The Samaritan (Edreina)

[Nathaniel Ankah]

23rd Day of Summer, 514AV
The Docks
13th Bell

Look down, look down, just do the fucking job...

Nate repeated his bitter mantra inside his head as he hoisted another hundred-pound bag of meal onto his shoulders, joining the short human ant line that was unloading the ship from Zeltiva. The Jaunty Pile - Nate reminded himself to ask about that one - stank of meal and corn and rat shit and vomit and all the wonderful scents of a ship long at sea. The crew were hardly any better, with the added aroma of unwashed sweat and scurvy-ridden teeth.

The big human barely noticed it. His face was set in a stoic mask, bearing the load on broad shoulders, torso bare and scorning Syna's merciless rays. It was getting too much to even wear a shawl or scarf now. Nate's only compromises to decency were his boots, his breeches and the neckerchief fastened around his head after being soaked in water.

And if it goes on more like this, the sodding breeches are going, too.

"C'mon, you lazy fucking whores! What are you, working men or fucking children?!"

Strabo roared and cussed at them from the shade of his office, but the sweltering dozen on the pier worked at their own, attainable pace. They knew from experience that rushing hard for a few chimes and them being too exhausted to unload more than half the boat wasn't a smart idea. No, much better to go at a pace, spare their muscles.

Do the job well in two bells rather than fuck it up in one.

But the old bastard needed to be placated, so they put their backs into it a little more, sacks and crates moving down the plank faster, smoother... until he turned away... and with a communal sigh and a round of truly inventive Sunberth curses, they slid back into their rut.

Nate winced. Damn. That term was far too appropriate.

Nigh a season had passed, and his melancholy had not. Grief had been alien to the man throughout much of his life: just another weakness he needed to quash so it could not be used against him, like compassion and hope and loyalty. But he'd committed a great treachery against himself. He had all those things and more, bound up in the woman who was now nothing but ash, vanished into the quiet bay east of the Docks, no sign left in the world of her physical form but what particles of scorched matter a minnow couldn't find.

He was alone again. The thought seized him like a midnight mugger and it pierced his resolve, made the bag wobble-

"Fuck me, Nate-!"

-and Jekzun was there, at his back, one black hand jerking up to brace against the bag, another at Nate's back. Teeth flashed like a lighthouse against the dark of his face and he shook his head, deep Eyktol accent rumbling and stilted as it spat out Common.

"Hold good on that, boy. Jek behind you."

"Yeah... yeah..."

It was the closest he'd get to camaraderie that day, as well he knew. Friends? What did Nate have call for friends? The only one he needed was... gone. Now his center and his purpose had been ripped out and all he had was the grey routine of the harbor, the Docks, his job, this ceaseless, paying toil...

"Oi, you fuckin' deaf or wot'?!"

Fuck it, he'd done it again.

He blinked and Strabo's various chins were nearly purple with indignation. Some little street rat was hurrying behind him on skinny legs, wide blue umbrella bouncing over them both and finally coming to a halt above Strabo. The plump little merchant glared up at Nate, apparently heedless to the fact he was holding up the fucking line, and nearly a dozen other men equally burdened... in the hot rays of Syna.

"What is your problem today, Nate?!"

"Just... the heat, sir. Nothing more."

"Well, get over it, damn you!" He cast a quick look at the chuckling sailors watching them through pipe smoke. "You're making my firm look foolish."

Nate chose to bite back "You can do that all by yourself, you dandied up pile of sheep shit", and instead nodded until the bastard waddled back to his shade his his icy water. He concentrated instead on planting one foot in front of the other, coarse material of the sack chafing his shoulders with every grind and shift of weight.

Little more... little more...

Until he was close enough to heave it up over his head, bracing both hands under it and feeling his biceps and shoulders strain, scream, snap inside his tanned flesh and then-

-the sack thumped onto the rest of the pile, the wagon half-full. Not waiting to check or hold up anyone else, Nate was already walking back to the ship, rolling his shoulders and shaking his arms. Forcing his world to shrink to the simple task of making the Full Boat and Empty Boat.

Look down, look down...

++++++++++

Five hours later and Nate was watching whirling tendrils of blue smoke dance across the Dock, then melt into Syna's glare. Her final descent was still some time away but the Pile was unloaded and that meant the crew could relax for a little while. They were spread out around the pier - some dozing, or chugging water like parched fish, or throwing dice - but Nate had taken his favorite spot.

Not far from the water, propped up by a couple of old sacks, with a worn, cracked pipe at his lips, and some cheap, strong baccy burning his throat with every hffffffff-

"KKfffffffffffgods and fuckin' daemons..." he sputtered as a red-hot chunk escaped the stem and hurtled down his throat "... shyke's like a visit from fuckin' Krysus..."

Once his fit had lapsed, he went back to... well, just watching, really. Tall shadows were about the water, gliding on the glistening surface, rising as they hit a swell or plunging down as a wave rolled under them. Galleys and brigs and schooners and fishing boats and all of them capped with crowns of white against the blue sky.

Nate preferred coming here. It calmed him. He knew that he should be with the boys, throwing himself into... something social, but he preferred it by himself. He used to come here with Kay-

-and like that, his calm vanished. Grief like a lead weight crushed his shoulders down and his eyes glazed over, staring down now at the water lapping just below his feet. The noises of the Dock vanished and he wasn't there, not at that time...

It was twelve years ago and he'd been a big, rawboned kid with hard eyes and callused knuckles, but he didn't dare refuse when Kay wanted to go to the festival. It had ended up at the Docks, with food given out and booze flowing and music pounding from the band echoing off the walls and the cobbles.

She'd danced. Gods, she'd had such life, such love just for living. She could have made a Yahalite out of a miser; a saint from a Rhysol-junkie. She'd whirled in her red dress and everyone whirled with her, as if they didn't want to be left out.

The pipe sputtered to nothing without his breath to stoke it. By the time he'd realized, there was more to be noticed that the dead bowl of burned tobacco. Loud creaking made him blink, a vast shadow fell over him and a stench that made his stomach do flips and say "no mas".

Sahova. The ships always smelled like that.

Graveyards with fucking sails.

"Wonderful," he said with a grumble, getting his his feet and stretching tired, naked limbs without a care to who was watching, unseen to his eyes since Syna was blinding him from above the deck, "More sodding work..."

Nate let his disgust take the place of his grief and tramped over to the work gang, already assembling, with Strabo in the lead, quibbling and clucking over them like a mother hen, wanting his brood presentable for the captain of...

Shit. They didn't even know the name.

Like it matters, Nate thought, taking his place next to Jekzun and rotating his wrists, limbering them up. Just another boat of robe-covered corpses and fucking slaves and...

And someone else, apparently.

A dozen very, very male Sunberthians sucked in their guts all at once. Aside from Strabo. That was just a lost cause and besides, he had money.

[Edreina]

At the very least, you'll be able to kick his arse... The Svefra thought with a shrug, convincing herself for the umpteenth time that trying to look for Razkar was a worthwhile venture. As far as she knew, he had dumped her off on Sahova after finding out that she and Matthew had betrayed him; it was only a happy accident that she had been taken as a petching slave. But he did not know the circumstances! Gritting her teeth, Edreina punched the side of the ship and stood, hoisting her pack onto her back. She could feel that they were nearly docked in the way the ship moved and the muffled shouts that rang through its walls.

The slender woman's stomach was a knot of nervousness she mistook for anger that rolled unsurely as she left the darkness of the shared cabin and was assaulted by the stench of Sunberth. She had not thought it possible for her to hate the smell of a place any more than Sahova, and it still rung true. Sunberth was a bloody close second, but at least this place smelled alive.

The woman entering Sunberth's murky harbor was not the same woman that had left a season earlier. Her features were harder, stripped of any of the fat her relatively cushioned life had preserved. But the hardness was more than more pronounced cheek bones, shadowed ribs, narrow shoulders, and bony wrists. There was an ice in Edreina's eyes where before there had only been dancing blue oceans that came alive with the mildest prodding. Silvery curiosity was now held in careful check and her desire to trust others quickly and always see the best in them was hidden beneath layers of protective ice. Once, her breasts had been the bane of her existence and she had wrapped them tightly with linen. Now, malnourishment had allowed them to recede into small, manageable peaks; there were times when Edreina missed having to bind her chest if only because she missed the woman she had once been; she no longer felt entirely whole. Her hair had become knotted in some areas during her "stay" in Sahova and dead near the ends, leading to a rough haircut on the ship-ride to Sunberth. Seamless shackles of violet stone were still circled about the young woman's wrists and neck, like some sort of jewelry despite the fact her simple linen cloths suggested she would be unable to afford jewelry of such craftsmanship. Few would suspect that those were the marks of slavery and a time under the thumb of a sadistic sorceress, and Edreina was grateful for that and that her pants covered the brand on her leg; the less these people knew about her and mistook for weakness, the better off she would be.

A few meals, she hoped, would bring some roundness back to her cheeks and being able to swim every day, once again, would return her musculature to that of a swimmer and not one who exercised out of utter boredom during imprisonment.

On the dock, one of the men not bothering to suck in his gut arched a brow at the sight of the redhead bounding onto the deck and moving to the edge of the ship, preparing to disembark. "Well shyke on my head and call me Mary... They brought back a live one."

"Now how do you know that? She could be one of them body-snatchers," one of his fellows asked, rubbing the side of his nose with a knuckle.

"Nutters don't move like that... Too worried about injuring themselfs, they is." And the other men listening took his word as law and nodded slightly to themselves, as if they had thought the same all along.

When the ship pulled into place and a few of the men stepped over to tie off the ship, Edreina was immediately on the dock, blue eyes steady as she surveyed her surroundings. The sooner she got this over with, the better off she would be one way or another.

"Ain't got nothing for yer men to help unload today, Strabo. Came straight from Sahova," the captain offered, cutting Strabo off mid-waddle. "We may need help restocking the ship in a few days, though. I'll let ye know."

The fat man huffed and turned abruptly to Edreina, making her falter a half-step backwards. Freckled nostrils flared briefly before the entire nose crinkled as the breeze carried over the scent of perfume and old sweat. "Is there anything we can help you with, miss? Somewhere you need to get?"

The Svefra eyed the many-chinned man briefly, hand resting on her hip as she mulled something over. Finally, she shook her head and smiled faintly. "No... Not you. Your interests are only in that which earns you coin and I'm afraid the ship I'm seeking would not have been noticed by you to begin with..." Without waiting for his reaction, Edreina turned to the line of bewildered men and took a step towards them.

Dock-workers were the life-blood of Sunberth's trade. Between what they saw and what they heard over a pint, she was sure someone would at least have an inkling and, if she was incredibly lucky, some sort of an answer. "I'm looking for someone," she said in a raised voice, letting her eyes wander the line, meeting each set of eyes individually.

"I've got what ye need, babe," one of the youngest men said, rolling his hips suggestively and laughing loud enough that it was obvious he expected others to join in.

He must be new... Edreina reasoned with an arched brow as the rest of the men either ignored him entirely or took it upon themselves to shoot the man an venomous glare. As if the interruption had never occurred, the redhead continued smoothly. "He was a Myrian. About 6 feet tall and armed down to the teeth-" Something in Edreina constricted painfully as some part of her noted the accidental pun and Razkar's smiling mouth was brought to mind. "He also wore a cloak of human scalps and would have come on a small Svefra vessel. Do any of you remember seeing this man arrive about a season ago? He would have been returning from a voyage to Sahova."

Silently, Edreina began to plunge herself into the stream of Djed that flowed through her, preparing to use Hypnotism on whoever seemed most keen on answering in order to speed up the process. If all else failed, she did have some of the coin these land-striders seemed so preoccupied with.

[Nathaniel Ankah]

Ah, Jimmy. The one boy on the crew utterly convinced that he was the gods' gift to anything with a pretty face and a slit between their legs. Nate joined the others in a chorus of disapproving glances, rolling eyes and general "oh, shut up, lad" reactions that soon chided the younger worker into silence.

Bloody kid. Thinks because he's managed to go this long without a broken nose and perfumes his hair, womenfolk'll just fall into his breeches.

Not this one, by the look of it. Nate's lips twisted briefly into a smile he hid with a dip of his head, just at the sight of that arched eyebrow. Maybe she'd met Kay in a past life? The work of one tiny muscle and Jimmy shuffled back into his place, rotating breeches quickly forgotten. She was young, if he had to judge by first glances, but... not by anything else.

Hard eyes. Icy, almost, but not out of cruelty. Nate had only heard rumors of how the Deaders on Sahova treated their living slaves, and that term was putting it nicely. Most of them were worked to death or used as cheap experiment fodder; in either case, the more pristine ones always ended up with some slimy Deader's soul hijacking their body.

You'd have to ice up your blood to survive there. Gods alone knew what she'd seen and endured...

He listened as she reeled off her description of the one she was seeking. A Myrian? Gods, this was one for the unusual. Myrians were about as thin on the ground as returners from Sahova, and as much as Nate knitted his brows and dredged his memory, he found no trace of such a man, even with that garb that would hold fast to any mind.

And why do you care, anyway?

The question detached the big man from the discussion for a quiet tick. It was a valid one. Nate's habit in this situation was to keep his head down and let the others - the loudmouths, attention-seekers, brown-nosers, live-wires - do their talking, if they wanted to be so helpful... or seek any reward that might come their way. Nate preferred to stay out of it.

So why tax yourself now, even if only within your own mind? Why care if this resurrectionist finds her savage friend? What does it profit you?

As the others in the gang scratched their beards or exchanged muted words, Nate rubbed his neckerchief over his head and stared a hole through the cobblestone at his feet. Out the corner of his eye he saw the redhead's gaze move to the other end of the line... and he hazarded a straight look at her.

Skinny. Not starved, but obviously kept by those who didn't concern themselves with food. Holds herself straight but... it's an effort of will. She knows a viper's pit when she sees it.

Nate had seen all kinds over twenty years in Sunberth. He'd seen whores sell every private part of themselves and still go home to coo over their children. He'd seen men butcher their fellows with broad smiles and then beg forgiveness to uncaring gods afterwards. He'd seen evil done in the name of good and worse done in the name of indifference, and every facet of the human spirit, every level of desperation, he'd looked it in the eye. Sometimes it had been in the mirror.

She's a survivor. She's not a weakling, but... she has suffered much. And since when did you need a reward to do a good deed?

Nate's molars ground together. That was Kay's voice, not his own, and he wished he could just scorn her words as impractical, stupid, suicidal weakness. But without that "weakness"? He'd still be... well, no he wouldn't be "still" anything. He'd have been killed or sold or slaved out a long while ago.

You always claimed to love her. To believe in her. Words are not enough, boy. You must-

"Myrian, s'say? Fink I might know the fella..."

Nates surprised glance falls on... ah. Yes. It would be Justin. Mild as milk, that face, but cunning lurked behind those eyes, and well they knew it. Justin could lie as well as breath and he didn't have a problem with swindling lifelong Berthians or fresh-off-the-boat females. But he had the female's attention and he used it well: scratching the back of his head, eyes wide and innocent, shrugging lightly...

Gods. Really laying it on thick.

"Yeah, last season, right? Saw him go... bugger, where was it... one tick... yeah... yeah, now I know! Fella came off the boat, little fishing sloop from Sahova-"

As he spun his web, Nate looked around his fellows. Their reactions ran the gamut from amusement to indifference. She was just another slit off the boat: by the looks of her, she'd be violated or dead in a few days. Why not let Justin have first pull on her? Nate wanted to hate them, but... it was Sunberth.

Compassion wasn't just scorned here; it was dangerous.

"-so I said, Justin, that's right queer, that is, so I asked the girl where he was heading and she said-"

"Do not listen."

All eyes turned to Nate as something not Common and not quite like a waterfall with words dripped from his lips. Tall, broad, scorched by Syna, he didn't look one to falter under something as mere as attention... but he still had to clear his throat before he spoke again.

In Fratava. It was a gamble, he knew, but the hair, the eyes... she practically screamed "Sea Folk".

"I think he not speak true." He said in his butchered, woeful dialect, the cobbled-together product of six years talking, walking, working, drinking and occasionally fighting with the multitude of Svefra far from the Suvan Sea. "You man... ah... warrior? Ah..."

Damn. He didn't know the words for "Blood Pits", so he shrugged and shifted to Common instead. As he did he saw Justin's pleasant face darken, sour, like the poison inside had bubbled to the surface and just for a flash, you could see what a mask it really was.

"If you're man was a fighter, he'd go to the Blood Pits, I'd wager."

"Calling me a liar, Nate?"

"Not that you'd know, Jus," Nate said smoothly, knowing damn well Justin knew about as much Fratava as he did the Ancient Sodding Tongue. "But I'd sooner believe Jek joined the Knights than you saw a Myrian and kept it quiet for a whole petching season, then just happened to remember it now."

Jek's bass rumble rolled across the line of men and everyone seized a chance to enjoy Justin's discomfort. Strabo stiffened nervously as the younger man's hand went to the carrying hook at his side... and Nate cocked his head.

"Wouldn't do that, boy."

"Wouldn't you?"

"I wouldn't..." A flash of teeth. Just enough of the past to let Justin know he hadn't forgotten hard-won lessons. "But once the lady's gone, yer more n' welcome..."

That gave him pause, and Nate his chance to swung his gaze back to the female. His eyes softened just a fraction, enough to be polite, if not warm. He wasn't her bloody brother, after all. But a good deed was his goal, so...

"Blood Pits. Top half a' town. S'where all the fighters go for coin and, well, blood. Best startin' there, love."

[Edreina]

"Myrian, s'say? Fink I might know the fella..."

Edreina's head snapped to the voice and, with narrowed eyes, she approached the source. The way he spoke of Razkar... She did not like it. If this man knew Razkar like he claimed to, there would be no "might" about it. Last time they'd arrived, her ex-lover had eaten another man's heart in broad daylight for all to see. A con-artist, then... Looking for an easy venture in hopes of earning a coin or two for his information. The Svefra was annoyed, but this was inevitable, she supposed. People in this town only cared for themselves. she had been foolish to expect anyone's help. The man prattled on, but she had already turned back to the line, planning on examining everyone one last time, though she knew it was useless.

"Do not listen."

With brows crumpled curiously, Edreina turned only her head to seek out the source of the voice. It was a shock to hear her own tongue spoken with any semblance of fluency; she was accustomed to hearing only words and quick phrases shouted across the planks of a dock yard. In Zeltiva, she had ventured out among the workers in hopes of meeting someone with whom she could converse, if only for a moment. That had been back when she longed to return to her home, though. The barest hint of a smile trailed across Edreina's lips as she took a step towards this new man.

"I think he not speak true. You man... ah... warrior? Ah..."

The Svefra frowned slightly as she moved to stand directly in front of this new man. In earlier seasons, Edreina had done her best to avoid looking too closely at people and had ignored any inclination to read too deeply into the way in which the demeanor of others could be read on the planes of their face. Now, she had discovered that it was something that came naturally to her after seasons of doing so unconsciously to some degree in order to better formulate her Hypnotism.

The Svefra stared blatantly at the man as he continued to speak, even as he bantered with the liar from before. His stance was relaxed, but not because he was forcing it to appear so; he spoke the truth out of a sense of obligation, not because he was looking to gain something. There was a little tightness about his eyes, Edreina noticed, a sign that he was quite lost in his own thoughts even as he assisted her. Perhaps there was some ulterior motive, but it was not one that would lead to monetary gain. His eyes were steadily on hers, not her body or her lips, so he did not seek to gain her favor and eventually her womanhood. What was driving this man, then? By the scars on his body, she could tell he was not one born into an easy life, though whether or not he had lived in Sunberth his whole life was in question. The fact that he was willing to help her suggested not, for a Sunberthian would never help another unless it somehow bettered their own chances of survival, in her experience. Though she wished it were not so, Edreina found her curiosity peaked by this man and a smile trailing over her lips again, if only for an instant.

"Blood Pits. Top half a' town. S'where all the fighters go for coin and, well, blood. Best startin' there, love."

Settling back onto her heels and shaking her head slightly, Edreina smiled openly at the man, and his comrades. "No no. If Razkar were here, half of you would have stepped forward, offering to tell me something about him. He's not one that goes unnoticed... especially if he's at the Blood Pits."

Deep down, something in the redhead was relieved that no one had been able to tell her where to find Razkar, though she refused to admit why. That same why kept her from endeavoring to look anywhere else, If the dock workers don't know, no one would, she reasoned, pursing her lips briefly. She would ask again in Zeltiva and, if he was not there, she would give up for he had likely decided to return to his jungle.

With that settled, Edreina turned her attention to other matters. Zeltiva was her next destination. Looking at the strangely kind man once again, Edreina smirked, realizing that there was a way she could accomplish her goals and sate her curiosity about the stranger. "What is your name?"

Nodding, she turned to the heavy man, fighting the urge to hold her breath. "I would like to hire this man to help me with the rest of my business in Sunberth. I am willing to pay you two gold for his services." Edreina's blue eyes sparkled in the light and, when the man met her eyes, thinking it over to himself, obviously, Edreina decided to save herself a fair bit of time and, more than likely, coin. In a tick, Edreina took the Djed she had been gathering and holding beneath the surface and set it to a purpose.

"We're not that busy, anyway..."

The thought would echo through Strabo's mind in his own voice, but only faintly. This aspect of Hypnotism was still new to Edreina, and she was struggling to master it. But, in this case, the budding Hypnotist felt that she had an adequate understanding of the simple man before her and what would be going through his mind at her offer. Nonetheless, she held her breath while the man continued to think it over.

His gestures became more expressive and, in her opinion, unnecessary, telling Edreina that she had won and he was going to give in, he just had to make a show of it. "I don't see why not. He's been... off... all day, anyway." With a shrug, he held out a meaty palm and Edreina quickly dispensed two gold coins.

Without another word or another look at the line of men, Edreina motioned for the dock worker to follow her. Once they were out of earshot, she turned and asked, with a smile, "How much do you usually earn a day?" It did not cross her mind that such a question would be impolite, only necessary. After he answered, she would reach into her pack and hand him two more coins than the amount he said.

"Warrior," she said abruptly in her mother tongue, smiling and waiting for that look of confusion to flash over his face. "The word you said earlier was killer, not warrior. I just taught you the word for warrior. But... I understand why you would mistake them, living where you do."

[Nathaniel Ankah]

"Nate. S'what everyone calls me, s'that's what you can call me."

He didn't really mean for the edge in his voice; the whiff of confrontation, but at the same time, he couldn't help it. Slave or escapee or mage, this woman was tainted in Nathaniel's eyes by her place of origin. She was hardly what he imagined a warlock of Sahova to look like, but whatever she was, he'd sooner not have her know his true name.

Karma, it seems, has a funny habit of balancing even our unintentional slights.

"I would like to hire this man to help me with the rest of my business in Sunberth. I am willing to pay you two gold for his services."

Nate was so stunned that it was almost over and done with by the time he'd reacted. His gaze jerked up as if his head were attached to a wire, seeing her barter with miserly old Strabo.

"Oi, now wait a minute-"

"I don't see why not. He's been... off... all day, anyway."

Nate's jaw dropped with a click and a chorus of guffaws rippled along the line of rough males. Very rare to see the stoic, taciturn Ankah speechless: best enjoy it while it lasts, eh? Finally he stepped forward, getting Buyer and Seller's attention by sheer dint of his looming body.

"Hey, I get some petching say in this?"

"Y'do now, lad." Strabo said with a brusque shrug, pocketing two coins he wasn't quite sure how he obtained. But... yes... he'd been off all day. Hadn't he? Bugger it, he was two gold rims richer. "Miss? He's all yours..."

The old fart dragged out the "all" so it went from functional to salacious and the guffaws grew into outright laughter. Nate glared hard enough to melt Cold Steel but it bounced off them. Even Jek didn't bother hiding his amusement, and Nate turned even redder than the muggy day would have allowed.

He needed an outlet for his humiliation, and his new "owner" seemed a good enough target. He drew up to his full height, too insulted and infuriated to care about the fact he was, yes, trying to physically intimidate someone half his size.

"Who in the blue hells do you think you are, woman?"

"How much do you usually earn a day?"

There was a beat of hesitation before he answered again. Oh, so it was mollification now, after she'd purchased him like a fetching purse to match her blouse? Well, fuck her.

"How much? You mean here? None of yer business, and considering I probably won't be lugging sacks of flour for you, not bloody relevant." He crossed thick arms like slabs of steak across his chest and looked down at her clinically. "But for you? We'll call it... five gold rims, and if you can-"

CHINK!

"... well, evidently you can..."

There was a rustle throughout the work gang, and again Nate felt that swell of inconvenient fucking compassion. Eyes once amused now glinted with naked avarice as the woman paid him with extra on top of what he asked. Nate pursed his lips and shot her a disapproving glance.

Bad move, love. Show that much coin on the Docks, you're throwing blood in the water.

"Alright, so you've... engaged my services, or whatever the petch it is you call it," he grunted as he stuffed the coins into his purse, leading her away from the longshoremen without any more preamble. A few yards away he flicked a glance over his shoulder. "Let's just get moving, eh?"

Justin was still staring. He was practically licking his lips. A couple of the others were doing the same.

Shyke. That might be a problem later.

"Warrior."

They turned a corner and left the piers and creaking ships behind them, but the area was still known as "the Docks". Warehouses and storage buildings towered over narrow streets; Sunberth street life flowed around them as they walked. Nate plowed on slightly ahead of her, parting the detritus like an icebreaker, one hand on the handle of his kukri, just in case anyone tried it with... damn, he should really ask what her-

"... what was that?"

"The word you said earlier was killer, not warrior. I just taught you the word for warrior. But... I understand why you would mistake them, living where you do."

Despite the confusion, the noise, the unspoken responsibilities he knew he'd taken aboard, Nate paused to shoot a look of injured disdain at that carefully composed, lovely face.

"I understand why you'd think there's a difference, coming from where you come from, little girl..."

Oh, yes. Wonderful way to endear yourself to your new employer.

For a day. And I got paid already, remember?

Satisfied he'd put the woman in her place (because it's always that simple, isn't it?), Nate heeded the call of his growling belly and sought out a familiar face in the street. Or a cart, to be more accurate.

"Right, first thing's first," he said, cutting off any response the woman might have brewing and running a hand across his mouth, "We get some real food in you before we... do whatever the hell you want done. Oi, Rik?!"

Behind a pushcart billowing steam from rusted metal pots and a rough little grill nailed onto one end, a permanently-sooty face grinned through the fragrant cloud. It worked the stub of a cheap cigar from one side of its mouth to the other before answering, spitting somewhere that was... most probably not anywhere near the food he was selling.

"Nate! Gods give ye fortune, lad."

"They better, buying your bloody food, Rik."

"Oh, you wound me," Rik said, but with a grin. Obviously this was a pantomime performed a dozen times in the past, and whatever guilt Rik felt about the quality of his food, well... this is Sunberth. Fuck were the punters going to lodge a complaint with? "Me, just a poor street merchant, plying my wares through rain and snow and sleet-"

"Yeah, and was that before or after you brained Old Alafri and stole his fucking cart?" Nate said with a roll of his eyes, slapping a silver coin onto the cart. "Two bowls, a roll with each, and today's stuff, Rik, not that slop you drag from the bottom of the fucking pot from a week ago."

"How well you know me, lad."

"Uh huh..."

Rik went about his business, ladeling some sort of thick, brown, perversely-inviting slop into a pair of cheap bowls. The rolls could have been used to beat donkeys to death, but Nate knew that Rik wouldn't screw him over... too much. He leaned against the side of the cart, eyebrow cocked insolently as he looked the woman up and down before jutting his chin towards her.

"So... what do I call you, anyway? And what am I being rented for? Still lookin' to find your man or is there something else you-Rik, there's a fuckin' bug in this one?!"

"Nah, that's asparagus, that is-"

"Rik, I swear, if you... fuck me, it is asparagus. How do you know what asparagus is?"

"I am a food vendor, ser! I know my vegetables!"

"... no, really, how?"

"Two-Cock Harry had a bunch going cheap. Thought I'd throw it in the pot."

"Ah..."

[Edreina]

"I understand why you'd think there's a difference, coming from where you come from, little girl..."

The Svefra frowned slightly, then, ducking her head. Being called little girl did not bother her - a life being shorter than those around her and growing beneath many older siblings had moved that from her being - but other things about the man's seemingly simple statement bothered her deeply. "It is sad to me," she mused quietly, walking without a purpose. Their business could wait. It would be better for her to get to know this man before trusting him to assist her. "That in all of your years you've not learned the difference." Though she did not know his exact age, Edreina knew herself to be substantially younger, in world experience at the very least. If age was marked in scars and other lines upon the body, he would still be older, even after her time in Sahova. But, even in her comparably short time, she had learned the difference between a warrior and a killer as she had a prostitute and a harlot.

Before any more could be said, Nate apparently had something else in mind. The Svefra's stomach grumbled insistently as the wind carried over the scent of something cooking... or burning. In any case, Edreina always seemed to be hungry these days. Her second day after leaving Sahova, she had eaten until her unaccustomed stomach threatened to expel the food instead of being stretched so strangely.

"Right, first thing's first... We get some real food in you before we... do whatever the hell you want done.

Am I really that thin? Edreina thought, mortified to the point of rooting herself in place while Nate took to gathering the food. She had never been one to care about her appearances, but that was back when she had been appealing enough to get away with not caring. Now, she agonized over the shadows around her eyes and under her cheeks and the way her hair always seemed on the brink of crumbling away. And now she had proof that it was not just in her head.

The stew Nate brought over smelled like the food she used to eat on the Kabrin when traveling to Zeltiva the first time when hunters had returned with many small animals and thrown them all into a pot with various dried vegetables. It was not unappealing, but it was strange, especially considering what she had been fed lately. It didn't compare to fresh fish, but it was leagues beyond her Sahovan fare; at least this slop was warm.

Edreina had ate most of the soup before she realized it was gone and was using the bread to clean the bow only an instant later. Realizing she had been too preoccupied with her food, Edreina wiped her mouth on the back of her forearm and smiled guiltily but offered no explanation. Thinking back, she remembered his questions and that she had not yet answered them. "My name is Edreina, or just Reina if you're feeling lazy. And..." Freckled features contorted in a grimace briefly before she regained control of herself and reined in her emotions. "You're being hired, not rented. You're a human, not a piece of property." A strange tone entered Edreina's voice, but was quickly gone as she quashed her roiling emotions and buried herself in ice, once again. "I need you to help me find a ship to take me to Zeltiva as soon as possibleand somewhere to stay in the meantime. Think you can manage it?"

[Nathaniel Ankah]

Not even when he was in the clutches of teenage hunger had Nate finished a bowl that fast. He couldn't help but watch over the rim of his own food as the slight woman wolfed down Rik's questionable cuisine like it was ambrosia, not wasting a drop as she methodically mopped the bowl from top to bottom.

"Can't imagine the deaders care much for good food," he said, hazarding a smile that quirked his lips for a moment, then was gone, "Rik here isn't a... gourmet-" he said the word with care, pride even, remembering how Matthew had taught him the proper pronunciation "-but after a full day lugging around sacks and crates, it's like a gift from the gods."

"Nice t'hear you speak so highly, Nate..."

Nathaniel grunted and tossed the empty bowl into the barrel next to the cart, to join the several dozen others. The cloud of flies over it parted with an irritated but before swarming down over the latest morsel, all but ignoring Rik's cursing, flapping form trying to bat them away.

"After a shift with Strabo, Rik, a fried mule's arse would look inviting."

"Everyone's a critic."

"Only those who've eaten here. See ya 'round."

"Not if I see you first!"

The stocky vendor had to shout the last part, for the two of them were already walking away. Syna was falling in the sky, ready to plunge into the ocean and allow her lover to take her place. Nate knew that it wouldn't really make that much difference in a town as ribald and teeming as Sunberth, but the Docks would quiet, at least. No captain wants to bring their ships to port in pitch darkness.

"My name is Edreina, or just Reina if you're feeling lazy. And... you're being hired, not rented. You're a human, not a piece of property."

Again, Nate was surprised, and cast a wary eye over the female at his side. She spoke the last words as if she was affirming them to the world; setting them in the air like it was a stone tablet. Nate recognized that... need. To make some statement or hold some ground that couldn't be taken from you. His mouth turned up in a wry smile, boulder-like head bobbing a few times.

"Well said... but I already knew that..." He would have left it there, but something about this... Reina, made him speak one sentence more, voice a shade lower. "I haven't been property for a long time."

It wasn't much, but between two people of like histories, perhaps it counted for a lot. Few things are worse than being utterly alone, or feeling that way. As if no-one could relate or understand your trials and what they made of you. It cost Nate nothing to show this girl - his employer, no less - that in some small manner, they were not so different.

"I need you to help me find a ship to take me to Zeltiva as soon as possible and somewhere to stay in the meantime. Think you can manage it?"

Nate hummed and scratched under his chin, week's worth of stubble skritching faintly as he did. His eyes unfocused for a moment, staring into nothing as he mused over his options, faces recalled and people he could call upon.

"Shouldn't be too hard. We can deal with the ship tomorrow, once the tide comes in. There's always shiping coming and going, and Zeltiva's the nearest port..." His voice trailed off a little as he realized that wasn't quite so. "... well... aside from Sahova."

Silence. Brief but uncomfortable, or was that just his imagination? The woman hadn't given off any particular hate or love for that isle of corpses and djed-junkies, aside from that one statement that chilled her ice for a tick. But the sight of her, so thin and frail, held together by will and purpose... Nate couldn't imagine the Deaders had nothing do do with that.

"As for a place to stay... I can sort that for you, too. Place a few streets away. Sailors use it a lot, owned by a couple of brothers, Larry and Barry. Nah, they're not twins, a'fore you ask. Mum just didn't have much imagination, I suppose..."

True to his word, the place in question wasn't far. A tall house of red brick now grey from constant smoke, there were a handful of Svefra sailors lounging outside, taking in the cooling air after a day trounced by humidity. Their attention peaked like dogs around a fresh scent when one of their "sisters" appeared... but they were careful to keep it polite when they saw the veritable giant escorting her.

"Couple of gold will see you for a few days, I'd say, more than you'd need. Larry, how ya been?"

A rail-thin young man with a dandyish goatee that didn't suit him appeared in the door, packing a pipe with him thumb. He gave Nate a lazy nod and mopped his brow with the neckerchief in the other hand.

"Sweating like a whore at temple, mate. Who's yer friend?"

"Lady looking for a place to stay. I'm helping her out, watching her back-" those three words were leveled along with his gaze at the sailors, who did their best to throw it right back at him but eventually turned away "-and I thought this would be the best place for her."

He paused for a moment, remembering her faux pas from earlier, and reached into his purse to drop a couple of gold coins into Larry's already-waiting palm.

"Should do her for a couple of nights, yeah?"

"No money of her own?"

"Nah, fresh off the boat," Nate said, lying as smoothly as a Sunberth lad with two decades of practice could, "Doing this as a favor to an old mate, no longer around, y'know?"

"That I do, that I do..." Larry straightened up as best he could and looked Edreina up and down like he was sizing up a new cupboard. "Well, there's a room in the back just freed up. Poor sod rentin' it got deep into the dice with some bad boys. Nasty business... no parties, no thievin', and it's just you, alright, girly? I find a whole fuckin' family in there with ya, you pay for 'em or so sod off."

Nate nodded and waved away his questions after giving her some time to answer, turning his back on Larry and dropping his voice when he spoke to her again.

"You can pay me back tomorrow. Believe me, best the streets think you're broke in this town. Well... I'm off home, Reina. See you at Syna's rise."

With that he left her, tossing a curt nod her way and striding through the scurrying masses heading back to their homes before night fell in earnest. But as he walked, cobbles becoming more familiar under his feet as he got closer to Sunset, some thought rankled and rattled in his mind. He'd actually got in the front door before it finally loomed before him proper, Jorka giving a querying gruffle of noise as he master arrived...

"... fuck." He said to the bare room (pardoning Jorka), shaking his head in self-disgust. "Getting fucking sentimental in your old age..."

He slammed the door, leaving a very confused Akinva behind him, walking with purpose that none dared bar as the shadows lengthened and candles and barrel bonfires in dark alleys replaced cheerful Syna.

"Pay me back tomorrow," he spat at himself, grimacing as if the words tasted like dogshit, "Since when were you so fucking trusting?"

He tramped on through the thinning crowds, determined to get what was his before he called it a night. Anything could happen to a young girl in Sunberth, and while Nate would feel a twinge if he found her corpse the next day, he'd feel worse if her purse was gone with her life. The big man groaned and wondered how apoplectic Kay would be to hear such an opinion from his lips, how-

"Yeah, well, she's dead, and I'm here," he snarled to himself, forcing that grim, ruthless mask of Sunberth citizenry over his loss, "And I've got fucking bills to pay..."

[Edreina]

It was strange, to Edreina, how her kin eyed her now. When she had been built differently, those same blue eyes would have turned away in aversion or stared outright, wondering how lazy she must be, even for a Svefra, to have such curves. But, now that she had become thin through torture, she was appealing to them. To think of it in such a way left an acrid taste in her mouth.

"Couple of gold will see you for a few days, I'd say, more than you'd need. Larry, how ya been?"

The Svefra's brow cocked curiously as Nate worked out her living arrangements, taking coin from his own purse to hand to the man. He then proceeded to lie about her money, though he knew it to be otherwise. Like a cold wave, realization slapped Edreian across the face and she cursed her folly and how little she understood of the way these people lived. Paying Nate so easily probably made her an easy target in the eyes of those who saw and being able to pay now would do the same. The lengths a land-strider would go through to collect as many of those shiny gold pieces as possible astounded Edreina; surely they would weep if they saw the amount Annalisa had taken from her.

"Well, there's a room in the back just freed up. Poor sod rentin' it got deep into the dice with some bad boys. Nasty business... no parties, no thievin', and it's just you, alright, girly? I find a whole fuckin' family in there with ya, you pay for 'em or so sod off."

What is the point of that? Edreina wondered. If they charged per person, that meant she would be sharing a room with someone but she highly doubted she was being rented a communal room. So, what purpose did his warning serve? Unless perhaps he was worried about the rowdiness of a family which, given his location, she doubted.

"You can pay me back tomorrow. Believe me, best the streets think you're broke in this town. Well... I'm off home, Reina. See you at Syna's rise."

Tomorrow? Edreina did not like that. It meant she had to rely on him to return and... would she have to pay him all over again? He had accomplished jack-squat, today. Even she knew bad business when it stared so blatantly at her. Before she could add a remark, he was already walking off, leaving Edreina standing dumbfounded in the middle of a busy bar. Looking at the pole-of-a-man, Edreina raised a brow and he pointed to the room she had just rented.

Once inside, with the thick door barred and the string that pulled up the beam inside of the door, Edreina dropped her nearly empty pack to the floor and then sat beside it. She did not sit in a chair, nor did she lay on the bed; it was as if the purpose of furniture had been lost to her. Her hackles were still raised after Nate's departure, and she had to fight the urge to go after him. That could be what he wanted, to have her alone in a dark alley now that Syna had set and there would be no one to see this alternate side of him. Then again, she had followed him for the better part of a bell and nothing bad had happened.

Nothing happened the first time you met Annalisa... The thought stung, but in a way that Edreina had become accustomed to, now, and was nearly pleasurable. Scars were something that you could be broken by or you could learn from, in her opinion. She was learning, but she was also far more broken than she would ever allow herself to admit; even after being someone's slave and plaything, her pride was still able to blind her.

This room was bigger than Annalisa's quarter's had been and, instead of being comforting, it was strange to Edreina and made her nervous. Looking around at all of the open spaces locked between the walls, her heart started to accelerate and her palms grew moist. She had stayed in Annalisa's tiny room for a season... How long could someone keep her trapped here, if they wanted?

The Svefra was outside again before she knew what had happened; at least her fear-mad self had the wisdom to bring her pack. But, she could not stay in place. She needed to be moving, while she still could; there were eyes on her.

On the ship, she had worried that some Sahovan vessel would overtake them and retake her as a captive or a body donor. Now, she saw Annalisa in every dark corner and Amaryllis in every sudden movement. There is no way they let me go so easily... She thought for the hundreth time, shying away from a window-covering as it flapped in a breeze. No way...

"Ye lost, girlie?"

The voice was carried to her ear on a breeze. Though everything in her body screamed that she should run, she knew what happened to the prey when they made things exciting for a predator and managed to keep walking naturally. With that voice, Edreina knew that he could be nothing but; something about it sent shivers through her bones. Straining her ears, she heard no footsteps, meaning that the man was likely standing or leaning against one of the walls she had already passed. "No. I'm fine. Just on my way to see a friend." Better he think there be someone expecting her arrival soon and see it too risky.

There was a rumbling laughter, and then slow footsteps. Judging by the distance between steps and the rate at which they drew closer behind her, Edreina knew that the man was barely any taller than she was. Each step was heavy and thudding, but one fell harder upon the dirt than the other; the man was more fat than muscle with a limp on his left side. Tilting her head slightly to the side as she walked, Edreina could just barely make out the crackling breath of one who smoked a pipe copiously.

"Y'sure? I could help ya get there, if you'd like." A perfectly innocuous statement that, a season ago, the redhead would have taken at face value. Then again, a season ago, a very different woman had been in Sunberth and she would not have been out at early nightfall without a Myrian to guard her.

Could he help? Even if he meant well, Edreina did not know where she was going. But this man did not mean well. His steps were speeding up and Edreina's mind went into the mental mode that Razkar had carefully crafted. As she walked, her eyes scanned the area, taking stock of her surroundings and making a list.

The buildings ahead were closely packed, no more alley ways. One of the windows on her right side was covered with thin wooden planks instead of cloth or bottles packed with muck; one of the planks hung a little lower than the rest, indicating that it was not held in as tightly as the others. There was a small group of cobblestones off to the side, lining the area where someone was apparently trying to tend a garden. Various piles of filth and grime lay against the shoddy walls, but how exactly they could be of use Edreina struggled to discover.

Djed, filling the red haired vessel, sparked and came to life, whirling and dancing as it waited for Edreina to call upon it. Dozens of whispers filled her mind as she tapping into the deepest part of her being, giving her ideas and persuading her to use her Djed in so many fantastic ways.

All of it was preparing for one moment, the inevitable.

The slender woman stilled fractionally as a thick, heavy hand fell upon her pack.

Keeping one hand on the strap that had been over her shoulder, Edreina spun out and then, remembering something Ignotus had taught her seasons ago but she had never had the confidence to try, the young woman focused Djed into her fist as it slammed into the man's soft chin. The emotional surge Edreina physically thrusted into the man carried surprise, stark and clear, but no more. She left it to him to reason out the surprise's cause and attribute it to whatever felt most natural.

As he was doing this, his grip loosened enough for the Svefra to rip her pack from the man's hand and take off running towards the window.

"Ye shouldna done that!"

Grunting, she pulled the loose plank of wood from the window and hefted it, hate flaring in her eyes. No one was going to take advantage of her. Not tonight or any other night. Her fear was gone.

The man started approach, more warily than before, but still determined.

Djed flared in Edreina again. Now that she had used it, the whispered spoke to her more clearly, detailing a variety of plans at her disposal. Opting to try the technique she had used earlier, blue eyes narrowed and sought out the man's own mud-colored ocular receptors. As she did so, her grip on the plank shifted as did her stance, making it apparent that she was not one unaccustomed to a brawl. The man slowed fractionally and started to move sideways so that she could not back up with the wall behind her.

"This... may not be worth it..."

Blinking, Edreina left the suggestion to do it's work, hoping that it would be enough to save her further trouble. If it came right down to it, the Svefra feared her ability to beat a man with so much more mass, in her current state. She would have to fight fast and fight dirty.

[Nathaniel Ankah]

"She what?!"

Zeyphr didn't much like having some towering, sweaty land-strider bellow at him, but he had to appreciate the fact he was towering and not very happy. He took another sip of ale to fortify himself and shrugged his shoulders, face doing its best to convey that he didn't have anything to do with it.

"She went out," he repeated, gesturing to his fellows, lounging about outside Larry's. "Dunno what for, friend, but she seemed in-"

"Which way?"

"Down there. Hey, you sure that-"

Nate didn't let the Svefra finish, and if he did, he wasn't around to hear it. Brass-toed boots pounded out a faster rhythm on the cobbles now, convinced of a greater urgency than just getting a couple of coins. Well... in fairness, that was part of it, but he'd rather have Edreina had them to him than take them from her corpse.

The thought of which birthed an eel of worry in his guts that he didn't like. Was she mad? Walking around alone when darkness had fallen across The Berth? Harder men than her had gone for a jaunt at that time and ne'er been seen again. What, did she think she was special?

"Stupid blood girl," he spat out, vitriol covering his concern, face like an oncoming storm, enough to send the skittering, opportunistic shadows scurrying deeper into their doorways and alleys, "Get herself petching-"

His ears pricked suddenly. A yelp, stifled and echoing around bricks to his right. A surprised grunt... a man's. A scent in the air, familiar but choked by a thousand others, equally unpleasant. Running feet-

Focus on them. Let them guide you.

They didn't last long, but long enough for Nate to roughly discern the direction. But so what? Dawn in Sunberth greeted a dozen fresh corpses in the alleys, losers of gang disputes, debtors who'd finally ran out of credit, luckless souls robbed and violated, sometimes just those in the path of others who felt like indulging the quick, heady rush of murder.

How do you know that's her? It could be anyone.

For a stolen tick, Nate hesitated. Standing in the street, eyes fixed on the winding alley, chest heaving suddenly... then he unlimbered his mace, notched iron head half the size of his own, and made his decision.

"Plucky lil' cunt, aren't ya?"

Justin's sneer was more apropos for a reptile than a man, made all the more horrible by the distant candlelight and Leth's low beams. All semblance of his jocular, helpful facade had been stripped away. Now Edreina faced a man interested in money and... whatever amusement the skinny Svefra could provide.

"Yer a little scrawny for my taste, but-"

He paused. Words of caution trickled unknown and unbidden into his mind. Like any scavenger, Justin learned well to heed such gut feelings. The woman had already proven she knew how to throw a punch, and now she had a weapon, of sorts. Enough to stove in a head. For a moment his rodent eyes surveyed her and he seemed on the edge of deciding to try his luck with some other prey.

A child, for example. They were always so trusting...

"You outta put that down, love. Might hurt yerself. No? Well... fine by us..."

He nodded to someone off to the side, behind her, and a glance from Edreina would heave revealed a doughy, squat man with bad teeth and a bald head to her right, blocking her way out of the alley... and holding a hefy club in his hand.

Slap... slap... slap...

"Y'know to watch yer back, girlie..." Baldy said with a leer, beating out a soft rhythm on his palm with the head of the club. "Just not well enough."

Twin chuckles echoed around the alleyway as the duo enjoyed their momentary victory; the joy of sadists toying with something they thought weak and beaten. Justin's hand went to his belt and sharpened steel glinted evilly in the night. He licked his lips, gleam in his eyes that the Svefra may have seen in a lover once, now turned to a terrible new lust.

"Like I said..." He cooed softly, sauntering closer, in no rush, wanting to savor her fear. "... y'shouldna done that. Woulda' just cut yer throat and took yer purse. But now? Now-"

"Let her go."

A fresh voice joined the fray, and all eyes turned to the tall, still figure at the edge of the fracas. Nates green eyes simmered in their sockets, mace at his side, body wired and coiled despite his stance. Justin and his partner took in the big man and Nate could see the street math playing out in their minds.

Two of us against him? Doable, certainly, but one of us would get the worst of it, and the other would finish me off rather than split the purse. Plus the girl might be a problem...

"None of you biz-niss, Nate." Yet another voice. Another shadow detaching from the alley. "Best walk. No trouble."

One would not expect sorrow and regret to twist Nate's eyes when he saw the new man, but that was what they did, anyway. Jez stood there. That same smile. That same slash of ivory on ebony, but now his eyes were alive with a cruel joviality. He shrugged those broad shoulders and thumbed toward the girl.

"What is she to you, eh? Just a girl. You got you coin, we saw. We all saw. She left her place. Walked into wrong alley. Tsk-tsk. Not smart. Bad thing in Sunberth."

There was naught but breathing for a few ticks. Edreina's. Justin's. Jez. The other longshoreman whose name Nate didn't recall. And his own, steady after hitching in shock at Jez's presence. The stocky Eyktol refugee had seemed to... unlike Justin. Good-natured, hard-working, a simple man at odds with the fester of Sunberth.

"These streets..." Nate said with sadness, but by the time his head had stopped shaking, that had gone. Everything was gone. "... they always surprise you."

Justin rolled his eyes and turned to face Nate. The big brawler flicked a glance his way... and did his own math.

He'll talk. His kind love to talk. Love to hear themselves crow.

"Yer outnumbered, big man," Justin said, stepping closer and pointing at Nate from just a few feet away. "Best to-"

Nate lunged and swung in the same instant-

And they never seem to expect to be interrupted.

-and the head of his mace hammered into the side of Justin's leg like a wrecking ball. The comely boy screeched in agony as something cracked in his thigh, balance wobbling, going down to one knee-

-but fully aware of Nate's roar as his lunge ended with his boot swinging up like he was kicking a game ball over a high wall-

There was, to use the term, a sickening crunch. A spray of teeth and blood. Eyes that went from pained to stunned to blank. Then all was frantic movement as Jez unlimbered his blade and hurled himself at Nate with a scream from his homeland.

[Edreina]

"You outta put that down, love. Might hurt yerself. No? Well... fine by us..."

Us!? Edreina heard the man step from a darkened doorway before her head had finished turning to see him. It was then that enough light shone on the heavy man, the one she had hit, for her to recognize him and that this was not a random occurrence. How long had they been following her? How had she been stupid enough to walk into their trap?

Instead of cowering as her odds decreased, Edreina rolled her shoulders and smiled faintly. Without Razkar's fangs, a full-faced grin would not have been met with the reaction as he always garnered but the sight of a woman smiling as men prepared to prey upon her would, hopefully, continue to unnerve them.

"Y'know to watch yer back, girlie... Just not well enough."

The Svefra laughed with them, quietly and beneath her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, the bald one looked faintly unnerved, but nothing more. "And I suppose you'll be the one to teach me a lesson, then?" The leader's hand went to his belt, as if to answer, and Edreina snorted, rolling her eyes visibly. The angrier or more confused she was able to get them, the more likely they were to behave foolishly. She just had to keep her head cool in the meantime.

"Like I said... y'shouldna done that. Woulda' just cut yer throat and took yer purse. But now? Now-"

"Let her go."

Without letting the surprise enter her features, Edreina turned and took in the newcomer's visage with mild satisfaction. Immediately after, she was suspicious. How had he found her and what motive did he have to protect her other than to take her purse for himself?

"None of you biz-niss, Nate. Best walk. No trouble."

Three against one, Edreina tallied mentally, unwilling to count on Nate as he may have ulterior motives or decide to turn on her at any minute in the fight to come. With so much going on, Edreina forgot to be afraid. Her mind was too busy recalling all of her lessons, all of the things she had heard Razkar say and seen him do.

"Many fights can be avoided if you never give the other the thought of winning. Make him think it won't happen or that it will come at such a cost it wouldn't be worth it. Humans are simple. But a Myrian wants a fight..." She had not thought that it would, but hearing his voice, so clear and familiar and warm even in her mind was enough to bring a lump to her chest and a faint sob to her breath. It hurt to think of him as anything other than the man who had left her on Sahova to be enslaved and tortured. And yet, he still remained so much more.

But, he's not present. He left, and you're alone. Better petching act like it if you want to live at all. You've survived Annalisa; don't let these inbred vagiks win. The mental pep-talk was interrupted as Nate began to speak. While attention was on him, she started to angle her torso towards the man closest, shifting her weight to her toes so that she could move quickly. Whatever was about to happen, there was no time left.

Nate was smart, she would give him that, but untrained. Why go for the knee when the breast bone or shoulder would give you a better swing and higher chance of landing a blow?

The redhead and the bald man turned to look at one another at the same time. The only difference was that Edreina was already pulling the plank upwards and diagonally, turning it in her hands so that the narrower side would be the impact surface in hopes that this would give the rather flimsy board more stability and force. The man's free hand came up instinctively to block his face and the plank impacted the center of his forearm, dragging a howl and a reflexive retaliation from the man.

While he was swinging madly and off balance, Edreina hopped backwards, arching her back so that the club would pass where she had been. She then planted her food in front of her and pivoted over it, throwing herself forward and in a tight circle at the same time so that the plank could crack against the side of the man's head, sending him to his knees, staring dumbly. Gritting her teeth, Edreina hit the man once again, hard enough that his head shot forward and bounced off of the ground.

With him down, Edreina scrambled to grab his club only to find that it was much too heavy to wield for more than a moment. A choice had to be made, then. Risk fighting, or hope to the gods she could make it back to her kin at the inn before the bastards caught her. Yahal, watch over me... Laviku, aid your child.

She switched the plank into her non-dominant hand and shifted her pack so that both straps were firmly about her arms.

With a grunt, she hurled the club into the fray and took off running, faking to the left and then moving to skirt to the right of the trio and break into a dead sprint. If Nate could take on the others or take her cue, Edreina did not care; he was not her problem. Survival was.