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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
That Sir Ichs had no chairs to offer her a seat onto was bad enough. Now he was trying to tempt her into staying at their rundown little Hold. His paper shuffling made him appear that he should have been in Court or as some sort of clerk in a position of paper-pushing instead of combat. We are simply passing through. Our duties take us farther from here. We would not want to put a strain on your resources as it is. Whisper kept her tone very impersonal. She wanted to end the conversation and go back to where she belonged, with her people, but courtesies, even false ones, seemed important. And here I had wanted to see if I could even get one volunteer to take Jet and Paul's places, but now I am significantly doubting all of their abilities before I've even seen any of them! I can't believe that Leosine would permit such a... travesty! This is one of His places and yet these men seem not to notice it at all!

She suddenly felt rage trickle into the back of her mind and then it was gone. Echo...? It had been like a breeze or a scent. It wafted into her mind and then suddenly disappeared as if it had never been. She tugged within herself and found that... What...? I can't even feel Echo. Has she found a way to block me and is... making love to Charles maybe? Oh my. That would be... Oh my.


Shad had heard women cry, wail, scream, curse, and weep with fury. Never before had he seen men's heads pop like so many bloody zits. He blinked at the carnage. The blood spray had hit his pants and boots. Mage. Damnit. He licked the tip of his finger and plunged it into his pipe to snuff the drug out as he wearily got up to his feet. He then went to the bodies and collected the bloody coins that lay scattered about and stuck them all in a pocket. Hmm. Looks like I win. Pot's all mine. The man wiped his fingers on his dark pants to clean them. He smiled a cold smile, a knowing smile as he glanced at the woman, shackled in the little alcove that they had called a cell. The cut across his lips wrinkled, his almost almond shaped hazel eyes glistening in irritation. With a sigh, he advanced on the woman, entering the small cell she sat in, chained to the wall, most assuredly as her hands were slowly losing circulation from being held at such an angle.

His booted feet echoed loudly in the now soundless series of rooms, almost ominously. He hunkered down on his feet befor her and reached out one of his scarred hands. Slowly, he placed his hand about her throat and squeezed, firmly and evenly. It wouldn't crush. It wouldn't break. It was just enough to cut off her windpipe for just a few seconds before he released it again. Just a firm pressure, enough to make her realize, to really know that she was the loser here. You sure are an idiot. Had I been lying dead too, what were you going to do? Hmm? Magic your way out of here? No key to your shackles, no one to know where you were, no way to know how to open the door, and no way to find your way to the populated parts of the city? Chances are that you would die, the large rats and other creatures down here would smell your death stink, claw their ways in, and devour you. That is... if you were lucky enough to be dead before they scented you sitting in your own piss and shit. He spoke calmly, rationally, as if she were an idiot child who knew nothing. His scarred face and the bent nose were proof that he had lived through plenty of things.

Now that he knew her dirty little secret, he felt pretty smug. When the other men came back from their rounds, he'd have them clean up the corpses. It was more important to sit beside her and keep her nulled. Bitch. Men are replaceable, but sometimes it's hard to find new ones right away. Irritating... He scooted to sit beside her. She could probably kick his leg if she wanted to, not that it would do her a lot of good. He turned his face upon her, looking at her and her dark hair and fearful eyes. The insane laughter had been new, but she had swallowed that pretty quick when he wasn't dead. So, darling. Just you and me now until the rest of my men get here and clear away your mess. You're at my mercy no matter how much spirit you may have or how much carnage you can do with your magic. So how about you give me your name, darling? I have a ransom note to finish after all. He gave her a cruel half smile. I hope no one loses their lunch on the floor. I try so hard to keep everything tidy and dry and someone always wipes their ass on something that they weren't supposed to. He rested his back against the stone wall, the back of his head pressed against it, his knees bent to keep him pressed comfortably seated against it. Even his hands were lax settled upon his knees. It was as if he wasn't concerned about being near her at all, which he wasn't.
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Shadows · City Randatria

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