False Start (Solo)

[Valorae]

The calm of the main room to the sanctum was totally wiped out by the hustle’n’bustle backstage. The girls and boys were running around. The powder in the air was choking, only aggravating Valorae’s throat more it seemed as she started coughing. The large mirrors reflected the many faces of many pretty, pretty girls in their outfits and makeup, the black eyes, the red lips… The boys had their own section further back it seemed, overcome by the sounds of masculine giggling. Passion settled Valorae down at one of the open stations for the girls and pulled another stool over. “Is something wrong with your drink? You haven’t even taken a sip.” Valorae reluctantly brought the glass up to her lips and took a drink of the wine. She blinked, thinking about how bitter it was, and the dry feeling it left in her mouth. “Good, isn’t it? One of my favorites. Now, let’s see here… Honey, hun, yes, go grab me a bowl of water and a cloth from the clean up station, alright,” she ordered one of the girls who seemed ready as it was. She left for the materials, but not before checking Valorae out. Valorae sized the girl up. She wasn’t much more intimidating than the messenger she just beat up. She could take her… “Now, what happened? It pains me every time I see such beautiful girls out there being treated like this. You just let me know if it was that god forsaken Brega. The harlot doesn’t have a clue how to properly operate a business of this stature. Come now, you can tell me anything.” It sound so promising at first, and Valorae had to fight the temptation to spill her guts about the last numberless days. Passion seemed truly empathetic for Valorae, and maybe she could help her out. Surely she could help Valorae get away from her captors, right? Then again…look how easily Valorae had slipped into the Gated Community come day. Furthermore, that would mean prolonging her exact vengeance. She wasn’t in the position to do that. She sugar coated the story for Passion so she could at least explain why she was beaten up. “I got in a fight, with some man and woman,” she said. It was the truth, not the whole truth, but still the truth. The not-so-whole-truth came out easier and easier with each addition, “I went to pick up a message from them. I have to pick up a message from all of these people. It’s my job,” she said. Calling it a job felt strange. She wasn’t exactly in business with her captors, or was she. That was still a gray area considering the hell she was put through, only to be told it was a lie. “I missed my first appointment, and had an argument with the last one – “ “I see, I see…go on, please,” Passion encouraged her, still sipping at her drink. It had a fruity scent now that it was so close to Valorae. “Well, that’s about it really. I’ve been…working very hard for the past few days. I…quit my old job. Things just weren’t going well with my employer. He did things like this,” she said referencing her face, “On a…daily basis.” Valorae let out a long breath trying to keep herself in check. Passion looked like she was nearly moved to tears. Valorae couldn’t tell if she was mocking her or what. “Here you go, Passion,” said the girl with her delivery. She gave Valorae another look packed with a bunch of attitude before she walked away towards a group of girls chatting near stage right. “Here, let me get it,” Passion said, stopping Valorae for reaching for anything. “Just hold still, the blood seems a bit dry…just let me... Oo, ooo, steady now,” Passion commanded. She had the dampened wash cloth gently rubbing over the blood. It pulled at Valorae’s skin. Passion dared to pull parts off if they were flaking enough. Each pull the wrong way was met with a jerk or jolt from Valorae, but she tried to cooperate. She figured passion only had the best of intentions. “There we go,” said Passion with a job well done. The blood was cleaned off of Valorae. Her nose was clearly bruised now, and her lip busted. There were bruises on her neck starting to show too, ugly things. “So, tell me about this fight you had. Did you lose?” Valorae laughed at first but contained herself again. “Nope. There was a mistake in our orders. It seemed the man thought he was supposed to deliver the message. He was mistaken.” “Sounds cryptic,” Passion answered. She seemed to be in her own world though, just acknowledging that there was a conversation even if she wasn’t part of it. The sanctum’s owner was much more concerned about Valorae’s appearance. She was powdering Valorae’s neck and chest. it wasn’t until she got in Valorae’s face with it that the ethaefal started coughing. Fighting the coughs and trying to continue her story, Valorae covered her mouth and nose and spoke in a muffled tone. “It really is. This city is full of secrets. It’s a hassle sometimes.” “Mhmm, mhmm, I know exactly what you mean. It’s like that whore, brega, can’t believe a thing she says. Close your eyes…” Valorae felt something smeared over her lid and under her lower one with a brush. It felt a tad bit greasy. Then there was a pricking, something sharp tracing her eyes, just not enough to break skin. “Good, good, now open, and look…up.” Passion continued her artistic application to Valorae’s facial canvas. “So, who’s this ex-employer of yours? Apparently not Brega,” Passion stopped and looked Valorae in half made-up eyes for a moment, her tone utterly serious, “Whatever you do after you leave my hands, avoid that Brega the Whore. She’s no good,” Passion said with a pat on Valorae’s nose with powder again. Val sneezes and coughed again. “Hold still…” Valorae held still as Passion took the sharp tool of her and traced over her inner lids carefully. Valorae was blinking and tearing, but Passion had a delicate enough grip to get the job done. In the meantime, Valorae told her half-truth about her previous “employer.” “His name is Malum…He –“ “Lips still. Don’t talk.” Valorae shut her mouth and held still as Passion caked her lips in a different sort of red. “Take a sip of your drink.” Valorae obeyed, and it left a light print on the glass. “I’m so sorry, I – “ “Still, still…okay, and, yes, try it again. No, over here,” Passion commanded rotating the glass after having applied more of the stain. The next sip left a darker, more solid red mark on the glass. “Perfect…Now just some touch ups…” Passion went at Valorae with blushes and a comb. A final spray, or maybe two, three, of some fine smelling bottle and she looked content with her creation. Passion rotated Valorae in her seat to face the mirror. The ethaefal’s lips broke apart in awe, her bountiful lashes batting in her reflection, her hair gracefully parted over her divine crown, lips so red and lush. Passion’s warm hand grabbed hold of Valorae’s shoulders and looked in the mirror too making more adjustments to the ethaefal’s hair. She seemed to have missed something – say a set of “horns” sprouting from Valorae’s head – and made the necessary changes. Passion’s hovering presence over Valorae fluttered from one side to the next, constantly critiquing her own work. At long last, Passion broke the immediate silence between the two. “Well, do you like it?"

[Valorae]

Passion’s critical stare softened as she recognized Valorae’s astonishment. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, gently smiling now. “Come with me, I want to show you what we’re all about here.” Valorae was still stunned in the moment, unable to recognize herself in the mirror. The dark waters of a puddle never did such justice to the grim coated face of some poor body from the streets. She had been sickly thin before her captors got a hold of her, and for the most part improved in their care. She was wholesome again, attractively so, statuesque truly. With the right pastels, Ruby was about to bring out the highlights of the Ethaefal. She was glowing, radiantly so. Passion took Valorae by the shoulders and stood her up. Some girls were mumbling about the scene, why some tramp should get such special care. What did Passion see in Valorae? What did this girl clad in ragged boots and leather, with a sword no doubt – hardly a woman by any standard – do to deserve such attention? It could just be networking of course, but then why – “This should be a good spot. Though it’s not the lounge, I like to see what my customers see. It’s all about the angle you see, and the lighting. It’s usually a bit darker, and we have the torch lights. It brings a real warmth to the girls.” Ruby “Passion” clapped her hands from the front, center table before the stage. Rehearsal was about to begin. Valorae was seated alongside her for this prime view from the floor. The Ethaefal knew not what to expect. The glitz and glam of the Sanctum had already caught her off guard; she had no idea what Passion’s next surprise would be. Quickly though, Valorae was falling for Passion. Unaware of the Sanctum’s reputation, Valorae was actually finding herself comfortable here in spite of all challenges directed toward her outsider presence. “Alright girls! Take it from the top. Boys, be ready for your first number. I just want to check the intros right now. I think we’ve exhausted the rest of the tunes. No need to strain your voices, hmm? Right then, places!” Passion orchestrated the show by sheer will power. Several of the guys and girls took their places in, some in the rafters, others alongside the stage, and more in the walls behind curtains of velvet. The shrieking of a flute pieced out from behind the stage left fixture, the red curtain gently drawing apart as the note was carried on, reaching to the furthest walls of the Sanctum. The woman playing was covered in very little cloth, but much makeup. What seemed like scales from the audience were darkened in shades of violent and indigo to match her own surreal eyes, or at least what was visible of them; she wore a mask. This noise came to a halt and her eyes shut gently, revealing some other cosmetic illusion of painted eyes. The Konti woman seemed to have some unnatural affinity for music. From high above the thumping of a drum faded in to the room. Valorae felt her chest pulse with the vibrations of the instrument as if a second heart beat, losing herself to the music. The flute started again, the woman’s body rocking and swaying with the music. Another young woman came from the other side, her costume and makeup matching (save for the scales), with her whole body shaking to set the pace with the rattles in her hands. She held them high and shook them with her whole body. Thump, thump, went the drum, followed by a scale from the flute, thump, thump, and the same harmonious scale played. The violent shaking of the rattlers died down to a quick one, two…one, two…one, two, Valorae’s heartbeat, one, two… A well-contained trail of oil that lined the stage was set alight at both sides, the flame swiftly traveling and merging near the center stage. Valorae’s own eyes was too busy watching the lights to see the main curtain open up, the girls already in their places. Snap, snap, their fingers cracked, the air breaking. Valorae returned her focus to the girls now set alight by the gentle flickering flames. Indeed, the light that came through the windows had an effect on the lights, though it was dismissible. The walls kicked out from below the rattlers and flute, two lutes now joining them, one playing to the higher scale of the wind instrument, the other reaching down low. A voice sang to the melody of the flute and left stage lute, “Welcome to our Scarlet Sanctum…” Her voice was clear, heart seeking, rather than being clouded by any raunchy tones from any other brothel in town. Valorae, as well as the customers who would come in tonight, would be treated to quite the show. On the down beat, the soprano started her strut down the cat walk, flashed the audience of two a tease, and then continued back upstage where she took her pose on the right. One by one the girls came down, their voices and appearances all very different, very exotic, yet with the commonality of their beauty. Their voices ranged from the highest; sweetest that took your breath away, down to those that came from the heart, a deep, chest voice that made your whole body quiver to the soul core. Valorae took notice that she was noticed; some girls shot her a glare on their turn while others kept focused on their work. They wouldn’t simply welcome her. Soon all the girls had introduced themselves and were lined up in their pose, dainty hands draped over each other. This playful whorehouse cast came together as a sisterhood, each girl bringing her own personality and strengths of entertainment to the group. They emitted an undying aura of confidence now unified. There was something for every customer to enjoy here. The music died down. Valorae found herself counting one, two three, four…one, two, three, four, mimicking the rhythmic count of the lute and flute in their scales though they had stopped. Her foot was tapping too, and it didn’t stop. Somehow she knew it wasn’t over. The whole band started again and the girls broke out dancing. Valorae noticed Passion’s own excitement as well, her own body jutting out and rocking to every wrist snap, head swing, hip shift, or fluctuation of their chests. In singles or pairs they all seemed to have a long to sing, formally introducing the girls by name with any other suggesting element that can be tossed in. Every girl has something to brag about it seemed. The routine took off with a hit, the music turning to its highs and lows, the girls hanging on and off the stage. Each of them emitted confidence in their appearance and work as if it fell right out of their shirts while hanging upside down. Valorae envied them. “I hope I’m not disrupting you, Passion,” said a deep, handsome voice from behind the seated pair. Valorae’s hand reached to her hilt as swiftly, and stealthily, as she could, her elbow side swiping the rim of the table. She didn’t draw the blade on the voice, but rather turned to him. If she was a target, he wouldn’t have given her a chance. It irked her deeply that she had been caught off guard so easily, especially on the job. Blood Pits, haha, to believe she thought she had a chance…comical! Passion was right on the case with her infinite hospitality. “Hello! You know we don’t open until later!” Passion introduced the dashingly handsome man to Valorae, and her to him. Her grip lessened from her sword, but her chest seemed to tighten up. Assuming he did not lie about his name, this was the man she was meant to kill. She worried little about his superior stature, and more about the sin it would be to kill something so beautiful. The utopia of the Ukalas, if not her reincarnation, had softened the Myrian that sought to conquer the mystery of the Falyndar jungle years ago. He shot Valorae a glance accompanied by a charming smile. Frozen, she merely stared back letting Passion’s work of facial art say all there was to be said.

[Valorae]

“I was just stopping by, actually,” he stated. “I do have something for you though, dearest Passion,” he continued while reaching into his jacket, thusly pulling out a sealed note. Valorae’s eyes locked on the paper as it passed from his hand to her, and finally resting in her bosom. “Thank you, dear. I’ll be seeing you later then?” “Naturally.” “Take care,” she said, sending him off. A spur of the moment, jolt of her memory, moved Passion to jump when she turned back to Valorae. “You had business with him didn’t you? Oh goodness!” She called out for him, but he was already gone. “Go get him before he gets away. There’s never any way to get a hold of people in time in this city. No bloody wonder so many of them get cut! Go on now, we’ll talk more after.” Valorae jumped up and scurried out the doors of the Sanctum as quickly as she could without sprinting for her target. The passing moments of the day had taken a toll on her emotions. The world was different now; people brought it to a whole new light. Locked in a box without a light to hope for was miserable. They tried to strip her of hope, but that takes years, instead they merely stole her dignity. She’d do anything for them now to keep her life now wouldn’t she, to hope that she wouldn’t be discarded like these messengers? This man though, and Passion, they showed her a different part of the world that she had forgotten. Finding it now, once again, Valorae wouldn’t let it slip away. The Ethaefal caught side of him turning the corner and sprinted after him drawing her sword in advance. Rounding the side of a building, Valorae snagged hold of the man, the sword pressed to his neck immediately. She was shorter than him, but it meant little for the reach of her blade. The man’s face was calm while hers was overcome by a lusting storm inside of her. “What did you give Passion,” she asked. “What business of yours is it?” “I don’t have time for this.” “Nor do I,” he said, gesturing down. A stiletto was neatly tucked under Valorae’s armor. He need merely give it a little push and the blade would find her heart and end her. “What is it you want?” Pressing the short sword a little harder on his skin, the blade needing merely slide to break skin in the slightest, she answered his question thusly, “I have a request for your message, and quite possibly your life. Some very powerful people want this information, and if I don’t get it, they’ll probably kill me. So if you’d please…the letter.” He chuckled lightly deceiving the tension of the moment. “What do you think happens to me if I don’t deliver that message? Do you think I just get to walk away and live on? And what then, do I just run around delivering more messages I’ll lose? There are places in this town I’ve been to and would truly prefer to never return to again. You haven’t thought about it that way, have you? You’re beautiful by the way.” Valorae dropped her guard in time for the man to grab hold of her wrist and pull her arm away with ease. He withdrew his own dagger and sheathed it. Although Valorae kept her sword at arms to attack, the man paid little attention to her weapon. He started to dig through the inner pockets of his jacket. He held his arm out with another sealed letter for her. At any time she could chop his hand off if she felt the need. “Consider it a gift,” he said, coyly cocking his head to the side, his charming grin showing again, “It’s a fake anyway. Or is it? Do you trust me?” He seemed to be analyzing her while she sized him up and reached for the letter. “No.” “So you’ll kill me then?” “No…” “How decent of you. I’ll just tell the recipient, recipients perhaps, that I lost it. Surely it’s not my favorite excuse, but it might be alright that way. Hopefully I won’t get in too much trouble for losing a decoy. This live bait job isn’t too pleasant anyway. Maybe I’m due for a career change?” Valorae was unresponsive to his flirtatious conversation, his teasing, taunting, and wondering. She had not yet been exposed to such mannerisms in this life, and found herself hypnotized by his appearance, his smell, more than anything. He took it as a hint of rejection, or maybe he thought she was playing hard to get. He obliged her choice for the moment though, and his tone changed drastically. Shoulders now squared, his face filled with calm, neutral features, he addressed her once more, “I think you can use it more than I can anyway. You sound to be in a bit of a bind with bad company. Do yourself a favor and get out. There’s nothing good here in Sunberth. In my own experience, they bark more than they bite when it comes to peons like yourself in their hierarchies. Someone needs to do the dirty work, and it takes too much work to beat you senseless to do as they please. So get out while you can; get out of this business, get out of this city before you find yourself in too deep, before you can’t run away anymore.” He graciously bowed before Valorae and waved her off, “I wish you well, Valorae. Perhaps we can meet tonight?” She shook her head. “Pity. Good luck to you then.” He was gone. Valorae crammed the note into her bosom and wondered if her captors would ever know what she had done, or rather didn’t do. Hopefully they wouldn’t know one got away. She sluggishly sheathed her blade and returned to the Sanctum.

[Valorae]

“All’s well then?” Valorae answered by nod. “You really mustn’t be well. Go ahead, finish off your drink and relax a little bit. I wanted to talk to you a bit anyway.” Sometime during her leave the girls had finished up and the stage was empty. The hollering of the guys backstage, some whining as well, could be heard. Some of them gathered, singing a capella, probably warming up. Passion wasted little time taken advantage of the relative silence between them to pitch her case. “You liked him didn’t you? He liked you too. He’s always nervous around other women he likes when I’m around. I can smell it, as with all men, even the queer ones. Makes my work a bit easier too. Some women can be questionable, but you, you definitely liked him.” Valorae seemed more amused with her wine than Passion’s analysis, but she was listening intently. This Passion character has a good sense of people. Valorae was more shocked she didn’t catch hint of her hostility. “[colo=red]You’re a pretty thing, Val. May I call you Val? I think you’d be a fine addition to the cast too, if you’re up for it. Can you sing? Dance? Do you play any instruments? Any hidden stage talents…bedroom talents…? Tell me, tell me![/color]” Passion’s excitement spewed all over Valorae’s face. The Ethaefal needed to pause and wipe away these ponderings before she got into more unnecessary business. “I can’t do any of that. You made me beautiful.” “I just exaggerated all of your good parts, hon. Surely you can sing. Everyone can sing. I admit, some better than others,” Passion said, her hand resting on her chest, “but I do believe we can all sing. Take Brega for example: sure she needs a bed, but she reaches new heights. I give her that much. It sounds like a grand performance sometimes, some bard’s epic being told. Try this. Listen, and then match me.” Passion sang a middle C, nothing difficult or obscure. After finishing her drink off – the only thing that could be done while Passion was talking without offending her – Valorae listened closely. “Okay, now do as I do. Deep breath and…” Passion lead, and Valorae followed after her. Her voice, though short of angelic, was impressive. The quivering of her voice found its way to the music. She had never done this before. The man at the bar gave her a whistle and Valorae quickly shut up. “Keep your pants on! Don’t mind him, now let’s try something a little higher.” Passion seemed to have a sense of Valorae’s voice and went up an entire octave, the same note. Valorae matched it and suddenly she started to truly shine. Passion took her up, and up, the Ethaefal matching her at every pitch. There wasn’t much form to it. By the time they reached high C, Valorae was out of breath. “You’ll grow, dear, don’t worry. Let’s try that one again, a deep breath and…” Passion led again. Valorae took a deep breath, started and then let out a hic-up, abruptly ending her spree of musical talent. They continued to interrupt and haunt her. The Ethaefal quickly clamped her hands over her mouth, jumping up with each attack. A snort of laughter came from the stage, a woman’s. The girls had apparently been listening in, and a few of the boys. There were a mixture of begrudging and humbled looks from the girls. Passion herself was just left smiling. “I need to – hic! I need to go.” “Right, of course you do. Business must be done! Let me see you out. I’d really like to meet with you again sometime. If you need anything, anything, you know where to find me. I don’t get out much these days. Business! Ha! Keeps me as busy as can be here!” Passion let Valorae go. The hiccup cursed Ethaefal went on her way back towards the main square of the Gated Community.

[Valorae]

Valorae dug the list back out of her breasts for another look, her hiccups persisting. She was heading for the gate, more accurately back to the slums. Besides her unfinished business – a nerve rattling thought on its own – she had someone else to take out there. This of course meant passing Jaren again. “Back so soon?” “Keep the gate op – hic… Keep the gate open for me,” she rushed. “Only you.” Valroae managed to evade Jaren’s touch this time, though comments of rear ends danced on tongues among the guards. The moments passed as Valorae traversed Sunberth’s now animated streets. The slums suddenly seemed more active now with faces rising from the floors to reluctantly greet another day. Syna’s blazing light seemed to blind them, while it only invigorated her. She kept on the move, doing her best to find a listed address, some landmark, whatever it took to get to the listed apartment for this next target. Her last encounter had left her confused about what she was really doing. The man was attractive, yes, but there was something more to him. Valorae struggled at once to wipe away all clouding thoughts and focus on the matter at hand. She was approaching the address, but overheard a conversation in passing. Through the open window of one of the buildings, she could eavesdrop on an argument. It seemed word had spread that someone had died, murder, cold blood, the Gated Community apartments…it was her, she did it, and people knew. Valorae ducked to the side of the building and hid below the overhanging window sill. Footsteps sounded as the informer stomped over to close the shudders, but not before surveying the street. She went unnoticed. This crouching position was all sorts of awkward for her, but she was hesitant to move as the man directly above her was talking. There was tension and a vague sense of hostility about the situation. “I saw them taking the bodies out of the apartments, all wrapped up nice and wet with blood. There aren’t no damn spirits that do that. It looked like a bloody slaughter ta’ me.” “Funny, I heard it was little more than a brawl. Rumors has it the old woman who runs the place let one slip through. Too bad he didn’t leave us any trail.” “Precisely, like a spirit! We’re not even safe conducting business in the community. We’re left with this dump instead!” The sound of wood cracking off the floor echoed, Valorae flinching. She deciced she had to move. This was a bad position to be caught in all together, and people were starting to stare. At the same time she didn’t want to give herself away. Her movements were slow and mechanical as she came to a knee and settled in what seemed to be a more relaxed position. She was fighting the sound of squeezing or rubbing leather on her way; she kept a hand firmly on her hilt to make sure the sword didn’t scrape the wrong way giving up her position. The little things mattered when it came to trying to be stealthy. For the moment she was successful, or those she was spying on were simply too caught up in their own conversation. She continued to gather what intelligence, if any, she could. “Like the morning mist your so called spirit has faded from our sight then. What am I to do about it?” “Just be careful, brother. Here’s the letter. Be sure you’re careful with it.” “This isn’t my first job.” “Would you just accept my blessing? Damn your antics.” “Damn your superstitions. I’ll see you and mom for dinner then?” “Aye, step carefully.” There was a brief shuffling of paper before a set of footsteps marched out from the room to an opposing door. Valorae just realized she lost her target. The Ethaefal drew her blade springing from her crouched stance. Tearing the shutters apart wide, she jumped up onto the will with a knee and followed through into the room. The clap of her boots on the old, wooden floor seemed to frighten the man who stood opposite her. He was trapped, like a rat. The glint of the sun ricocheted from her blade to the ground between them, only briefly as Valorae closed the shudders behind her.

[Valorae]

“Thanks for the advice,” she said in greeting. The man were frozen without a place to go or sword to swing. At first he looked at the door as if to run, but a flash of the sword Valorae’s wielded turned his gaze back to her. There was silence, neither one wanting to spoil the moment. He gave in, inevitably, and broke the calm moment with frantic words. “What do you want,” he asked. “That letter. You must be…” Valorae read the name off the list, explained the address and time. She apologized, in closing, for her lateness. “That’s too bad then, isn’t it?” “Tell me where he has gone to then.” “The docks, now leave me.” Valorae wasn’t fond of being blown off. She wasn’t really in shape for another full blown brawl like before. So far she had proved to be intimidating enough to keep this man at bay. There was a cry from an adjacent room, someone asking for a drink, and old, sickly, feminine voice. The calm on the man’s face turned to horror. He had been protecting her, caring for her. No wonder he cared so little for himself in this moment of time. Her horns jutted out from under the hood of the cloak, letting the hood dangle in front of her darkened eyes. Standing against the faint light of the closed up window, the only thing there was to really make out were her bloody red lips, like a beast hungering. She flashed a grin and turned her blade to the room. The man seemed to tense further, yet he was unsure on how to proceed. Valorae read this as fear. She took careful steps closer to the room, sure to keep the blade between the two of them. He gingerly followed in her steps trying to keep a safe distance, yet wanting to be ready if he needed. Valorae walked into the room where she found a sickly elder woman in what seemed to be a makeshift bed. Sheets and rags were crossed and spear in alteration, some poorly stitched together or folded for blankets and pillows. She seemed to be ill beyond the frailties of her age. The veil of sweat on her crowd suggested a fever. Her thinning white hair looked greasy, and she smelled of excrements. She must be stuck here. This poor man had given his time to care for her, some woman who had spent her years and was ready to die. She contributed nothing to his life. Valorae was ignorant that she was still his mother, or simply had forgotten what it was like to have one. Laviku had birthed her in this life time, and she did not even know his name. “Who’s there?” “It is I, mother. What do you need?” “A drink, please.” “Right away.” The man left for a drink. Valorae wandered closer to the near side of the woman, crouching beside her. “You smell of blood…and death.” “And you look of it.” The Ethaefal held her blade close in her hand, the tip waving over the woman. She was blind too, it seemed. “Did you raise a liar?” “Haha…have you come for me, reaper? Do you mock my life?” “Your son has something I want.” “We have nothing more to give you. You bastards have taken all we’ve ever had.” The man returned to find Valorae settled beside his mother and crossed the room to present his mother the drink from a saver point. She slowly sipped away at it. Her mouth was old and rotting, the teeth remaining were dark and discolored, falling apart in her own mouth. Valorae caught the scent of her bad breath. This old woman had the nerve to say Valorae reeked of death? “Who is this woman,” she asked as she finished her drink. “A hoodlum, nothing more.” “Is she one of those god forsaken Daggerhands? I’ll kill her, I’ll kill her!” Her voice rose to a volume Valorae didn’t think her capable of. The man was quickly reaching over to calm her, caring little for the sword that wavered in his face. “You’re not a Daggerhand, are you?” He was insisting more than he was asking. He knew his mother was pained by the gang and wanted to ease her. “I’m no Daggerhand,” Valorae answered. “I’m simply a messenger. Your son has my message.” Repetitive? Yes. Flat and uninteresting? Yes. Everything the man had said about Valorae before, the attractive one she let get away, it was true. She was a tool, an instrument of destruction. She didn’t care about others. There wasn’t room to care. She just wanted to get away. She wanted to run, but knew she couldn’t. Somehow, she knew they’d know, that she’d get caught, and punished or killed. She was truly a child in the world again despite her appearances. She had much to learn still. The Ethaefal’s eyes looked to the man’s as her sword glided through the air toward his mother’s throat. She flicked the blade, the metallic ringing making up for the silence between them. The man was sweating, his eyes rapidly surveying the circumstances as he tried to reason through the situation. Valorae watched him, squirming and suffering. “He’s on his way to an apartment, something near Silvertongue’s.” Valorae turned her blade to the man, no loose ends after all. Her heart began to race, but she hid it this time the best she could, not wanting to give away her weakness. “Mother, I’m going out,” he said resting a hand on her shoulder. The woman’s arms sprung up and wrapped over Valorae’s arm. The Ethaefal fell forward on the woman. She started screaming. “Run, my son, run! Help! Someone help!!” The man hesitated for a split second, his eyes meeting Valorae’s his full of fear, hers as well. The old woman had a firm grip on her arm. She was cursing Valorae, and screaming bloody murder to all who would hear her. “What’s wrong? I heard screaming,” said the familiar voice outside. “I was just across the street.” “Praise the gods you are well. There’s a woman, she has come for you, for the letter.” “So your spirit has a face after all. Come, let us end her.” Valorae broke from the of old woman’s grasp and drove the sword up through her gut. Blood rushed and splattered out as she hastily removed the blade and put her back against the wall. She heard them now, their footsteps rushing to the room. The tables had turned; Valorae was now trapped within this slum shack. She hunched over near the wall and peeked out, her head withdrawing as they stepped through the portal into the main room. “In there,” said the elder, smaller one. The sliding of steel sounded as someone drew a blade. The emotion of the moment seemed to fade away. This was a fair fight if they chose to draw blades on her. Valorae prepped herself for the confrontation. It would be brief. The eldest of the two foolishly hurried to mother when Valorae’s blade met his abdomen from around the corner. The blade went clean through, and he quickly dropped to the floor sliding off her steel to his death. The younger and more threatening of the two stopped in the main room after his brother fell. “Come out, coward.” “Your mother’s dead,” she taunted from the bedroom. Valorae was loosening the cloak she had on and let it rest on her shoulder. He tried to step quietly toward her. She wasn’t sure what he had on him, what he was capable off… it was a treacherous circumstance. She had little choice on the matter though. Valorae stood up and advanced the man from around the corner. The cloak was tossed out to blind him, and she followed behind it with a lunge, her arm extending outward. The man’s sword pierced the cloak with ease and cut up her shoulder, her own blade sinking into his side. The pommel of his sword crashed down on her shoulder and sent her tumbling. They were both wounded, and neither of them seemed to be in the mood for an extended conflict. He went to the window and pushed the shutters open. “This is what you want,” he asked, drawing the letter from his jacket. He bit the page and tore it in half, spitting and throwing the message out the window. “Go get it.” How frustrating… It was only a moment later that their swords clashed. Swipes and lunged were dodged and parried, neither side landing a single blow. They played carefully, each of them, both on the defensive, neither one able to get the upper hand, to surprise the other. Valorae swung back against his lunge and followed back with a cut on his arm. They reset as he crossed the room to assess his wound. The human in his arrogance hollered out his battle cry and charged her. Valorae parried another blown and grabbed him. They tumbled to the floor, the man under her blade, his hands clutching the hilt. Both of their hands violently trembled, the man fighting he Ethaefal’s weight in order to keep the steely cold touch of death from his heart. It took a little bounce, but the blade cut into him, his concentration broke, and he left the world. Valorae collected herself, cleaned the scene of her presence, the cloak, her sword. She quickly ripped cloth from either man's clothing and wrapped her arm, a crude bandage to cover the shoulder wound. Leaping out the window she chased the pieces of paper. There was no real wind to blow them in this back alley. No one really paid attention to trash on the street. She counted the pieces by putting them together. She had the whole message, and folded it back into her breasts. Valorae reached to her neck and mouth. She was bleeding; her cheek was cut somewhere in the brawl. She hadn’t noticed. Killer instincts allowed her to void all pain until it was safe to sleep. When would that be now that she had so much blood on her hands, murderers beside her and after her. She walked back to Ruby’s paying Jaren no attention. The feeling was mutual as the guard was more concerned with the murder in the apartments no one seemed to know anything about. It made the residents nervous. Surely they knew there was nowhere safe in Sunberth, no place in this world was safe.

[Valorae]

It was easier with each conflict. In a day she had gone from a rat in a pen to a sword on the streets. But she had no choice! How would Krysus respond to such a thing? Did any of those she killed have any ties to the divine? Did Syna see what she had done? Was his why she had returned? When she entered the Scarlet Sanctum, she merely took a seat in the far back corner, somewhere under the vision of the VIP box. Passion caught sight of her at one point. A cloth was brought to the Ethaefal, warm and wet. Passion must have been busy getting ready or dealing with business. Valorae pressed the compress to her face and drifted off. When she woke up, she had been moved. Everything she brought with her had been left to her. “Oh good, you’re awake. You can leave now.” One of the girls barked at her the moment she Ethaefal lifted her head. She had no idea how long it had been. First she checked she had her sword, and next that she had the notes with her still. She had not been violated. It must have been late afternoon now. Her divine ornaments still adorned her crown, Syna still floated on high. Not for much longer, surely. Outside, on stage apparently, there was already a show in the works. From where the Sanctum was positioned, the sun couldn’t interfere with the night time façade of the stage. Valorae slipped through the back exit to the main room and sought Passion. “Sleep well? I managed to find that man you were looking for. He’s over there. Looks kind of rough for me. Are you sure he’s the man?” Valorae barely had a clue what Passion meant until she rattled off the name. It was him, and he looked terribly tense and nervous. “He must be queer,” Passion said without much prompt, “I’ve never known a man on the job to not be taken away by my girls. He mustn’t be too comfortable about it. Might be his first time. I never met him, personally. Ooo, look who’s that?” Passion’s cooing brought Valorae’s attention to a new man entering the Sanctum. He went directly for the bar, ordered some drink – “Ugh, what cheap taste.” – and approached her man. After a sip and brief exchange of words, the glass was set down and both men were heading for the exit. Valorae briefly pardoned herself from Passion’s presence and chased after them back into the streets.

[Valorae]

The lead man shifted his gaze to the side and back while he turned the corner to an alley, her man following behind. Valorae tried to give them room to breathe and pursued after them. She had still not fully awoken, and her wounds from the day seemed more noticeable. She was aching. An arm rounded the corner and grabbed her by the leather over her chest, jerked her back and slammed her against the stone wall of the Sanctum’s exterior. Her hand was caught, her blade stuck in its sheath. The other man had a dagger drawn and was coming for her neck. When she tried to scream, a hand came right over her mouth. She was dead. Something guided her, moved her. Her knee came up into the man’s crotch and she got a hold of his hand in her teeth and bit down like no other. Curses aired across the alley and soon after Valorae’s screams. Murder, she screamed, she screamed of rape and murder. The lead man went down reaching to count his gonads while the dagger wielder, her man, approached. Valorae drew her sword helplessly against him. He only had a dagger, but he was much larger and imposing. In the dark alley, the scuffle went on while the echo of clanking metal sounded from over yonder. The dragoons had heard her scream, and in light of today’s events were responding promptly. Valorae squared off with her man. Her insecurities showed themselves like the tears that came down her face. In that brief moment of hopeless captivity in the man’s arms, she saw death, and rejected him. She feared death, immensely, and this became her tool. Fear, it scares us, yes, but is it not also the tool by which we seek progress, for fear of our failures? Is fear also not the tool by which we seek to please, to survive, to do so much? Fear moved Valorae to defend herself when she could not. She was scared right now, and her heart was racing, her eyes tearing up, but she would not go away silently. He taunted her, slashing at the air between them. Valorae’s arm and blade made wide anxious movements to keep the dagger away from her. For all her moments of calm she had been caught off guard now, and was excessively alert to the situation, perhaps too alert. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!” He pulled the letter he was to exchanged and waved it infront of her. The task that seemed so trivial this morning had become the most daunting she had ever faced in this life time. He made another false start at her and she swung out at him. He quickly took advantage of the moment and closed the gap between them. Though she brought her sword in close it barely blocked the dagger from finding her chest. The thin steel carved up her guard arm. The dragoons were upon them already, seemingly unaware of who started the whole ordeal. There were only two of them. From the screams and apparent situation, quick assumptions were made. “Behold, the murderers! Stop!” The man on the ground drew his dagger and was quickly ended by the long sword piercing his chest. The other guard was coming for the pair of them. Valorae slid her arm along the blade and snatched the note from his hand. The angry face’s attention was torn between the two of them. He tossed Valorae to the ground and turned to face the dragoon. Hidden under her cloak, Valorae shakily stuffed the letter into her bosom amongst the rest. She could feel her heart leaping from her chest. She needed to get out. The later of the dragoons finished with the man on the ground and the two soon ganged up on the man. Valorae took advantage of the situation, stealthily crawling around the corner, the dark, tattered cloak still covering her backside. Once she got to the other side of the Sanctum she quickly started for the gate. She was done, it was too much, she had failed her mission, they would take her life, it was over, she wasn’t made for this. She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t stay. Her world became a swirl on contradictions as she dizzily passed through the gate back toward the slums. What had she become in this life time, a whore, a slave, a murderer, some rat for others to toy with, the bitch they would order to when they wanted her to roll over, to do a trick? Who were they that she was expected to deliver messages? Who was she expected to call lord? Were there lords in this life time? Valorae’s world was fading in and out of reality. The overcasting shadows changed forms between structures of man and nature, buildings and mountains, signs and trees; the faces of the people around her changed shapes and colors, eyes staring back to her in some sort of reminiscent moment. What was this clawing in her mind, this idea she could not understand? What were these delusions of the world that haunted her? She remembered. She remembered! Valorae lapsed into unconsciousness as she grasped her bleeding arm to stop what bleeding she could. Did the blade sink in so deep? She found herself up against a wall looking up into the westward sun as her sensations still shifted between the different phases. She wrapped herself in her cloak and sank back to stare at the different hues of the sun. There was something strange about them. They seemed redder in this jungle world. Falyndar was it? The name seemed familiar, and Myri. Who was Myri? Myri-Myrian, had she been called that, Myrian? What was she? The silhouette of a youth came before her, his face changing with the phases. It seemed she knew this boy. He leaned in closer asking, “Are you alright?” She got a clear look at him once he was close enough and the sun was blotted from her view. The scenery of Sunberth took over her sensations as she sat there dumbfounded staring at the boy from this morning. He didn’t recognize her.

[Valorae]

Valorae’s hand slid under her cloak to her sword hilt, but kept her eyes on him. It was a swift lash outward. The boy clutched his throat with his hands and fell to his knees. Valorae ascended, pulling the hood away from her face and body. The sun set, leaving Valorae’s fantastic transformation as the last thing he saw. She stood over him, over Sunberth, cold and dominant. As soon as the life left him, noted by the fading look of shock as his wide eyes calmed, she proceeded to loot the body for anything of value, especially that dam letter. She found one, and though she was unsure if it was the same one from this morning was uncertain. It was something at least. She wrapped the body in the cloak and leaned him up against the wall where she had sat before. She kicked the dirt over the blood before she headed back toward Callik’s residence. *** Well, she didn’t get them all, but Callik wouldn’t need to know that. He could assume the worst from her appearance. Would he laugh? The whole while she played an aggressive hand, and now suffered for it, well, maybe not the whole time. Those last two men and the dragoons, the boy…that handsome man, she implemented some alternatives. Thanks the gods – no, thank luck? Thank someone besides those divines who sit around all day for nothing that she had been fighting messengers and not guardsmen, or worse. The entrance was unceremonious. She let herself into his office and immediately dug into her breasts for the evidence. Five messages, one shredded, and his original list came out and were left on his desk where they landed. A piece fell on the floor; she leaned over and set it on top of the pile. They were crumpled, some marked by dried blood. They should all still legible, not that she found much use in trying to decode them. She looked pretty beat up. The cloth on her shoulder was still there, and whatever bruises had formed displayed themselves plainly. The make-up had held up well, some of the black stuff running from her eyes after the assault in the alleyway behind the Scarlet Sanctum, and she had smeared the lip grease across her cheek trying to wipe away blood. The color itself didn’t match her Myrian visage anyway. Valorae waited for her next order or sentence, whichever came first. Regardless of her future, the Myrian inside her had come to realization that she was no longer in her jungle, that these alien people had few allegiances, and that it would be a while before she could return home. She would return home.

[Archelon]

Epilogue: When she was brought before Callik again, the man just looked at her with a slight smile as the two guards closed in. "Our watchers said you didn't get them all, also that you had to improvise." Whatever shock or concern she might have felt was stayed by a raised hand as the man continued. "You're an interesting sort, you've earned your freedom. That much I'll say. Now the real question is what do you want to do. When we found you you were hard pressed, an escaped slave running from the daggerhands that would have made you a worse plaything then when you were ever in that shyke hole of a place you escaped from. You know... we could use someone like you." Casually, Callik reached into a desk and pulled out a jangling sack of coins and tossed it in her direction "Think it over, I might keep you around as a guard until the higher ups think you're worthy enough of being introduced to them. Until then I'll give you to the season's end free lodgings and a room in case we need... any help... in certain things later. Get yourself cleaned up and healed and you'll make a place here if you work hard." Waving a hand in what was a clear dismissal, the ethaefel left the man's office and was ushered to a side room to count her gold . There was a table with a meal set on it for her to eat, though whether she touched it was up to her. All she did know was that she recieved two hundred and fifty gold mizas for her efforts. Not bad for a first job, and probably a little more then what the job was worth. 'Fifty gold mizas a head? Even after some failure.' Callik was probably just in a good mood or something. Making her way to the door, she was shown a place to sleep , to rest and recover. Unsure of what the next day would bring, save that it would be hers to decide what to do.

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Valorae : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Short sword 3 stealth 5 Brawling 3 You were right, gray area intimidation 3 intelligence 1 Investigation 2 Interrogation 3 Running 3 Acrobatics 3 Subterfuge 3 Observation 4 Lores: Doing a job for the night eyes. Earning one's freedom. Ledger: + 250 gold mizas. Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting thread Any questions,comments,or concerns please feel free to send me a nice pm.