Open [Seaside Market] I'd Buy That For A Miza

[Somna Fern]

Timestamp 49th Fall, 513

Somna's trip to the Seaside Market had been on an unseasonably warm day, all things considered. This did not change, however, that her travel to the marketplace was with a smooth woolen cloak over her shoulders that would close in front of her. The Symenestra's lithe frame hidden away behind the curtain of smooth, black fabric would leave a slight sense of mystery to her. The first stop was to a stand of fall fruits and vegetables. The small Widow was by no means one to abstain from meat, but she currently enjoyed the fall colors and the imported goods brought over from the various lands near and around Sunberth.

The saltwater weathered wooden planks felt rough under her bare feet, and the ocean breeze was welcome across the thin, frilly undergarments that rest beneath the cloak she had worn. Minimal clothing would allow her to still be able to show off her wares, in a manner of speaking. A pale hand would slip free of the cloak and allow clawed digits to roam gently over the outside of a yellow squash that was sitting with a bunch of root vegetables and pumpkins. She had heard that they could be cooked, mashed, and strained into soups that tasted delicious as well as would be filling, but she hadn't actually tried it yet. Being one to want to better herself, she couldn't help but come to the idea of sating her curiosities when she didn't have customers on whom to tend.

Blue eyes looked over the various plant-foods with a degree of confusion, though. She had rarely picked out her own things of this sort, and wasn't wholly prepared for the experience. She eyed the vendor, then the wares again. Occasionally, her eyes would roam to the others that passed by to see if there was a pattern to how they gauged quality in these things. She'd have to get more than one, though. She'd never cooked anything like this, and wasn't foolish enough to believe she could make something delicious on her first attempt. Oh, what was a girl to do?

[Cormion]

Cormion would be strolling across the market place himself, he would be standing near a vendor selling all sorts of knives and other small easily concealed weapons. He would snicker slightly as he picks up a pair of Knuckledusters, "How much for this one?" He would ask the man at the vendor, while haggling the price down his other hand would quickly sneak down to the table as his eyes remain locked with the trader's. Pushing a small knife down in the dirt beneath, maintaining his long argument with the trader before declining the offer.

Now with a quick move he would let it seem like he accidently dropped the goods on the ground, letting out a low curse as he would mumble a quick apology, and bend down to pick it up. Quickly sliding the knife on the ground down in his boot in the process before placing the knuckleduster back on the table, hurrying off before the trader would notice, alas such would only take seconds as the man apperently grew suspicious of him. Yelling out loudly for anyone to listen that they should stop the thief, Cormion would quickly run off, pointing at a random girl looking at what seemed like vegetables, while yelling "Stop the thief! Stop the thief!" Hoping to distract the masses from himself.

His entire body would be pumping with adrenalin as he yells, his steel grey eyes searching for a possible escape route as he is aware that they will not bite his trick for long, quickly aiming to run for the girl, as he attempts to grab her and simply haul her along. Desparatly attempting to make the mob jump her instead of himself.

[Somna Fern]

It happened quickly, and whether or not she had the capability to stop the man from falsely branding her a thief and attempt to 'haul her', she knew better. Realistically, part of her had known something horrible could have happened as a result of stepping outside of the pleasure house. She had wanted to see the marketplace. Now a brigand had grabbed her, and what realistically could she do. She hadn't seen the man steal anything, and for all the small Symenestran woman knew, he thought she really had taken something that belonged to someone else.

"Sir, I assure you I took nothing. Please unhand me."

She didn't shout. Even worried, she kept the panic from her voice and attempted to speak calmly and rationally. If the man were to pull a blade or threaten her, this could get much worse much faster. She might have actually hurt someone if it seemed that she would die either way. As it stood, the only thing that might happen is she might lose a hand or suffer her body to be broken in some manner as to keep her from prospectively pilfering anyone again. She hoped they would not cut her hand off. Master Tavish might return her to a dreadful line of work if it was determined that she was no longer able to perform her current duties.

[Cormion]

Cormion would quickly look around, the trader he had fled from would have vanished in the mass of people for now, leaving him to quickly lean down to the womans ear and whisper a few words, "Hush now, and just come with me..I promise it wont go unrewarded". He would stand up straight before informing the curious people nearby "I will be taking her to be punished!" Now obviously nervous for everyone to see that even bothered looking at him, he would try and quickly drag her with him, mumbling along the way, "If I get out of this here mess alive..You wont regret it". His head would twist around, looking for anyone who might recognize him as a thief..Or worse, a murderer.

He would be sweating as his thoughts went haywire, thinking slowly to himself *What a mess I got into this time* He would try and smile at the girl which he first now realised with her skimpy dressing that she was most likely a whore, or a slave. Now for the first time feeling a bit sorry for the woman, although he would still try and make it seem from the public eye that everything was being handled and that they could return to their duties and pleasentries.

[Somna Fern]

More likely than not, it was known she was a slave. If not additionally known in some of Sunberth that she toiled in a pleasure house. Likely, the trader would assume the Symenestra would be taken to be beaten or worse. Possibly 'have her own business shoplifted', so to speak, in recompense. Cormion, as he dragged her, was likely to notice she was very, very light. Hollow bones and a small frame told any that attempted to lift her that she was obviously one of the Widows. It would also seem obvious she did not fight, or did not fight often, as she was not wearing the customary armor to keep her hollow bones from becoming shattered. Somna did, however, wince a bit as she was roughly handled.

"Just don't hurt me, please. My Master would be horribly angry were I unable to work."

It was true, though not a whole truth. Somna had been a slave for the better part of a decade without thought to fight, deal, or escape. She did not cause trouble. Likely her owner would know that any bruises or crushed limbs would not have been because she had done anything wrong, but rather wrong had been done to her. As well, Cormion might then have two traders looking to take their due out of his flesh rather than the one previously. Still, Somna played her part and worked to make it seem like she was concerned for her own well being and not Cormion's.

[Cormion]

Keeping his voice low, he would quickly try and navigate the two of them out of the eyes of any curious bystanders, indeed making it seem she was going to be punished, although the second they passed a corner he would drag her into a small alley. Suddenly releasing the woman, he would pant slightly from the Adrenalin pumping in his body as he suddenly cracks a wide grin and slides one gold right down in her palm with a smirk. "Thank you young lady, you just saved me a good beating and a few coins". Cormion would let out a low sigh as he peers around the corner to find his pursuers have vanished, before mumbling something about laying low for a bit. "Say..You would not happen to know a place where a man could disappear for a few days?" Kneeling down to pull the stolen knife out of his boot before attach it in his belt.

All of a sudden as he stands there, he finally seem to realize that he had forgotten something, "Oh..By the way, I am sorry for the inconvenience, I did not mean to cause harm nor scare" He nods slowly, by now it would be rather clear who the real thief was, judging by his dirty looks, his scars, and his outright odd behavior, putting two and two together would be easy.

At last his eyes would fall on her body, a slight glint of some primal feeling would take root in his eyes as they scan her. Before finally looking back at her eyes with a mix between a grin and an apologetic smile, "Say..I am not sure you and I have met properly..Cormion Slock, a pleasure to meet you" Smirking slightly as his thoughts of pleasure were clearly clouded.

[Somna Fern]

She accepted the coin, placing it into the small pouch she had with her that she had simply held in one hand. What, realistically, could she even do with it? She didn't leave the pleasure house often, and any goods she brought back that were not expressly purchased might be seized. Or might not, it was hard to say given the nature of her lifestyle. As she looked the man over, she understood that it had all been his ruse in the first place. She was a bit upset that he had branded her a thief to cover his own hide, but there was nothing to be done now. Hopefully she could get something with the gold to put her master's mind at ease.

"I admittedly do not know much of Sunberth or the surrounding lands. A pleasure house has been my home for the better part of the last decade."

Then he began introductions, and it was obvious he was doing what men did. In truth, more often than one might believe, women did as well. Somna rarely did herself, this oogling. With her education and profession, it all just seemed like machines made of meat and bone. It sometimes made her seem cold when she took down the alluring act that was a part of her trade.

"My name is Somna Fern, sir."

She played a role well. Meek. Timid. These were words that sprang to mind when one looked at the small stature, light frame, submissive posture, and hushed speech patterns of the young Widow. Only that her fangs and claws existed were the hint that something more predatory hid below the soft, smooth exterior encased in the flowing satin and smooth woolen cloak.