one he would carry on to. He was tiring of fighting on dry land. His feet shifted uncomfortably, but he did manage a somewhat meager response to her joke, "Now now, sea wolf. Much more appropriate, I be thinkin'. Boy just stings me wee pride."

Before the scuffle in the street he was appreciative that she had at least conceded coming with them, something that would make their work much easier when it came to stopping these bunch of idiots from flexing their egos as well as they could. The pirate had principles, and right now they were telling him to find the leader of these rogues and plant a boot so far down his throat he digested it. He sighed when the woman began her mild panic after the battle, letting the lightning runes upon his blade slowly die down.
"Relax yerself, lass, relax. This here is Allen, and he be one o' the boys I mentioned to ya before. And..."
He debated a moment if he should give his real name, aware that most of the assassins on his tail were painfully aware of where he was docking, and what covers he used. Or at least the ship he used, given that it wasn't exactly the most sneaky ride on the Moonsea. He conceded to his mental point and shrugged, "You can call me Ahriman. Me crew and meself aren't exactly on this little groups friendly side any more then you are at this moment."

Allen smirked at the mention of the thieves, quietly pleased with himself for the kill on the man. A glare from his captain told him to hide the look at least, to try and not look so pleased with himself. It was confusing, but the crew of the Mille Figli respected their captain, and not a single one of them would turn him down when he offered a command, or a request. Well, perhaps if it had something to do with a lack of rum while they were at sea. That may be contested by the lot of 'em.
It was the little things that were important, after all.

Ahriman smiled and nodded towards Allen, the man taking up the rear guard of the group. He knew that the gray wolf that he had sent off would be in this area searching for spare thugs wandering around. The order he had given was one of patrol, and the wolf would be sure to stick to the group's flank. He was silently glad that it hadn't bounded out for that battle, not wanting to lose the element of surprise on at least that weapon for now.
He took the time now to retrieve the coins from the two lads.

He sighed once again and pocketed the coins, frowning a bit as he looked at the woman, "Now I've told ye my name, would ye mind if I asked fer the same courtesy? I figure if we get that out o' the way this situation may be a wee bit more bearable, as it were."
He motioned for her to keep step with him, and turned to continue their walk. The longer they waited in one spot the more likely an ambush was, and the less likely it was that he could spare the girl the necessity of being forced into battle. He made a mental note to himself to avoid pretty faces from now on when it came to resigning to defend people. Not much good ever truly came of it when it came to his own personal safety.
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Elissandra
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Elissandra pinched the bridge of her nose, cursing under her breath. “Jus' wanted a peaceful night 'n a good drink. Tha's all.” She shook her head, froze, and glared at Ahriman. “You relax yerself. Ahm fine. Right dandy.” Cursing in a colorful display of vocabulary, she huffed, regulating her breathing.
Turning her attention to the bowman, she lifted a hand, waving idly.

“Allan. And Ahriman.” supposedly, she thought to herself. He'd paused before giving his name. “'S what I call you, but not necessarily what yer rightly called, is it?” She crooked an eyebrow. “No matter. Fair enough. Name's Elissandra. An' if ye know what's good for yer health, it's what ye'll call me.”

The woman noticed the brief, wordless exchange between captain and crewman. By her best guess, the man was worried for her, acting protective. Or she could be entirely wrong, and he was simply acting on principle. She turned her head away, fully expecting to flush again, but it thankfully didn't come.

Who the hell did this man think he was?

Expression fouling briefly, she crossed her arms tighter. What she didn't need were thoughts of anyone clouding her mind, especially when she seemed to be in the middle of a private war. Uncrossing her arms, the woman relaxed and fell into step beside the captain, walking confidently, gaze determined.

“Tell me 'bout yerself, cap'n.” She spoke sternly, letting it be known she would be taking no crap this evening. “And how close yer ship be.” She looked him dead in the eye with a defiant light. “Least ye can do. Keep me mind busy. Where ye from?” Her eye wandered downward, drawn to the hilt of his cutlass. She was thoroughly intrigued by the object, wishing to inspect it. The blade was the work of a master, and the enchantment on it seemed powerful, indeed.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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There were down the streets, every now and again crossing the path of eyes that were a little too keen on following them. That would be just dandy, at least. He could already see the flags of ships on the docks from here, quite glad that the place wasn't much larger then it was. They should get to the docks soon, though what was waiting for them was likely not as friendly as what they had already seen. Once they passed another street the pirate whistled, the wolf running from it's hiding place to stand on the opposite side of the woman, close to it's master's leg. At least with that he knew that it would deter some of them.
He rose his brow at the question of his name, wondering how much he should actually divulge within an hour of meeting someone. Not much, by his reckoning. He shrugged, "It be the name I'm usin', and any other name I use don't count fer much next to it honestly. Regardless, it's nice ta' make yer acquaintance, Elissandra."
The name rolled off his tongue weirdly in his opinion, the hiss in the center of the name making the name feel a bit too smooth for the woman who seemed content with a gruff exterior. He would keep that to himself, however.

There was no sign of lies in his voice, though the statement was circular enough that there truly wouldn't be. He couldn't actually recall the last time he gave a false name, having resigned himself to the fact he was going to be hunted regardless of going by the name Abel, Ahriman, or Rumpelstiltskin. Any of them were easy to trace when it came to the hand of a truly skilled assassin, for it was the blood that made him an easy target. Magic was always his short-suit.

He let the moments pass quietly, pretending he didn't hear the question about himself for just a moment. This was another thing he wasn't fond of sharing, even to someone he was feeling irrationally protective over. He looked back at Allen who merely shrugged at him, curiously watching some of the more authoritative figures along the road who were uncomfortable with him having an arrow hang lazily against his bowstring. He truly hoped that the first-mate wouldn't spark the animosity of more people.
He chuckled a bit then, turning towards the woman and relenting that if he wanted to help her, she had to be willing to accept it, "I'm a sailor, if that ain't be clear. Me crew and I deal with the delicate work o' finding supplies and makin' sure they get ta' the right hands. I suppose you could say that's why we share a common enemy, you and I. So far as my ship, it'll be quite clear which one it is when we reach the docks, which aren't far, cause it is... quite unique I must admit."

He smiled and a laugh echoed from behind them, Allen quietly agreeing with his captain. He wasn't quite sure but he thought he heard the snarky remark of, "Unique be puttin' it mildly, cap'n."
He huffed at the first-mate and tried to hide the painful wince at the question of where he was from, moving his face to look towards the side and pretend he was watching one of the shadows. That was a question he had no intention of answering, not now, at any rate. Not even Allen knew where the Captain was from, hell all that the first-mate knew was the same that the rest of the crew knew. Their Captain was a prince, and their Captain was a damn fine example of one that didn't have his haughty head up his arse.
And to the crew of the Mille Figli, that's an important point.

He decided at length to deflect the question with a few of his own, an attempt to push the conversation to something that would be a bit less scrutinizing, "What is it that you be doin' Elissandra, particularly that brings ye to the Taras docks. Ye don't quite seem the type ta' be swimmin', as it were."
He glanced back at her and tried to see if he could catch any hints of that, hoping that was sufficient enough to move the conversation along. He had the sinking feeling it was the last thing he should have tried, however, given the attitude she had shown so far.
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Elissandra
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Ellie shook her head. “'Smooth a liar as I've e'er met. S'pose names don't mean much.” She shrugged. He whistled again, once more subjecting her to the shrill sound in her ear. The wolf returned to view, coming to stand next to her and Ahriman. Elissandra slipped her hand into a pocket, trying not to make a scene of it. She hadn't often seen canines in any shape, rarely hearing them on the occasional venture on the mountain passes during trades between towns. She'd heard stories, however, of the beasts they were, four-legged monsters with jaws to snap a man's arm in half. Some with intellect nearing human, some with breath that could chill your organs solid.

In any case, friendly or not, she preferred to keep a respectful distance between herself and the wolf.

Elissandra made note of his wording, even she could read between the lines there. 'finding' supplies and making deadly enemies along the way didn't sound at all like honest business. As a rule, she didn't approve of bandits, thieves stealing the wares from traders barely making a living, but that was in the mountains. Might have been another world, for all the good it did her. It was certainly a new world outside. Perhaps they had good cause here.

“...Unique?” She asked suspiciously, hearing the first mate clearly as she walked a step behind the captain, letting him lead the way. The most jarring action he had performed thus far in their talking was the avoidance of the subject of from where he hailed.
“Yer avoidin' m'question, Ahriman.” She shook her head. Sighing, he shrugged her shoulders, letting it slide, despite her curiosity being stoked. “Ahm exploring. Much too much ter see in the world 'fore I die. Didn't want ter stay cooped up in the caves fer all m'life, nice as they are.” She flowed with the change in direction of conversation, letting him have it, but giving him a look that told she wouldn't be done on the topic.

“'sides, I've ne'er seen the ocean. Told it's a big pond, a hunnerd times bigger'n the underground ponds we got in the cities. Can't 'magine there's that much water in the world.”
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The Captain let out a small chuckle, making sure the snarky remark was muttered beneath his breath, "Better to be smooth then rocky, I suppose."
He turned his head towards her and resisted the thought that came into his head to continue that statement, feeling it rather prudent to not fire her up again. She wasn't very perspective when he went about those kind of comments before, it wasn't the best idea to bandy them about again. He concluded it best to simply press on, his eyes continuing their vigil on the streets. There were now four people far enough behind them to not engage, but he made a note they were specifically following them. He had a hunch they had a few different groups that were being a bit sneakier, letting that group do the obvious.
It'd be too suspicious if they just stopped following entirely.

They turned a few corners and finally came to an intersection where the traffic of people was even thicker, even beyond that he could discern eyes that made a point to divert from them from within the crowd. This little group of thugs had done a good job of putting a vice around the throat of these docks, he had to admit. He recalled them attempting to tax his boat upon arrival at one point, making him quite curious if that was something they only did to him because of the craftsmanship of his boat, or if they had gotten such a hold they could easily do that. Neither would surprise him, but the latter pissed Ahriman off a bit.

He shook himself back to reality when she began to respond to his question, making a point to ignore the question to unique. He had a feeling that when they turned the corners to the docks that the ship would speak for itself, and he wondered if it actually would at some point. He wasn't fond of the idea of having to use that enchantment on this lot, but he was quite sure the powerful dweomer that was placed upon the figurehead on his ship would make short work of these rogues. The thought of it brought an uncharacteristic smile to Ahriman's face.

He turned to her before the smile could diminish and rose his brow, "Caves? The cities? I take yer from the deep cities then? Well, suppose that's a dumb question since ye already answered that... You can at least be comfortable in knowing that there is that much water in the world. There's an ocean out there, an' there are folk like me all over makin' a livin' on those seas. Were they truly that curious of a thing fer ya?"
He avoided the grandiose gesture of sweeping his arms, figuring it would be a big dramatic and likely seem like he's casting a spell. The former was something he wanted to avoid, and the latter may provoke the wrath of those who were content following them back to their ship to strike at them in the heart of their group.

Ahriman turned as they neared the lip of the street that led to the dock, a smile crossing over his face as he saw what he had hoped for. Two of his boys, Shep and Len, leaned against a wall on the outside of an alleyway. He rose his hand to signal a stop of the group, cocking his head curiously to the side as Loda can out of the alley with a rather nervous look to his face. They had apparently been busy clearing a road for them to take. That was a bit comforting.
Ahriman couldn't help but laugh at it, "Seems ye lads have been busy, how're the streets lookin'?"
Loda shrugged halfheartedly, "Clear enough, though I reckon we aren't gettin ta' the other side without a fight, these dogs ain't be knowin' a good fight if it bit 'em on the hind-end."

The prospect of a fight in the alley at least offered them a defensive position if the rogues stuck to their usual bouts of melee. He had a feeling he couldn't be so lucky about that, however, thinking it would be prudent of them to bring a few varying troops. He shuddered to think of his crew being shot down like dogs in an alleyway. He turned towards the street with bodies rushing left and right with supplies and other things to take to the sea with. The alley seemed least dangerous, considering the chance of getting stabbed in the back.
He set his face into a grimace, "The alley it be, then. At least we got ourselves a fightin' chance. Is Elnora back from her huntin'?"
Loda nodded.
Ahriman breathed a sigh of relief, "Good, maybe she can be of assistance, then. Not too keen on being next to the buildings if she misses, though I suppose beggars can't be choosers."
He recalled the bar again, looking back at the woman behind him and considered something else about Elnora. He tried to resist his eyes going to her arm but he couldn't. This was no longer about his curiosity, this was about tactical principles.
He sighed and regretted every word as it came out of his mouth, "Ye be carryin' yerself like yer one side is considerably heavy. Am I right in figurin' that wouldn't be somethin' pleasant were lightning to start crackin'? And before ye respond, just know that I'm askin' to know what our best chances are of survival."

He hoped to the gods that he survived asking the question. He wasn't keen on joining that bar patron in a bloody lump on the floor.
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Elissandra
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“Well, 'aven't rightly seen one yet. Just got inter town this afternoon, took a break. Ye know the res'.” She frowned as they walked. She had an idea of where the docks were, and they seemed to be taking a very roundabout way of getting to them. Concentrating, she found a couple of semi-normal looking men who stood out from the rest. They appeared to have an unhealthy interest in their little group, however. And their attention was much more worrying than passersby who were concerned about weapons in the open.

Elissandra relaxed somewhat when they met up with three more allies, presumably more of Ahriman's crew. She lifted a hand in greeting, busy looking for more of the watchful groups.
“Huntin? Misses? The hell are ye on about?” Ellie crooked an eyebrow. Didn't seem like there would be any hunting a ways from the city, and it would be a long trek back. One she would prefer not to wait out.

Stones, Ellie. The 'ell 'ave ye gotten yerself into?

Elissandra froze as the captain asked his question. Even defending it, she could hardly believe he'd posed such a question. Her face turned stony, muscles in her jaw twitching as she clenched and unclenched her teeth. Her fists tightened into balls. He dropped several notches in her thoughts.
“Ye...” She began, furrowing her brow. He was obviously bringing it up in the interest of her safety. Some of her anger melted, leaving her seething rather than flamingly pissed.

“I'll be right fine with a bit o' shock, don't you worry 'bout meself.” She turned her head from him.
“We'll settle this later, ye and I.”

He had potential, too...
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