Onward To Ne'haer

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

27th Trial of Zi'da, Arc 716

They'd reached Bayward without much hassle, however, the chill of the winter month drew her to the shops the moment she awoke that morning. Docked and secured by Haraji, Freya left the Arbiter in his hands and ventured with soft shivers into the town of thieves and liars.

Bayward was known for its changing political stance, being that each new governor of the place was often killed by the next hot shot pirate that stepped into town and claimed it his. Trouble lurked at every corner and within ever crevasse of Bayward. People made no attempt of hiding their weapons, so neither did Freya. She'd purchased a specially crafted dagger back in Rhakros that came with poison in its sheath, effectively coating the blade each time it was strapped into the compartment. Though she didn't know how to use it very well, that didn't stop her from tying it to her belt and making it quite obvious she would use it if situation called for such violence.

Freya also purchased a weapon for Wendell, though she tossed it off to Caed to give to him. Needless to say, ever since she'd kissed him back in Rhakros, the woman was quite obviously avoiding him. Their interactions went as far as maintaining the ship, helping with chores, cooking, or anything relating to the ship. Once finished, Freya would retired to her room for the night, or to the ship's wheel or deck with thick clothes secured to her form and something to pass the time with if her thoughts couldn't.

Wendell... Something about him edged at Freya's heart and maybe it was the fact that she'd been stuck on the same boat with him for almost an entire season. Maybe it was because she'd almost died protecting him from Qyona and Gorroc. A gentle hand lifted up to squeeze her shoulder, a scar laying beneath the clothing there. Needless to say, she was deeply confused, both by his confession and her emotions towards it.

“I want you...”

Biting her lip, Freya made her way into several shops and purchased the necessary clothes she needed for their trip to Ne'haer. She missed her home city and to say she wasn't anxious about returning to it would be an outright lie. History was there, but she wondered how much the city changed since they left during the attack. It was still there, from what she gathered, but would it be built different? Would the people still approach her the same? Were any of her friends still alive?

Many breaks passed before Freya met up with Caed and Wendell in the evening, packing things to take with them from the Arbiter.

“How much of my money did you spend?” Freya tossed the question over her shoulder, never looking to the dark skinned man as she stuff her satchel with what looked to be Panorium Powder.

“You'll have to ask Wendell that.” Caed replied, “I gave him the coin and the weapon and told him not to cause trouble.”

Freya frowned, but left it at that until they made their way off the ship and towards the stables to haggle prices for a caravan. Negotiating with a man was easy for Freya when pushing the skill of seduction into the mix. It didn't take much but constant eye contact, a flick of the tongue against soft lips, and a hard press attitude regarding price. Thankfully the man caved.

“I'll rent it to you for 80 gold nel.” He muttered, though his eyes still sank far below her own. “I expect it back by the end of Zi'da or I'll be putting a bounty on that pretty little head of yours.”

“Of course.” Freya replied with a smile before fishing the coin out. Once all things were dealt with, she and the three headed to the back where a caravan sat, medium sized, waiting to be filled with supplies and carried on its way by horses.

[Wendell]

Wendell had shot a glare in the dark man’s direction. Yes he had been set in charge of the coin and given a weapon, but he hadn't spent a single copper of the pirate’s filthy money. The leather purse was tossed at Freya’s feet for her to do the bargaining with while Wendell hung about to give anyone who wasn't participating the stink eye, curling his upper lip just in case they thought the three could be messed with.

He sheathed the cheap handaxe Freya had bought for him, tucking it into his belt, and helped load the wagon, doing most of the heavy lifting. Wendell hadn't exactly been ignoring Freya, but he hadn't made any attempts to socialise with her either, not since their time in Rhakros. He looked worn out, sleep deprived, and in need of a good bath.

“We are staying in a tavern tonight,” he told them, “just on the outskirts of Bayward. I'm not spending another night on that boat,” Wendell protested. “I need a bath, a drink, and a woman.”
Caed smirked, the gesture quickly wiped off his face when he caught Freya looking his way. “What?” the pirate raised his arms, “we could all use a drink!”
“Oh that's what we're calling it?” Wendell shook his head, amused.

On the boat Freya had maintained absolute authority, but on dry land things were different, she was outnumbered and outvoted, and by her own rules, crew members were not allowed to fraternise with each other. This meant Caed was just as excited by the prospect of spending a night in the local inn or tavern as Wendell was. Once the man had turned his back on Freya, he looked across at Wendell and smirked, but Wendell was careful not to return the gesture.

“Aren't you cold?” Caed asked him.
“I'll get something before we leave tomorrow.”
“With what coin?” the pirate inquired, curious.
“You'll see,” Wendell winked and helped get the caravan moving.

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

Having won the negotiation, Freya carried the packs she'd brought with her to the caravan and threw them in along with the bags carried by the other two. Earlier in the day, whilst out and about, Freya made several stops and dropped a number of barrels and crate off by the stables, in a secluded area which they found themselves in now. Soft grunts followed as each person grasped the merchandise and heaved it into their transportation.

Freya was pretty relaxed and remained quiet while the two spoke. However, she stiffened noticeably when Wendell made mention of a tavern and his... needs. Her eyes reddened and narrowed on Caed when she noticed his lewd smirk, as she was now avoiding eye contact with her not-slave. Pausing for a long moment, she shrugged then said, “A drink? Sure.” Came her accented voice as she hefted another barrel into the caravan.

Caed appeared surprised she'd agreed with such an outing, but quickly, the woman frowned and crossed her arms, a hip jutted out softly as authority still gripped her pose. “A drink is all I want. You two can do as you please.” She answered, turning then to drop the curtain down over the back before latching and tying everything into place. Caed angled back towards Wendell, continuing conversation once more but the woman said nothing. Instead, she finished securing the curtain and stepped around the vehicle to make sure all was right with its structure before moving back to where they stood. Glancing quickly between the two, she nodded her head toward the exit of the establishment.

“He'll prepare the horse in the morning. For now, we're set.” Running her eyes over Wendell's frame, her expression blanked a bit, a familiar mask pushing into place. When again her gaze rose to his, he was looking back and she held it for a moment, eyes dancing between a multitude of colors. Regardless, she said nothing else and made her way around and out of the stables area.

This wasn't the first time Freya had been to Bayward, nor would it be the last. She knew the place well enough, but needed no guide to find the closest tavern. The noise was suggestion enough. Wooden doors propped open to a cluster of people settled within the establishment. Boisterous laughter, music, and sound washed over Freya when she entered, along with several wandering eyes.

One of which was the bartender and like a hawk swooping in on a mouse, she weaved through the tables and bodies toward the man, smiling when she landed in front of him with sparkling red and pink eyes. He didn't seem all that surprised by her sudden interest, but his smile remained nevertheless. “Those eyes look dangerous— after something?” He asked with quirked brow. There was a scar there, she noted.

“Definitely... Would you like to find out?” Freya fired back smoothly and bit her bottom lip before glancing toward the door. The pleasantness in her expression fell away when she saw a woman already mingling with her two crew members by the door. Another slid up next to the petite blonde— brunette, curvy, with dimpled cheeks and dark eyes. Frowning softly, the biqaj looked away, returning blue, silver, and red eyes to the bartender.

“Friends of yours?” He asked.

“Hardly.” The frown faded into a seductive grin as she leaned forward against the bar and continued to flirt deviously with the man in front of her.

[Wendell]

With everything done, Wendell checked the stables once more to make sure there was nothing left and Freya passed him on her way out, lingering for a moment, her eyes fixed on his. Wendell turned to look over his shoulder as she walked by him and kicked the hay at his feet in frustration. Damn her and her stupid rules, and her confusing eyes, and… just… damn her.

They later found themselves in the closest tavern, following after their captain once more, but were stopped at the door by a pair of pretty hookers hoping to make a bit of gold. Caed was quick to pass up his coin, but Wendell had come to steal business, not take it. He secured a room and left the tavern to wash, sitting in a hot bath for a while, until all of the dust and grease was soaked from his skin. He used the soap provided by the tavern, and scrubbed and scrubbed until he had almost forgotten the journey, and what it smelt like to have sea salt in his hair and on his skin.

Out of the bath he shaved his face and did his best to trim his hair in the mirror, almost a different person by the time he had finished with his grooming regime. His nails had been cut right back so that the tips of his fingers were soft and didn't catch on material anymore, and he changed into a fresh tunic and pair of pants that brought back the smell of the ship.

Out in the tavern he surveyed the room and his options, Freya and Caed had both disappeared, and he decided they were probably making the most of their time on land. He was approached by a woman and quickly blew her off, having spotted a pair he thought might have a little more gold to play with. The man was well dressed, tall, very lean, and had a pompous look about him. Wendell knew money when he saw it, and this guy looked loaded, not just because of his style of dress and gilded hands, but the company he kept, and the wine they all shared in. Ross, what an ordinary name Wendell had thought to himself, and surely not the man's real one, but it would do. Besides, he had already noticed Ross was having trouble trying not to stare too long at him, and that was exactly the kind of customer, or victim, he had been looking for.

Ross sat with two beautiful, somewhat mature women, thin and fair, with curls in their hair and lips stained red. Wendell had been chatting with the group for some time, sharing some boring tale about how he had ended up in Bayward, so far from the truth that no one would suspect a thing. They had invited him to share in their wine and the warmth of the fire they sat near, and soon enough it looked as if he had always been there, just a less dressed friend with a few interesting tales to tell.

A couple of wines later and a game or two to make sure everyone else at the table had consumed more than they could handle and still make rational decisions, and Wendell made his move. He had whispered something saucy into one of the women's ear, and she in turn had repeated it to her friend, leaving the two of them giggling madly. Ross perked up, wondering what they had all found so amusing, and Wendell merely shook his head as if it wasn't important.
“Come on, tell me,” the young man smiled.
The pair giggled and leaned forward to share Wendell’s little secret. “It's true,” one of them nodded.
Ross pinned Wendell with a quizzical look and leaned closer to the man. “You pleasured a king?” he repeated in a whisper.
“From distant lands,” Wendell agreed.
“Are you some kind of---”
“Only the best,” Wendell interrupted him, and the women giggled again.
“I should like to know what it is to experience only the very best,” the man smirked, “but I am promised to Charlene’s sister,” he pointed to the brunette, and the redhead sat next to her edged closer to her friend and smiled.
“Well, that is no trouble,” Wendell grinned. “You could always watch and pick up a few tips for pleasing Carlene’s sister.”
Ross went bright red. “Watch?” his eyes widened, and he ducked, looking about the tavern before lowering his voice again. “Watch you and… them?” he looked at his friends, who got up and moved to sit either side of Wendell.
Wendell put an arm around each of the women and couldn't help by smile like a smug fool. “For a price.”
A bead of sweat traced Ross’ brow, and he dabbed it away with a folded piece of silk from his breast pocket. “And you would be okay with that?” he asked Charlene and her friend, looking at them as if they had gone mad.
“Of course,” Charlene replied. “I find the idea extremely appealing.”
“I only have one rule,” Wendell warned them. “If Ross finds that he can't keep his hands to himself and decides to join in, you all pay triple,” he winked.
Ross scoffed as if to say how dare this stranger question his self control. “And if I don't touch?”
“I'll let Charlene and Amberley have it for free.”
“You're on!” Ross smiled and held his hand out.
Wendell reached forward and shook the man’s hand before getting to his feet to lead all three of them back to his room.

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

Freya fell into conversation with the bartender and after awhile, she realized she'd yet to ask his name. After another story of hilarious brawls within the tavern, Freya introduced herself. “Oh, I know,” He'd said with a smirk, to which she leaned back a bit with much surprise. “I can't believe you forgot about me.”

Narrowing her eyes, her gaze fell on the scar cut over his left eyebrow. She thought she'd recognized the flesh wound paired with those lovely, dark blue eyes from somewhere, but her mind couldn't piece together where exactly. Moments ticked by until the man set a glass of ale down in front of her— this would be her third one now— and leaned on his elbows with an amused expression. “You break my heart, Freya.”

“Torren?” She asked hesitantly. His smile only grew as he bowed his head.

“Took you long enough.”

“Torren Frennik, you sly bastard! Where have you been all these Arcs?” Freya's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. No wonder he'd eyed her coming in or the fact that she practically fell into the sit trying to seduce him for free drinks— which wasn't working...

Torren was a friend, loosely, she'd known back in her rebel years as a teenager. He was a human apart of the rival clan of Biqaj's Freya's ex-clan loved to hate. Torren's clan wasn't as steady fast to tradition as most clans in Ne'haer were, therefore, they're views of the world and the people within it were less restricted. At one point, Freya sought to be adopted into Torren's family, but alas, such hopes ceased the moment word spread of the family's demise. Almost the entire clan has burned to death on their boat and though trial was held for the supposed murdered, Freya felt in her gut that it was much larger than some newbie arsonist looking for a quick thrill.

Nevertheless, Freya was surprised to find Torren here.

“I've been here,” He responded, picking up a wet mug to clean, “For many, many Arcs.”

“But your family?”

“They're gone.” He retorted quickly and the smile dropped, “ The Grandparents, I mean. They passed peacefully in their sleep. Nothing to worry about, though. Inheritance gave me a massive piece of land outside the town. It's close enough to the woods to keep the scum away and close enough to the town to scare everything else back, for the most part.”

Freya frowned softly, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Rainer's looking for you, yah know.” He suddenly tossed on top of everything else. Freya felt her form grow rigid. If only she could blame the cold air of Zi'da blasting through the room, but the tavern was actually quite warm. Her eyes shifted toxic green as she glanced up to the man. “Rainer?.. I haven't...”

“I figured. Thought I'd warn you though. He cam in about a month ago looking for some gossip on you. Said something about an arrest or bounty?”

“Bounty..?!” Pushing back from the bar, her eyes darkened, “That must be a lie.”

Torren offered a gentle shrug, “I don't know, but he seemed very interested in your whereabouts... I don't know if he's still within Bayward or back in Ne'haer, but I'd keep an eye out for him if I were you. His reputation is... known, to say the least, and your history with him has passed many ears.”

“Even your own, it seems.” Freya sighed and sank forward. “Sard.”

“On the bright side, I'll let that one be on the house.” He nodded to the tankard of ale. “You got a ship you're heading back to?”

Freya's head slowly rose from her brunette curtain as her hands finally reached for the mug and she took several long gulps, chugging it completely. “Might as well,” She sighed, offering the empty mug with coin next to it. “One more and I'll get out of your hair...”

Stress knotted her insides as she knocked back another tankard of ale before slipping from the stool and making her way from the bar. The alcohol was slowly working into her system but did little as a quick relief from her sudden fear. Why was Rainer looking for her? What was this talk of a bounty? Freya couldn't fathom how such things were possible. She'd been so careful...

Green eyes turned towards the stairs just as she saw a group of people making their way down them. One man in particular held her attention and it wasn't until her eyes landed on the tattoo on his neck that Freya realized it was Wendell. He looked so... so clean. The woman forgot how handsome he was under such ruggedness and maneuvered her form towards his direction with soft steps.

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of him while the other three looked upon her as if she'd grown a second head. Maybe she had, but flushed cheeks from the alcohol in her veins cared little for what anyone else thought of her but the one standing just before her. Then, as if satisfied, her gaze drifted to the others. They all looked... unkempt. It was obvious what Wendell had down with them and she scowled, slowly coming back around to eye the man. “You...” Biting her tongue, she clenched her fists, his smugness upon her realization of his actions only flaming her sudden anger. “You...!” Wendell palmed his pocket, the sound of heavy coin clattered against one another jingled in her ear and then she suddenly, and quite obviously, deflated.

“Why do this? You could have used my coin... I don't care if you do.” Freya's voice was light and the toxic green of her eyes fell into deep, exotic shades of brilliant blue and silver. Shaking her head, the captain combed her fingers through her hair and turned to leave. “I saved you from nothing.” She muttered more to herself than anyone else.

[Wendell]

Smug was just the tip of the iceberg, Wendell felt absolutely exhilarated. He had needed a decent shag and his latest customers had provided just that, along with three times the coin he might have made anywhere else on account of his little dare. Freya pinned him with those mysterious eyes of hers, and he stood glued to the spot on the stairs. Ross, Charlene, and Amberley paused to take measure of the captain before continuing on, keen to leave the tavern for the night.

Freya looked ready to storm off and as she did, Wendell hurried down the last few steps and grabbed her arm, spinning the woman about. “Wait,” he told her in her own language. She wasn't allowed to be angry at him, this was her code after all, what happened on the mainland, stayed on the mainland.

Half of the tavern had turned around to look at them, including the bartender, and Wendell turned Freya about, marching her up the stairs so that they could talk in private. A candle had been left burning in the room he had rented, and the bed didn't even look like it had been touched, though there were a few marks on the wall behind the mirror and scuffs on the wooden floor where the dresser had been rocked. Wendell’s neck was smeared with red lipstick, and there was a bitemark across the lobe of his left ear.

“You can't be angry at me, surely?” he asked her. “Look,” he turned out his pockets and threw the coin down on the bed. “There is almost four hundred gold there. Four hundred, Freya. Don't tell me you wouldn't like a cut of that?” Of course she wouldn't, he knew that she was too proud to take any money from him, a slave. “You know this is how I make a living, I can't keep taking favours and accepting gifts from you. You don't want to be my keeper, then let me be a man, and let me contribute to this clan,” he said. “I need some warmer clothes and some pain killers, after that… you can do whatever you like with the rest,” Wendell offered, he didn't need much, but something was better than nothing, he couldn't live out of her hand forever.

Or was this about something more, something he had admitted back in Rhakros? Are you angry at me for making the coin, or pleasing those people for it?” The question was bold, but being honest worked best with him. “Don't storm out,” his tone softened, “scold me if need be, slap me, but don't run away,” he pleaded, she had avoided him enough this season.

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

Caught by the arm, Freya whipped her head around as Wendell halted her escape from him and lead her forward up the stairs. She tried not to stumble even as the fourth tankard of ale was now settled in her system and pleasantly numbed her fingertips, toes, and lips. Freya tried to keep her mind ration even as he lead her into a room, one she only later assumed was were he'd done the deed with those three. She stood awkwardly, looking from the bed to the dresser, one side having been pushed back against the wall before she sighed and turned to face him.

But Wendell only approached her yet and from past experience, she took measure to step away from him as he emptied out his pockets onto the bed. Four hundred gold nel?! He'd made four hundred gold nel in less than two hours. Crossing her arms, she shook her head. “I am angry with you and I don't want any of that...” She spoke. Freya knew better, even as he explained it to her. He was a companion after all. Wendell made money by pleasing others but somehow, she couldn't see him as that anymore. As a lovely courtesan to grant every sexual wish. When she thought upon it, Freya realized she had more respect for the man then that, even if he had tried to kill her.

Her eyes widened and shifted blazing gold when he mentioned providing for the clan. Her heart squeezed and started to hammer in her chest as a blush settled on her cheeks. Being marked her slave meant that he was apart of her clan, but to say it in such a way... “N-No, no, Wendell. I don't want your money. Please, just keep it.” She pressed, trying to move around him. He was doing something to her, making her ache in a way that put butterflies in her stomach.

Wendell stood in front of her, however, and proceeded to question her further, crossing the line into unknown territory that left the woman speechless. No, Freya thought, she couldn't answer that question. Alarms went off in her head, ones that told her a confession would surly spell disaster. Wendell was a man and like all men, Freya knew he enjoyed control. Her feelings for him would only further suggest his power over her and she couldn't allow that to happen.

“Stop it.” She bit out, but he was only softer with her yet. Freya eyed his neck, finding lip stick stain upon her mark and felt a well of bitterness overtake her as she turned from him and headed back toward the bed. “You don't know what you ask, Companion...” Thumbing the gold on the bed, Freya shook her head and looked to him.

“You are more than this, that is why I'm angry. You are much more than some Companion to pleasure others. This was your job back in Rharne but it isn't your job anymore, don't you see that?” Approaching him once more, she started undoing his shirt only to press the collar open so she could rub away the stain on his neck with the cuff of her shirt. Possessiveness guided her action and once she was sure the stain was completely erased, she lightly caressed the mark with her thumb before looking up to him. “You aren't my slave, Wendell. You're—...” Hesitation caught her voice as her eyes moved between his, her heart pounding yet.

Say something, her thoughts screamed. Say something!

Don't give in, the devil chimed on her shoulder, he'll only use you, in the end. Maybe that's why she wanted him though. Maybe after all these years, she'd become an addict for being used. Freya wanted him, wanted to find out all the secrets he carried and then some. She wanted to find out what it meant to be pleasured by him but also, something more than that. Something her greedy, lonesome heart dare not crave.

“You're more than that...” Her previous words finally echoed forth, “Much more, to me.”

She dared her hand to rise from his neck and curl so she could caress his cheek with the back of her knuckles. Then her hand fell away, as did her gaze, and she sighed. “Please don't do this anymore. Anything else, but not this.”

[Pegasus]

Freya

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/ 5
Structure: 5/ 5

Knowledge:

Location: Bayward
Bayward: Political situation
Bayward: A dangerous place
Wendell: A confusing man
Torren: A friend
Rainer: Looking for you
A bounty on your head?
Detection: Recognising old acquaintances by scars
Detection: Identifying factors
Seduction: Eyes, lips and bumps a daisy.
Seduction: Leaning forward
Negotiation: Use every trick in your arsenal
Negotiation: Seduction and negotiation go hand in hand.

Loot:

Please deduct the cost of the following from your ledger: 1x dagger with poison-filled hilt, 1 x weapon for Wendell, clothing purchased, 80gn for the caravan rental

Fame:

-4 (Bounty on your head!)

Devotion:

NA

Magic:

These points may NOT be used for arcana

Wendell

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/ 5
Structure: 5/ 5

Knowledge:

Location: Bayward
Bayward: Political situation
Bayward: A dangerous place
Freya: Wants you to stop doing this, please and thank you.
Cosmetology: Scrub away the smell of the sea
Cosmetology: Facial hair must be tamed
Cosmetology: Trimming your hair
Cosmetology: Keeping your nails and hands nice
Storytelling: Tidbits can be entrancing
Detection: Spotting money
Business Management: How to spot a likely customer
Business Management: Keep your eyes on the prize
Business Management: Choose your message - and your messenger - carefully.
Business Management: Buy one, get one free....
Negotiation: Make just the right offer, at just the right time.

Loot:

+416 gn

Fame:

NA

Devotion:

NA

Magic:

These points may NOT be used for arcana

Overview:

General comments. I loved this thread! It was so interesting to see the two of them together and so very well done. You interwove two stories so beautifully, truly excellent work.
Story Great - really compelling, I loved how you started together, separated out and then returned back together. Really well written.
Structure Lovely. You both have wondeful writing styles.

Please do PM me if you think I've missed anything or you have any questions!