A Word Runner's Test...(Zandelia)

[Archelon]

Fall 14th, AV 511 Outside, in the streets of Sunberth there was a woman, standing next to a man. A man mired hip deep in the comings and goings of Sunberth's underbelly. A man who went simply by the name, Tua. Tua was a business man of course, in the habit of making money and money making was his business. He ran a tight shift in the Establishment, and that meant having workers who knew how to be punctual, discrete, and most importantly, on time no matter who or what troubles they encountered. They couldn't allow themselves to be slowed by muggers, or thieves, or discovered in the dead of night, so stealth would be a key factor of their abilities. If it wasn't then at least their ability to run away would be taxed. These were what his Word Runners were for: many a time simple messengers that were good enough to remain silent on where they would go or what they would do in Tua's employ. They were meant be this way... otherwise : if they risked his business there would certainly be consequences down the line. Many of the letters or packages they would carry would be harmless: merely one of many letters of recommendation to the business owners of sunberth telling them that a person of some worth would be sent their way to ensure their business needs were met. This was the normal job of a Word Runner, and Tua expected much from them. With a large black envelope in his hand, he turned it around so Zandelia could see the name and address of the indicated recipiant. For this particular envelope it was asked to be delivered to the Dragoon Training grounds, inside the gated community to an old man named "Mac." "You have a bell and a half to make it there and back... But be careful when you cut through the warehouse district, a few gangs are tending to jump anyone that try to pass. If you succeed within the allotted time, I'll consider you hired for the job. If you fail to make it back within that time frame, then we'll see whether there's anywhere else for you to go. If you fail to deliver the letter at all, unopened and still sealed, then you will wish you never existed because I will not hesitate to have you sent off to the slave blocks, do you understand?" Zandelia seemed to nod once, and then was handed the letter. Without much further ado, the woman who would be a word runner would turn and be off about her task. If she seemed to look back over her shoulder, then the only sight of things she would have seen would have been Tua, disappearing back inside the establishment. Not even glancing another time in her direction as his notice was directed towards other items of business which needed his attention...

[Zandelia]

Zandelia was taken out into the world of Sunberth, lead firmly and forcefully by Tua, all the while wondering if her decision had been a wise one after all. Being under his employ would bring benefits to her life indeed, that much was not up for doubt. For starters she would be earning some mizas, with a little extra learning here and there she liked to hope to herself. Still, as she was told of her initial task, processing his words as quickly as she could, she could not help the slither of worry that forced its way through her thoughts. Somehow she was coming to the conclusion that her life was about to become a lot more dangerous and infinitely more threatened. Still, an opportunity was an opportunity, and nothing worthwhile could be bought for free she knew well. Well, as father always said, if life gives you lemons then squeeze them in someone’s eye and steal their money she thought to herself as she left Tua to go about his business and secreted the letter inside her jacket for safekeeping. There was little point to advertising her possibly temporary role, though she was sure her small conversation with the man had already been well noted by some. “Well, no sense waiting around for someone to knife me in the back. Better get the damned job done as soon as possible” she muttered to herself, the envelope next to her chest all but radiating an aura of threatening malice. She set off a fast walk that soon became a slow jog, not wishing to go too quickly from inaction to a full sprint and risk compromising her chances by exerting herself overly much when it wasn’t necessary. She had a grim, foreboding feeling that she would need as much of her energies as possible when she would be cutting through the Warehouse District. Tua would not have mentioned anything about the thugs and the waylaying if he had not been sure they would be a reasonable threat to her enterprise. The timing would be relatively tight, she reasoned, for getting to the Dragoon Training Grounds and back – though more for the fact she would have to locate the ‘Mac’ the missive was destined for more than the distance in many ways. Still, no use complaining now, not when I have to deliver the damned letter or order up a pit to be left in – if Tua would even grant that nicety she told herself, focusing her attentions as she cut down an alley to her left and began her entrance into the Warehouse District. It was here that she began to slow to a quick walk, becoming a bit more cautious as to her surroundings. The initial quick burst through the rabbit warrens between The Establishment and her current position had been about gaining time. The Warehouse District would be her longest journey section. She wasn’t about to throw her life away for Tua, not if caution and methodical care could keep her alive. Realistically she merely needed to deliver the missive to survive – seeing as if she didn’t make the journey in the allotted time she would still have job prospects. She began to check around tight corners where her vision was all but blocked, making sure there was no opposition to her passing. The first few were simple, easy and quick. She knew that such luck would not hold out for long though, and that it was merely a matter of time before an obstacle presented itself. I only hope it’s a small bleeding obstacle when it comes she growled to herself mentally as she slinked up to the edge of yet another corner, this one a particularly tight right turn.

[Archelon]

Like a mouse to the maze, Zandelia's steps brought her into the stifling alleys of the warehouse district. The district itself was a bonny place, with streets overrun with gangs and 'guards' of various shapes and sizes. Some seemed corpulent, leaning menacingly on walls, clad in ill fitted armor, and wielding axes as they stared at anything, and everything that passed them by. Others were smaller, more temperamental sorts that fidgeted with paranoia as they scoured the shadows for any sign of something amiss, and others seemed far too bored to care though they tended to raise their eyes and whistle annoyingly at any woman that passed by. This... was the warehouse district. In all its infamous glory. Any man, or woman, beast, or kelvic passing through here would have to be on their toes at all times. Wary of what was going on around them, and Zandelia's caution in this regard proved beneficial to her. In her view as she peeked around the corner like a dirty peeping tom, she would spot three men lackadaisically yawning in front of a small warehouse. One scratching his ribs , another his own petard, and the third just spat complacently as he scanned the area with his eyes. If she peeked her head out further she'd find there were a few options to her. A series of stacked crates, might provide some cover for her to slip by if she timed it right. Or she could bold as brass walk through, and perhaps receive a few cat calls if the toughs weren't in the mood for easy prey. Or she could take the initiative to find a means to circle around, or outright attack them if she chose. Whatever she wished to do though, there would be consequences, like anything in sunberth: the time it took her to complete this task for Tua would have to be weighed with the risks involved...

[Zandelia]

Zandelia could hear a few scuffing sounds as she crept closer to the corner, signalling that something at least was around the next corner – though in Sunberth that could range from a diseased rat to a battalion of seasoned mercenaries. She found herself fervently preying to whatever God of Goddess that may have been spying on her that it was the former. As she edged her gaze around the corner, made awkward by her lack of left eye, and pressing her back against the wall to stop herself being carelessly seen she could make out three figures in varying degrees of lazing positions. She edged herself fully back around the corner and let her head fall back against the wall in frustration. And one of them seemed a little more alert than the other two, scratching and sprawled as they were she noted to herself as she ran down though her options. Her first thought was to double back and try another route to the Dragoon Training Grounds, perhaps to bypass the current threat. She mused upon that idea for but a few moments before dismissing it as a foolhardy venture and an utter waste of time. There was no guarantee that she would find another route, and even if she did there was little hope that it would be less threatening – and might even have turned out a worse situation. After all, a few semi-lazy guards were better than a lot of other scenarios she could have been presented with. Come on woman, think! she railed at herself privately, trying to conjure up the layout of the alleyway from her mind’s eye and her brief glance into its contents. She could recall a few scattered crates here and there, which was a possibility for slinking through the shadows around them with the correct timing and skill – but her skill at sneaking around was not to be applauded at the best of times. If she were caught sneaking by them then they would definitely attack her, at best. They did not look like the sort whom had survived by letting larceny get the better of them. No, the stealthy option was but a sweet trap, one which could quite easily leave her smeared across the floor. “Attacking them is also foolhardy, three against one not being the nest odds. Even with my Tonfa they’re bigger, stronger and have meaner weapons than me. Bastards!” she hissed at herself just below audible range. It was then that a bolder, but perhaps more viable alternative emerged within her mind. Why not just walk through?! They don’t seem the type to want to get their hands too dirty. And I don’t conjure up immediate threat warnings. Worst case scenario is that they try and feel me up, and then I could just run or surprise them with some close quarters attacks before runningshe reasoned to herself. She knew she was considered moderately attractive, and the lazy male type always seemed to prefer to appreciate women with a bust than attack them. She sighed, resigning herself to the only real possibility she could think of as she swept her cloak over her shoulders and pulled her jacket open, arranging her corset so that it was lower and made it seem her breasts were about to literally pop out of her clothing. Add to that her swaying walk and sweet smile and she was ready to walk the ‘walk’. She stepped around the corner, all sweet allure and charm – or as much as she could muster. She exaggerated her hip movements slightly, letting her arms swing slowly as she caught their attention, sensing that she was suddenly the center of their worlds. Smiles could be seen creeping across their faces as she closed the gap, running her hand through her hair in an attempt to make it look more unkempt and wind-swept. The gap was closed now, her form now snugly in between all of them as she kept her walk to its gentle, rolling speed. She could only hope they would merely let her pass with, at worst, a pat on the bottom. Greedy little pigs, always want a meal given to them rather than work for it she hoped to herself as she kept her small, pouting smile upon her face and took step after step onwards.

[Archelon]

A wise man might say that having the right attitude at the right place in time went a long ways. Walking through a place like you owned it was one such means of keeping yourself safe. But only if one was capable of backing it up. Sometimes being in the wrong place at the right time was enough to make you deader then a piece of road kill or finding out exactly what it was like to have your skull trampled on by a horse's hooves... But luckily for Zandelia, this was not one of those times. Her steps and her saucy little walk past the guards netted the little minx a few whistles of appreciation and a rather rude gesture with a particular finger of the hand that might have been construed as some thug's nice way of asking if she would like to have a tryst. But she kept on walking... and finally passed through the area unharmed... and more importantly: unmolested in record time. But that didn't mean Znadelia display of her saucy effeminite presence hadn't gone unnoticed. From a corner alley a rather hunched over and bulge eyed man muttered some strange words to himself before letting out a slight bit of laughter as he fingered the dagger at his hip. The man was obviously not quite right in the head, but he turned to follow Zandelia's passage. Making whistles and waggling his eyebrows in appreciation as he attempted to attract her attention. His bug eyed, eyes seemed to glance over her body, seeking as if they alone could take luxuries that she wouldn't have willingly given to any man without at least an expensive dinner and alot of inebriatory drinks. What would she do? Would she stop and try to deal with him quickly? Or begin to run?Whatever the choice, she had less then a mile to the doors that would lead her into the gated community, and the relative safety of the patrolling Sun's Birth Dragoons and she couldn't be sure there were not any other... inconveniences later on down the route which might delay her to see if the odd muttering man would catch up. Another wolf whistle from the soily pursuer was followed by a shouted out call, "Hey, hey there. Don't run away lil' lady, I just wanna talk. Yeah that's it. Just talk. Surely you should know Tucka' ain't gonna hurt ya? Right dearie? " Whatever the choice Zandelia made, she would have to make it quickly. oocFeel free to develop this a little now in you next post. I keep a very loose hand on pc's. Don't be afraid to add something to the story. ^-^

[Zandelia]

oocI took your advice and added a little something extra in! I hope it's okay. If it doesn't suit or is going too far then I'll rewrite Zandelia could feel a palpable sense of relief flood through her as the only real attentions she got from the three burly guards amounted to a few whistles, frequent grunts of appreciation and the in numerous offers of sexual gratification that would last a lifetime – which she sincerely doubted judging from their lack of personal hygiene. Still, she accepted these things with an air of impressed surprise, giving them all a wink and a small flick of her fingers for a wave as she finally passed them by and escaped from them around the next corner, her legs feeling slightly shaky and unsteady as she tried to press on as quickly as possible. Her cheeks were reddened from slight embarrassment, having never thought she would have to act in such a way before this day. Still, she assumed they had taken it as evidence of their overflowing machismo, for which she was grateful. Time is ever running out she reminded herself as she dragged herself together and kept up a faster pace now, trying to gain the small amount of time she had lost appraising the previous situation as much as possible. Sadly, that was not to be however, her sparse attempts at rudimentary seduction having worked perhaps a little too well as another man entirely – one whom she had not even seen – began to follow her. She tried to shrug it off and increased her pace, but his voice crept closer, getting louder and his invitations far more lewd and insidious. She began to realize, all too late now, that his strides were quicker than she could hope to match by walking – which left either running, or confrontation. Either one would result in a situation not of her liking, but she knew she had to decide rapidly. “Hey sweetness, slow down and talk for a bit. I bet I could make your day a lot more pleasing than where you’re goin’” came another call out from the man, his voice beginning to crackle with anger and frustration now, a hair’s breadth from cracking. This is what I get for taking a leaf out of a whore’s book she moaned to herself privately as she ducked around the next corner. It was then that she saw, perhaps, a slither of salvation. In front of her now stood a few men, each of them hard looking and the sort to give short-shrift to any whom got in their way. Normally she would have cursed such an occurrence, but at that moment they were a blessing in disguise, if only she could play her hand just right. They had not seen her, and as a vicious shout came from the small alley she had just come from she crouched down to the floor, grabbing a handful of mud and smearing it across her face and the front of her clothing. If what she had in mind was going to work it would need to be damned convincing. To add to the façade she took hold of the sleeve of her jacket and the front of her blouse and tore at it firmly, the ripping sounds melding with the running footsteps from behind her. She ran at the group of men, five of them this time, and let out a shrill and panicked scream, letting herself slip over and into the mud, rolling onto her back to dirty her appearance further. She forced herself back up to her feet with barely enough time to spare as her pursuer rounder the corner with his knife in hand, only to stop and stare at the spectacle unfolding before him. “Help! Please! He’s insane, mad. I have mizas, I’ll pay…anything! Just stop him from getting any closer. Please?!” she out as much wheedling fear and yearning into her words as possible, trying to sway the men into action, to at least take notice and make the assailant retreat with second thoughts perhaps. As he stood, perhaps frozen by surprise, she lurched herself forwards towards the group of men, seeking to get them between herself and the opposition. She did not particularly care if they helped her or not as she was prepared to run the last distance – just under a mile she reckoned now – to the Dragoon Training Grounds. She could slip out of their grasp if they tried to grab her, she was sure. Or at least kick a few of them enough to get loose at any rate, they would expect it from a damsel in distress after all. Come on you bastards, get me out of this mess she railed at them inside her skull as a couple of them seemed to move forwards slightly at her mention of monetary gain. It would seem like a small thing to do for a few mizas after all, to the hardened guardsman.

[Archelon]

ooc***Turtle chuckles at Zand's last post*** This was sunberth... any guard in sunberth especially in the warehouse district was more of a brigand then anything else. Willing to sell their own mothers for a scrap of bread or coin. They were hardened sorts: well roughened by years and years of extortion and blackmail to the merchants so that they might reap profits for the 'safety' of the warehouses they stored their goods in and they didn't take too kindly to anyone who caused a ruckus which might endanger their little schemes. To them the thought of mizas was tempting, but so was the bare skin of a woman's decottalage. Many of them were intrigued by the sight, laughing and snickering. But one of the larger ones, the leader of five thugs who guarded that particular scrap of earth, motioned to a man with a great sword. "Go chop his bloody head off... while I deal with getting paid for our... service to the lady." One of the brutish boys lunged a half step forwards towards the twitchy little fellow named 'Tucka and growled menacingly as he brandished his blade. A simple swing was enough for Tucka to squeak like a mouse and flee off into the side alleys as the rest laughed. The leather faced brute of a leader advanced towards Zandelia with a swagger in his step, and it seemed she would turn to run when his gruff voice hurled out a warning. "Now 'dearie' as the coot was crying. I believe you owe us something for your life... and for letting you pass by our little abode unharmed. I'll take fifteen mizas... for now and leave it be. And ya' best be quick lest I decide to take a little more then miza's my broken little chickadee before I let you fly off. And don't try to run without paying, lest I'll have Beckar feather ya' with 'is crossbow. " The leaders cronies laughed a little at the woman's predicament, a few giving out a slow whistle of appreciation, while one seemed to heft a crossbow at the leader's words. One said, "Oy oy Lucarl, I mean- boss, can't we take a little more than that?" Lucarl, the leader merely growled his displeasure at the man's words, and the stooge was cowed faster then a falling baby bird went splat against the ground. Smiling with a wide smile he turned one eye towards Zandelia and spoke again as he placed one hand on the pommel of the longsword strapped to his back. "So what's it going to be? Girlie? You going to pay up?" Whatever Zandelia would do, there was no guarantee that the men would let her leave if she paid them. But if she ran she run the risk of being feathered by an arrow. A truly interesting predicament. Perhaps this was the reason many who wandered the warehouses knew better to attract attention? Or perhaps what Zandelia had done was the perfect way for her to get out of her last predicament. But had she merely jumped from the firing pan into the fire? Her next actions would clearly decide that in due time... And time was always running out. Especially on this delivery.

[Zandelia]

oocDidn't know what else to do so I pulled a classic! Enjoy! Zandelia found her initial plan to be an instant success, her goal of being rid of the lunatic following her realized before her single green eye in a flash of a few seconds. The coward had not even attempted to shout an insult, but then again he was obviously the stalking type rather than a fighter – and these new men in her life were fighters down to their tiny brains. As she put on the air of one greatly relieved, rubbing at the mud on her face absently, purposefully smearing it a little more to give the impression of the distracted damsel to the watchful and leering group who now blocked the alleyway. She quickly calculated that her options were limited to doing what the leader – this Lucarl apparently – wanted, pure and simple. From one thing to the next, and yet even more males with their thoughts in their trousers. I wonder sometimes how the human race even survives to complete daily tasks! she thought to herself as she gathered her reserves and tugged her clothing closed, or as closed as it could now become. “Of course, of course” she breathed in a rapid manner, as if she were still out of breath and sincerely grateful. “Oh Lucarl, and your boys, my thanks and the mizas you ask for. I said I’d pay and I will” she began, fumbling with the pouch at her waist. She deftly fished out 15 gold mizas, along with five others on top of that. When your life was in someone’s hands it was wise to give them a little more than what they asked for. It made it harder for them to increase the price. Besides, even thugs liked generosity when shown to them. As she counted them out inside the pouch with her dextrous fingers she appraised Lucarl and found him to be, if she was any true judge of character, perhaps somewhat more honourable than the others. He seemed genuinely interested only in the money she could provide, and she prayed fervently he was one of those whom lived by a personally formed code. There are a few, though precious few nowadays. They mostly seem to die she thought as she pulled out her mizas with a flourish and closed the purse quickly afterwards. “Fifteen gold mizas, as asked for…Lucarl” she stated simply, putting a slither of awe into her voice in an attempt to play to what ego he might have. She placed them into his outstretched palm before stepping to the side a few paces, turning to face the other. “And one gold miza for each of you for your brave rescue” she finished, taking the opportunity to flip each of them their allotted payment, off of the tip of her thumb and in rapid succession. Not wanting to let a free gold miza go to waste, or be lost to the grime underfoot, they each lurched out to grab them out of the air. Conveniently she had forced their condition responses to collide with each other, inhibiting their movements as they cursed and swore at each other for getting in the way. She did not wait around to give them more time than that, noting that even the crossbowman had become lax, letting his weapon fall to his side as he sought his own ‘fair’ payment. And now we run! she thought to herself as she spurred into action, no doubt taking them by surprise, leaving their grumbling quickly behind as she made for the next corner. As she rounded it she discovered just how lucky she was to survive as a bolt clattered against the wall where she had been but a few moments previously. She felt her eye widen but could not afford to stop. She increased her pace to a dead sprint, her breathing becoming ragged though she sought to keep it even. Her arms pumped more speed and momentum out of her as she rounded corner after corner, here a right and there a left, before the dragoon training grounds loomed like a blaze of glory in front of her. She all but tumbled into a patrol, avoiding it at the last moment by leaping into the air and twisting her body sideways awkwardly, to the consternation and complaint of those she almost bowled over. She skidded to a halt at the gate, where a guard stood watch, his stern gaze pinning her to the spot – or at least attempting to. “Mac,” she panted to him as she fought to regain her air, “I need Mac. Message for…..him…important” she finished and awaited the directions she knew he would give her. One and one half bells Tua said. Well, it’s not quite been a bell yet. If this bastard guard gives me good direction I could sprint the long way round and still, just barely, make it she thought to herself, imagining the look of Tua’s face if she returned back triumphant.

[Archelon]

The guard of the dragoons looked at Zandelia with an appraising look, gauging her features in disarray with the mud smeared across her face as he just grunted his displeasure at the annoyance. [color=tan]"Pfft. Not so fast Girlie! Geridon's golden balls at ruby's , why the petch you want to deliver a message to one of us? 'Specially Old Mac as he tends to be at the training grounds. Biggest building just to he right o' the gate. Better speak quickly to give me a reason not to gut ya where ya stand woman. You look more like an unwashed street rat than anything I've seen Mac associate wit'!!" Drawing his longsword the dragoon looked at the woman, and her tattered bustier. It was clear he wasn't going to let any trouble in the gate. Especially not a suspicious woman such as her if she was going to see another dragoon... not without some fast talking and reasurrances of course.

[Zandelia]

oocI wasn't sure if telling the guard why she was there is allowed or not under Tua's rules. If it isn;t then I would be more than happy to re-write the post Zandelia’s brain didn’t process what the guard was telling her as fast as she would like, her energies still trying to recuperate themselves after the burst of speed used to get her to the gates she sought. As she blinked a few times at him, incredulity spreading across her face, she could feel the little pieces of new information falling into place, building up a fire within her – an anger that threatened to burst through into the physical world. She gritted her teeth and tried to bite her tongue back from her initial scathing response, though she truly wished to let her tongue fly and have at the measly man. He had drawn his long sword though, and she very much liked her life and wished to carry on living it for years to come. I get all the way bloody here, just to be foiled by a trumped up little bastard who likes to intimidate people at his gate! she raged at herself, barely keeping her fists from balling visibly and lashing out at his face. Instead she pulled open her jacket, slowly, and took out the black envelope from within – little bent from he journey but not overly so. “I am here, to give this message to Mac personally,” she said, holding it up in front of the man’s face with the name facing towards him quite plainly, “and it was sent by a man known as Tua, you know Tua?” she asked him pointlessly – everyone knew Tua – but she turned the missive to show the seal on the back for proof in case it was needed. She doubted that the name or seal would be necessary, as more than a dozen such messages in identical envelopes would have been delivered in the same manner more than once she was sure. Still, sometimes it paid well for others to know you worked for those who could make their lives a living hell should they so choose to do so. She didn’t technically work for him, but the guard did not need to know that piece of information. “So you can either let me in and allow me to get what is most probably a very important message to Mac, or you can turn me away. Of course, I would then be forced to tell exactly why I was unable to deliver said message on time. It’ll cost me my job, but it might cost others slightly more…depending on people’s moods” she finished, tapping her foot impatiently and putting the letter back inside her jacket. And if telling the damnable man is against the rules then at least I get to keep my life, if not get the job she told herself mentally as she let her annoyance show even more and affected an air of affronted vexation. “So, which is it to be because frankly after going through that Warehouse district I couldn’t give a damn one way or the other” she finished, awaiting what she hoped would merely now be a swift admittance.