Private Tales A New Experience

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Keia Merrenia

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The newly ennobled baron Christian Vide, had once upon a time, been an assassin who had fled from his order. They had sent agents, he had killed them, and Keia had joined him for this adventure, and in return for his protection, she’d sold herself to him. The knight who had been hunting her, a Duke in truth, had offered, in exchange for him keeping her under control, granted him lands and a title. So now the baron of a small fief in the southern lands of the Kinniger Duchy, and his local law enforcement, a garrison of well trained men and women, who were drilled as hard as he had been in the same skills, and through necromancy their souls were secured in solid, more durable objects, typically spheres of solid iron, and they were dispatched across the fief.

That day, Keia was working in her tower, for some reason magic users were attracted to towers. She was working on a project for her master, the baron. She was a small, scantily clad, shapely Kavosh woman with a green knee length skirt with a cut down one side, and a form fitting halter top. Around her neck was a tight, black leather collar with a number of silver studs evenly placed across it’s surface. She heard a commotion outside and poked her head out to see a woman being dragged through the courtyard by a quartet of the Baron’s guards. She was curious what the woman’s crime was.
 
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"Ugh..." she groaned, as she slowly came to. Her head was throbbing, and it was painful to blink. What happened? she wondered. She'd just left the inn, then there was some shouting, a brawl, and then next thing she knew she was being dragged unceremoniously through the street, headed towards where? The back of her head felt sticky. Dried blood, she reckoned. Her blood.

She peered around, getting a good look at her surroundings and her captors. They were well-equipped for provincials. They're better trained too, if it was one of them that got the jump on me, she thought. This courtyard looked nothing like a barracks. Where were they taking her?
 
Christian sat regally in his seat, the main hall where they deal with matters of the city.
The steward the Duke provided for him dealt with most common issues in keeping in accordance with the Duke's preferences while he remained present as window-dressing to give his stamp of approval of everything happening. But the dealing of criminal cases diverted to him and his authority.

If he were anyone else it would be a boring and demeaning job. But there was nothing dull about what he was doing, at least not to him even if he could feel the anxiety that would bring others to think sitting on a throne to be boring.
He was watching, learning. The Duke made him a Baron as a compromise for keeping his servant alive, but he was making the best of it.

The woman they brought in was a bit the worse for wear. Rough treatment by experimental creatures was to be expected in the beginning stages, but it was annoying from the public relations standpoint.
The steward gave way to let Christian have the floor, though in this place he went by the name Bruce so that's who everyone knew him by.
His face and voice were totally devoid of human emotion or expression as he addressed the escorting guards.
"What is she charged with?"
 
Keia came down from her tower to observe the proceedings. She saw the woman in more detail, and saw how damaged she was physically. The new guard were a little harsh, perhaps a result of their training. But that was something to be fixed later.

The guard spoke, (go ahead and choose your offence Valencia.)
 
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"Lord, this one's charged with assault, battery, disturbing the peace and instigation," the guard rattled in a steely voice.

"Lies. I was minding my own business. I've done nothing wrong." She proclaimed, indignant. Of course, she wasn't actually sure if she was innocent. but with how hard her head was throbbing it was difficult to recall the chain of events.

"Was it minding your business to shatter the stablehand's hip? Or break Ranulf's face?" the steely-voiced guard retorted. There was, oddly enough, no sting to his words, as though he were just making a statement of fact. That was surprising discipline for a mere guardsman, to be sure.

"We have witnesses claiming she instigated a melee in town shortly after midday. One'll be along soon as he gets his shoulder set. The other might need a couple of days. Her handiwork, lord. Far as we can tell, she's not local."
 
He listened impassively to the charges while his hard blue eyes read her body language and reactions.
Even if she didn't remember what happened or denied it outright she didn't seem at all surprised that she could cause this much damage.
An outsider causing trouble wasn't unusual, if it got bad enough they usually joined the ranks of their soul bound soldiers. If it was minor they spent some time in the dungeon and then were kicked out of the city.

This one was a happy middle ground.
He noticed Keia as she entered the hall and motioned for her to join him and kneel by his side.
He was silent and thoughtful for a long moment, just to make the steward red faced and antsy from his impatience, if Christian could take joy in anything it was antagonizing that man.

Finally he spoke up.
"What's your name, and where do you come from?"
 
He noticed Keia as she entered the hall and motioned for her to join him and kneel by his side.
He was silent and thoughtful for a long moment, just to make the steward red faced and antsy from his impatience, if Christian could take joy in anything it was antagonizing that man.

Keia, seeing her master’s beckoning, obeyed. She walked calmly to the side of the Baron’s seat, and knelt on the floor to his left, her legs together and hands folded in her lap, she continued to watch the proceedings with growing interest. A woman so young capable of resisting, and injuring, some of their soulbound soldiers, which while capable of being slain, were much harder to kill due to the fact that their souls were placed in more durable containers.

She smiled amusedly at the Steward’s impatience, she was technically one of her lord’s sources of entertainment, but that didn’t mean that she too was not entertained by his own hobbies, which included tormenting that poor man. It was not going to get old anytime soon.
 
A woman walked into view from the sidelines, taking her place beside the lord on her knees. She observed this newcomer with interest. A concubine? Mistress? There was only one throne, and no lady of the house would sit in the manner she was in. There was something about her that unsettled her. She dressed ... exotic, and she seemed like a dainty proper lady if not for her choice of clothes. Yet something about her had Val on her toes.

"Valencia," came her reply. "I'm from uh ..." she hesitated, pausing briefly, "Pigsty. I'm from Pigsty. You've probably never heard of it, just a community of pig herders out in the sticks." She was lying, of course, but she doubted anyone would know or even bother to check the veracity of her claim. Who'd go out looking for a village called Pigsty anyway?

"Whatever your men are accusing me of I assure you they have the wrong woman."

She watched the lord carefully, waiting to see his reaction.
 
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"Valencia,"
"I'm from uh ..."
"Pigsty. I'm from Pigsty. You've probably never heard of it, just a community of pig herders out in the sticks."
Even if he wasn't attuned to the intricacies of lying and deception, being a master of such arts himself, it would take a truly self deprecating man to found a village named "Pigsty", with so cliché an occupation as pig farming. He's found plenty of towns and villages with beautiful names that didn't match the town itself, and likewise very ugly named villages with beautiful lands.
Contrast and irony often made these villages worth visiting and gave them a bit of a history.
Granted there were also ugly villages with ugly names and vise versa, but the fact that he could recognize the lie in her words ruled out those factors.

He decided to call her bluff.
"Valencia? If you're an example of the people that come out of Pigsty then they must be a very skilled if not violent people. You injured trained guardsmen coming from such a squalor place? no easy task."
He motioned for the steward to make note of it. It wasn't the mans job, he was no scribe, but Christians job wasn't simple ornamentation either. The man reddened even more but scrabbled for a pen and paper anyways.
Christian smiled and allowed his posture in the throne to relax a little.
"I am the Baron of this holding, Bruce Fydorian. You've entered the land of Stonewatch, I would be the first to welcome you if I didn't suspect such a gesture to be wasted on one who so bluntly saw fit to disrespect our hospitality and our laws..."

An idea occurred to him that made him pause. He fell silent as he thoroughly explored the idea that struck him, his gaze never wavering from the woman restrained before him.
After a long drawn out moment he drew himself out of his thoughtful state an he leaned forward with his elbow planted on his knee and his chin resting on his fist.
"... But perhaps I'll allow you to regain your welcome... I've seen to the training of these guards myself, and while they lack much they are a cut above any soldier from anywhere else... I challenge you to break free from these guards and avoid capture for two minutes without leaving the room. I wish to see first hand what you can do."
The steward was about to openly object, but he wasn't an idiot and he noticed the quick flinch of the Baron's hand towards one of his many hidden daggers that he always kept strapped to his body.
Self preservation ruled out his distaste of the unorthodox chain of events.
 
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Even if he wasn't attuned to the intricacies of lying and deception, being a master of such arts himself, it would take a truly self deprecating man to found a village named "Pigsty", with so cliché an occupation as pig farming. He's found plenty of towns and villages with beautiful names that didn't match the town itself, and likewise very ugly named villages with beautiful lands.
Contrast and irony often made these villages worth visiting and gave them a bit of a history.
Granted there were also ugly villages with ugly names and vise versa, but the fact that he could recognize the lie in her words ruled out those factors.

He decided to call her bluff.
"Valencia? If you're an example of the people that come out of Pigsty then they must be a very skilled if not violent people. You injured trained guardsmen coming from such a squalor place? no easy task."
He motioned for the steward to make note of it. It wasn't the mans job, he was no scribe, but Christians job wasn't simple ornamentation either. The man reddened even more but scrabbled for a pen and paper anyways.
Christian smiled and allowed his posture in the throne to relax a little.
"I am the Baron of this holding, Bruce Fydorian. You've entered the land of Stonewatch, I would be the first to welcome you if I didn't suspect such a gesture to be wasted on one who so bluntly saw fit to disrespect our hospitality and our laws..."

Keia wasn't a master of lies like her master, who's name to her was Christian Vide, but even she had a hard time believing her half hearted lie. And when he himself called her out on it she knew for certain that it wasn't true. What did surprise her was that he praised her skill, albeit not very much. But she, like the poor steward, knew to keep her mouth shut, lest she face punishment like he. She listened and watched with curious interest as he scolded her on her lawbreaking, as though scolding a child for playing with a pet in the wrong place.

An idea occurred to him that made him pause. He fell silent as he thoroughly explored the idea that struck him, his gaze never wavering from the woman restrained before him.
After a long drawn out moment he drew himself out of his thoughtful state an he leaned forward with his elbow planted on his knee and his chin resting on his fist.
"... But perhaps I'll allow you to regain your welcome... I've seen to the training of these guards myself, and while they lack much they are a cut above any soldier from anywhere else... I challenge you to break free from these guards and avoid capture for two minutes without leaving the room. I wish to see first hand what you can do."
The steward was about to openly object, but he wasn't an idiot and he noticed the quick flinch of the Baron's hand towards one of his many hidden daggers that he always kept strapped to his body.
Self preservation ruled out his distaste of the unorthodox chain of events.

This definitely surprised her, and she looked up at him with a question in her eyes. Why? her gaze asked. She was no fool, and knew not to question his reasoning or second guess him, but she asked not to question his judgement but rather to understand what he was trying to do. Then it dawned on her, if this woman were capable of evading capture from these men for two solid minutes in an enclosed space, they might be able to learn a thing or two and improve upon their already substantial skills. Definitely something to work towards, and something the Duke who gave her master Stonewatch to begin with would approve of, as he had made similar deals in the past.
 
The sarcasm in his voice was palpable. Uh oh, he didn't buy it, she thought. I guess it's time to get comfortable with a cell. Or the stocks.

To her surprise, rather than order her taken away, he was suggesting something bizarre. Such a curious request; would she go free if she humored the baron? In any case, it was much preferable to being locked up, but she needed to stall for time to survey the battleground.

"That's pretty unreasonable don't you think? I'm unarmed, unarmored and you expect me to put up a fight against your men? Come now, do you really believe a small woman like me could do what your men claim I did, milord? "

Even as she made her appeal, her eyes darted around the room, taking stock of the area. There were a couple of extra court guards, though it was strange that they were performing their duty at such a distance from their charge. While the courtroom was beautifully decorated with tapestries and banners, there was a distinct lack of practical ornaments. "Practical", in her situation, were things such as a coat of arms or ceremonial or decorative weaponry. The ceiling was much too high, making an escape upwards improbable, but not impossible. There were a number of balconies, probably for the nobility to observe the proceedings of court from. It wouldn't be hard to climb up onto them.

Plenty of room to move, just need to secure a weapon.

She wasn't about to risk losing her hand trying to steal a sword from the guards, but perhaps she wouldn't need one. After all, she just had to evade capure for awhile didn't she?
 
"That's pretty unreasonable don't you think? I'm unarmed, unarmored and you expect me to put up a fight against your men? Come now, do you really believe a small woman like me could do what your men claim I did, milord? "
He nodded seriously, "Yes, that's exactly what I think. Don't worry about arms or armor, my men won't use weapons to capture you."
As with any good interrogation he watched what she did more than he listened to what she said... And she was making plans.

"Escape and remain uncaptured for two minutes. You're time will start the minute you escape. Keia will keep track of your time and inform you when your time is up."
He leaned forward as if eager to watch. While he wasn't bored with days on end in the court he sometimes found it beneficial to portray himself as a restless young lord eager for entertainment.
Speaking of entertainment, this girl wasn't hard on the eyes at all. It might be a relief to everyone to have another woman on staff, if her skills proved greater than his guardsmen then hiring her to train them would be prudent.

His face maintained an outward mask of mild amusement and anticipation, but while he was indeed curious he inwardly felt nothing else on the matter.
 
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Keia, as her lord had said to the woman, would keep track of her time. She conjured and illusionary hourglass, one with two minutes worth of sand in the top, but they didn’t fall, not until she escaped, and only then. The beauty of illusions was that they were actually useful for more than just distracting people, in fact, the illusion hourglass would work just as well as a real one, she just needed to know the right size and how much sand would go through the small hole and she was golden.

She smiled expectantly at the woman, watching and waiting.
 
She was visibly startled at the turn of events. This had to be a game. She eyed the woman, the baron's mage, warily, but could glean nothing from her smiling visage. After a brief back and forth as she shifted her gaze from lord to mage, she sighed heavily. Like it or not, she'd have to do as he wanted.

She stumbled to her feet from the floor, seemingly unsteady. Then without warning, she raced towards the throne before any of the guards could react. She heard swords unsheathing, the guards ignoring the baron's rules as they perceived he was in danger. He wasn't her target though; she alighted the first step up to the throne dais, using the momentary elevation and her momentum as a springboard, somersaulting high into the air backwards. The captain (she assumed) was first to get to her, swinging his sword in a high cut, just narrowly missing her. His men were slower on the uptake, and made no attempt at attacking her rapidly descending form. As she passed the last guard her legs shot out, kicking the man in the head and sending him tumbling into his fellows.

Landing on her feet, she wasted no time as she made a dash towards one of the balconies. The courtroom guards were coming at her now as well, and while they'd left their polearms at their posts they were still too numerous and armored for her to grapple with. The guards coming from her front were far too close to her goal, so she made a quick turn to the left, running right at the wall. As she came up against it she sprung high, clinging onto the tail of the banner hanging eight feet up on the wall. She had to move quick; as light as she was the hanger wasn't made to bear the weight of an individual.

With no small difficulty, her booted feet found purchase on the smooth stone of the walls. She began to quickly shimmy up the banner, anxiously straining to hear the creaking of the hanger above the din of the outraged guards gathering below, but it was impossible. She dared not look down, focusing instead on the goal above her; the narrow window slit two feet above the banner.

She felt the hanger giving way towards the end of her climb, and with one final desperate act she crouched low, pulling hard on the banner before springing up, one hand gripping tight against the window sill while the other failed to find purchase on the wall. There she hung, dangling precariously thirteen feet above the ground. With great effort she swung, one foot finding purchase on the cracked hanger. She was careful not to put her weight against it, shifting much of it onto her upper body where she was gripping the window sill, using the narrow platform of the banner hanger as a temporary balance as her free hand searched the wall for a good grip. She glanced momentarily below her, noting the guards attempting to make a makeshift human ladder. It would be some time before they returned with a proper one, and time wasn't on their side.

Finally getting a good grip, she quickly did the same for her feet, kicking her boots off to get a better purchase with her bare feet. Not a moment too soon, as seconds later one of the guards, a young woman of slim build began scaling the banner. Unfortunately for her, the hanger soon gave way, unable to bear the weight of an armored individual. She went crashing down onto the ground, causing Val's normally scowling face to light up in a cheeky grin. All she had to do now was wait the rest of her time out.
 
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Christian didn't flinch as she charged at him, he knew what he would do if she tried anything and it wouldn't end well for her. Fortunately for her she jumped back in an impressive display of acrobatics. The reactions of his guards were understandable, he had designed them and even this room with assassins in mind, but on the regular they knew better than to rush to his defense, he wasn't the one who needed them when things went wrong.

He watched passively as she scaled the banner up to the windowsill. She was very nimble, but again this room, and even the entire keep, was designed with assassins in mind. The windowsills were slanted to prevent any prolonged perching, and the guards were surprisingly agile themselves, having been trained by an assassin.

Their human ladder didn't have to go very high, about four people up the last one braced and laced his fingers together, catching the foot of the next guard and launching him high up the wall where he struck at Valencia, attempting to dislodge her from her slanted roost.

First minute down.
 
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Her eyes widened with shock and she grunted in pain. The next guard to come up actually managed to latch onto her, though he was dangling precariously off her ankle. The sudden extra weight nearly caused her to lose her grip, but with some effort she managed to hold on to the sill. She tried shaking him off in vain, before resorting to more violent means. With the guardsman's extra weight, gravity and his active attempt at dragging her down from her perch, what she attempted next was a testament to her physical capability.

With extraordinary effort, she pushed off from the wall, her back drenched in sweat from the exertion, swinging far out in an arc. She hoped that the initial move would shake her assailant off, otherwise he was going to have a face full of stone soon enough. Right before contact with the wall, she braced. It was going to hurt, but at least she wouldn't be the one concussed. She could feel him tightening his grip on her foot, and for the briefest of moments she worried she might pull her ankle at the strain. Moments later, they met the wall with a resounding smack and clanging of metal, as the guard rattled in his armor before his hold on her loosened and he fell to the ground below.

She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath, but knew she couldn't rest on her laurels. The next guard was already coming up, climbing on his comrades to be launched next. The window was more a long, narrow slit to allow sunlight in, and it would be impossible for her to reach the top with a leap from here without adequate acceleration. The next closest handhold wasn't difficult to reach, but she hesitated to go for it as it would put her directly above the human ladder. Her immediate concern now was to avoid another armored man pulling on her; she wasn't sure her right foot could take much more of that. For now, she had to keep her extremities out of range. It would be a dangerous balancing act, and if she slipped she would plunge headfirst into the floor below, but she was confident in her agility.

With grace she swung herself upwards counterclockwise, the next guard just missing the hem of her skirt and plummeting down into his fellow. She narrowly managed to plant her feet against the stone surface of the wall; had she failed she would've spun a full circle, losing her grip and joining the two guardsmen in a heap below her. She was now upside down. She silently muttered a prayer of thanks to the gods that the skirt of her green dress didn't fall completely over her; it was difficult enough in this position to see through her upturned locks. She couldn't maintain this position long though; while she was once again safe for the moment , blood was rapidly rushing to her head and this exercise either needed to end now or she would have to find a new avenue of escape. The only way, it seemed, was down. She peered towards the mage, trying to make out how much time she had left, silently hoping it was about to be over.
 
Again an impressive display. The Soul Bound were well trained, skilled and fiercely loyal, but they had flaws and he was taking notes, as well as taking note of the flaws in his own court room. Those handholds must have been overlooked.

She remained uncaptured as the last of the sand ran down.
Christian stood up and called out in a loud voice.
"Time is up! Well done Miss Valencia!"
The guards stopped pursuing her and stood by, allowing her to descend and even aiding her should she need it.

He motioned for Keia to follow him and he walked down the dais steps to stand on a level with Valencia.
"Let me tell you what you've accomplished: You've evaded a specialized unit trained to capture and kill assassins. Because of this I forgive you of whatever offense you've incurred and offer you a place in training my men to your level of expertise."
(Forgot that I've not really described him.)
He stood before her and a bit above her with his height, a man in his mid to early twenties with a full head of black hair, an expressive face, a lean build and dressed in fine but functional clothing with only the bare minimum indication of his station as Baron of Stonewatch.

His blue eyes scanned her face and form with an appraising look, but even his expressiveness and his pleased look seemed in the very slightest way forced, because they were all feelings and emotions that he knew how to mimic but never truly felt in his life.
 
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He motioned for Keia to follow him and he walked down the dais steps to stand on a level with Valencia

Keia stood up and followed. The hourglass disappeared and her hand returned to it’s place in front of her. She was impressed with Valencia’s obvious skill. She had evaded, as her master had said, well trained soldiers, trained for this purpose specifically, among other things. So yes, this was indeed most impressive. And Keia let it be shown on her face.

She stood behind and to the left of Christian, or Bruce and observed as Valencia came down. She was definitely nimble, something that she lacked. She could run and she was surprisingly strong for her size, but she was no acrobat. And this woman had proven to be just that.
 
She made her way to ground level with haste, not quite landing on her feet as she teetered on her toes, temporarily unbalanced from the pounding in her head. She began tidying her hair as he spoke, brushing and patting down the mess as well as she could. As soon as the offer left his mouth her eyes sparkled with excitement. Employment, just what she was looking for. She raised her gaze to meet the baron and his witch. He was smiling, seemingly pleased while the witch looked somewhat awed.

An anti-assassination unit...? What more could she teach them anyway? They were very well trained; not exactly the Anirian Guard, but they were pretty good. Still, gaining the patronage of a lord was a good prospect. Usually, she added to herself. Better play it coy though.

"While it is very humbling that you think so highly of me, my lord, I fail to see what a passing traveler like me could teach your men. They're very well trained as far as I can tell."

She was still trying to maintain her alibi, though at this point she didn't think anyone bought it at all. Still, telling a consistent story was the key to a good lie, and she'd keep at it until she was called out. Besides, she didn't know what training he wanted her to teach his men. She'd not crossed blades yet, after all.
 
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"While it is very humbling that you think so highly of me, my lord, I fail to see what a passing traveler like me could teach your men. They're very well trained as far as I can tell."
He gestured to his men that were now filing up, his soul bound warriors.
"You exploited their flaws, as well as the flaws of this room. An assassin would do this and more. Once out of reach an assassin would be in a prime position to shoot me with a crossbow, blowgun, or throwing knife or even pick off the guards one by one.
They are well trained, and you are even more-so. So I would like it if you would accept my invitation."


His slight smirk grew into a smile, "I trained these men myself, so this is either a reflection of my skill or my ability to teach. Either way the way they are now is lacking and you've proven that you do not show the same lack."
He held his arms out at his side with his palms open, "Alternatively, if you truly don't want the position and the responsibilities that come with it, you can defeat me in combat and simply walk away."
 
"While it is very humbling that you think so highly of me, my lord, I fail to see what a passing traveler like me could teach your men. They're very well trained as far as I can tell."

Keia rolled her eyes, she tried to maintain a lie that was fooling no one. But she wasn’t permitted to say anything, so she wouldn’t. She remained kneeling where she was, watching and listening closely to the proceedings, and what her Lord and Master said next was what caught her off guard.

He held his arms out at his side with his palms open, "Alternatively, if you truly don't want the position and the responsibilities that come with it, you can defeat me in combat and simply walk away."

Defeat him in combat? The woman was skilled definitely, but Keia doubted that she could take him on in any way. Keia opened her mouth to ask if such an action was the best course of action, but withheld her voice before it escaped her.
 
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