Private Tales Don't get comfortable

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
The one that was swept off his feet scrambled on the ground to grasp her ankle. With his grip secured, he yanked hard at the assassin, hoping to knock her down. The Immortals were not an absolute, unparalleled force. They were quite skilled, but despite that knew they would not stand a chance without Uvogin.

The captain was attempting to catch up, pushing through the throng of bodies that moved against him.

The two immortals, however, continued trying to subdue Artemis.
 
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And she was dragged to the ground with a soft grunt. Leg kicked out violently, getting the Immortal who gripped her ankle in the face. He let go with a howl of pain. The other one scrambled, trying to tackle her to the ground but she rolled away and quickly bounced back to her feet, sniping one of the immortal's curved swords that had fallen to the ground with her.

Leaving the two Immortals scrambling after her, she set her sights on her primary target and charged forward, swinging the stolen sword. It was risky. Because now she'd have two enemies at her back at the one charging from the front.

By this time, most of the onlookers had scrambled out of the way, some forming a tight circle on the periphery to watch the show.
 
There was something especially painful and stunning about having your own mask smash into your face. The immortal that pulled Artemis down experienced such a pain, and his nose crunched satisfyingly under her boot.

Perhaps it was a desperate move, turning to face Uvogin with the sword. The curved blade flashed under the sun as she swung it. Uvogin deflected the sword's edge off the base of his own weapon before thrusting the point at Artemis' neck. His stance was orthodox, textbook to the point that it left little to no openings.
 
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The tall woman heaved to the side but not before she felt a thin slice along her neck. Crimson dripped from the fresh cut, down the slender curve of her neck before soaking into her dark tunic.

"A pity you're wearing all those clothes," she mused dryly.

The curved sword whipped forward in a feigned strike from his upper left shoulder to his right hip as her dagger hand lunged closer to dig the point into his left ribcage.
 
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As quickly as he thrust the blade forth, he pulled it back. Good, good. It would have been a shame if that testing blow had killed her.

"Then you should have visited my quarters again," he bluntly retorted.

His guard slightly raised as the assassin feinted at his shoulder. It was a convincing feint, and when the trajectory suddenly changed, only the captain's impressive reflexes fended off the attack. With his guard effectively broken, it left his side open. Again relying on his reflexes, Uvogin took one hand off the hilt of his sword to catch her wrist.
 
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His gloves enclosed around her wrist.

"Perhaps I will if you're still breathing after this," she hissed. She was close and inside his guard. The strong afternoon sun beat down upon them mercilessly. The heat didn't deter the small crowd that had gathered. Sweat dripped along her skin, making her tunic between armor stick slightly to her skin.

She imagined he wasn't much more comfortable.

She remembered these days even growing up on a remote seaside island. The Isle of Sorcha was typically cold but they were known to have some brutal summers. It was important all the trainees were exposed to every weather element as part of their training.

Taking advantage of the proximity, she'd suddenly bring up a knee going for the inside of his thighs and on up. The wrist he gripped she would slip free and try to slice the dagger across his face. Time to test the limits of how thick that face covering of his was.
 
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Frankly, it was quite pleasing that the assassin was so beautiful. And face-to-face now, he could clearly see her stunning eyes. It left no room for doubt; this was the same woman that had tried to kill him a week before.

"I would gladly welcome you," he growled back. He could feel beads of sweat roll down his brow.

He had spent a lifetime fighting for his life in the hot, arid land that was Amol-Kalit. He was well accustomed to the sweat and heat. Even then, he wasn't impervious to it.

With a twist of the hips and a pained grunt, he absorbed the hit with the outside of his leg instead of his groin. His head swayed back enough for the knife to glance over his mask. Small sparks flew as metal struck metal. It stunned Uvogin, for a fraction of a second he was rattled under the mask.

As he recovered, Uvogin slashed up with his sword, aiming to cut her from hip-to-shoulder.

If she dashed back to avoid the sudden attack, she would have fallen right into the two Immortals who were now recovered and ready to leap into the fight.
 
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She still held the curved sword and her wrist twisted down, just catching his blow, feeling his strike rattle up the stolen sword. Metal hissed against metal and foot with the knee that had nearly gotten intimate with him slid back. Her dagger wielding hand swiped forward again...only to find her forward momentum suddenly pulled up short as strong arms wrapped around her waist in an attempt to pull her back.

Subdue her.

The other two Immortals.

Artemis lashed out like a cornered animal, showing a ferocity she hadn't quite shown before. Back of her head smashed back into the face-plating of the one behind while he would also suddenly find an elbow rammed against his stomach. She'd swipe her dagger at the second one as he attempted to help his fellow solider.
 
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The two men that tried to grab hold of her, while taking no significant damage, were fought off. Uvogin smirked under his mask, happy to see the composed assassin throw aside her technique to desperately fight.

He approached Artemis, one hand outstretched, and his sword ready to strike the woman down. He wanted her alive, if possible. As she was focused on the two men, he dashed forward and attempted to seize her knife-arm.
 
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Three grown and armored men to fend off would be a feat even for the best assassin in the land. Especially when she no longer had the element of surprise. Or the cover of darkness.

This was a fight she feared she would not win.

As one Immortal was struck down, no lethal blows, the other was on her. As she incapacitated the second, Uvogin was on her. Literally. His fingers found purchase on her wrist again. Her own muscles flexed of that arm, trying to twist free from his grasp.

Perhaps he'd be surprised when her other hand dropped that curved sword and fished inside her pocket to bring out a small pouch which she promptly threw on the ground. It was a trick from a mage, a carved runestone inside that when thrown with force, a plume of dust would suddenly engulf the area.

It was clear she was trying to run. But she wondered if the distraction would be enough. And if she'd be able to twist free from those fingers.
 
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The surprise only made Uvogin tighten his grip. He'd never dealt with any such trickery before, but he was able to surmise her intentions rather quickly.

The masks were designed to not hinder visibility, but could not do so completely. Under normal circumstances, Uvogin could see perfectly out of the eyeholes. These were not normal circumstances. If he wasn't holding her, she would've easily escaped.

He pulled his free arm back and, estimating where she would be by the hold he had on her wrist, swung the pommel of his sword in her general direction.
 
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At the age of two she held a knife. Age of four, she could shoot a bow. They’d been taught when to throw weight against someone and when to go with the flow instead of resisting. She wouldn’t win by tugging against the Captain, even with her height and strength.

So, she went with him. Into his torso. Hoping to knock him off balance. Perhaps flat on his rear. She would be expecting to block the sharp point of his sword. But not the sudden CLONK of the pummel against them side of her head.

There were stars, then blackness. Her body would slump and tumble into his chest. Fleeting thoughts accepted what she assumed would be death. At least it would be an honorable one.
 
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Uvogin caught the woman. Perhaps, as she faded out of consciousness, she would have heard his taunt.

“See you soon.”

Some time passed. Artemis was taken to the western dungeon within the royal palace, a dark, damp place. She was the only prisoner there.

As she stirred, she would find her arms above her head, her wrists shackled and chained to the wall. If she chose, she could stand and even step a few feet away from the wall. The two chains were linked through a single loop in the wall.

Of course, in front of her and unmasked was Uvogin. There were two guards outside the dungeon, though none inside.

As he saw her slowly come to, the captain not-so-lightly pat her cheek.

“There you go. Welcome back.”
 
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Dried blood mingled with silvered hair that feathered freely down the sides of her face and past her shoulders. Hazy-blues sharpened and opened as she felt those rough fingers on her cheek. She winced. Not from the captain's face before her or his hand so close but at her pounding head.

Damn.

Hurt worse than a djinn-sunset hangover.

Back arched slightly, fingers flexing above her head as she tested those chains, hunter's gaze quickly taking in her situation.

"Careful," she finally whispered. Those eyes of hers appraised his form up and down. "You might lose a finger."
 
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A wolfish smirk painted Uvogin’s features. Only a finger? He wanted to give the assassin so much more.

“We finally have a chance to talk,” he took a step back to a safe distance and knelt down to meet her gaze. “I would introduce myself, but that is clearly unnecessary.”

He held up his hand, all the fingers curled save for his thumb and forefinger.

“Two questions: Who are you and who hired you?”
 
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"Oh," lips pressed tightly for a moment, the gleam of a shark in her eyes as she tracked his retreat. "A shame you moved so far away."

Feet pulled up along the ground, knees coming to her chest. Perhaps re-adjusting. Perhaps getting ready to launch to her feet if needed. Imagining her thighs around his neck again brought a spark of energy back to her veins.

"Client confidentiality is important in my line of work. And would you care to know my name if it was the last thing you heard with breath still in your body? Names can be quite expensive and I'm not sure you can afford mine, Captain."
 
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"Well," his eyes glanced over her seated figure, "best to admire a caged animal from a distance, no?"

When was the last time anyone talked like this to him? Though his demeanor was stoic as ever, Uvogin was actually quite thrilled with the woman. Even in chains, she was a wild, feisty thing.

"Do I come off as a poor man? Try me." His smirk widened into a grin. "You would be surprised at what I can afford."
 
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Tongue flicked out, running across her chapped lips.

She gave a flick of her wrists, testing the length she had on them. Perhaps rattling them to rattle his nerves. Limbs offered a sanguine stretch.

"I think I know what you can afford after intimately seeing your chambers." A brief, lioness-grin eased across her face. Foot idly tapped on the ground.

Once. Twice.

"But since cages can be deceptively safe, my dear Captain, perhaps I'll give you a clue to my name."

It wouldn't harm her, nor her guild. And it was evident she didn't think he'd be alive much longer. And perhaps a part of her was enjoying this game - this hunt.

"Have you heard the stories of a goddess from the east; one who was known for tracking prey? Hunting prey? One who knew the wilderness like a bosom friend?"
 
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Wide grin fell back to a small smile as the woman talked on.

A goddess from the east? A huntress, at that? His smile fell to a thin frown. More and more questions rose regarding the woman’s identity, all left unanswered.

“Can you not just make it easy and tell me? You did see me-” he was cut off by a guard that appeared in the cell’s doorway.

“Sir, Gerra requests your presence.”

There was a small pause before Uvogin’s frown grew. “Fine. Watch her.” He met her gaze. “I will see you soon.”

The captain rose and left, leaving Artemis chained there and the guard standing right outside the cell.

From testing the chain earlier, the assassin may have felt that the loop where her chains ran through was weak and liable to break free from the wall. Of course, it was impossible to do so without being detected.
 
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Silvered brows like the color of moonlight lofted as he trailed off.

She certainly had.

Eyes weren't shy about where they strayed as he turned and left. Sure he'd see her soon. On the other end of her whip and dagger. And she did feel that loop.

Weight shifted as she came to her feet, limbs stretching like a cat. Fingers that had killed many a man tightened into fists, gripping the chains that held her cuffs in place as she twisted to face the wall. One booted-foot pressed against the dank, dull stone. Then her other foot as she hung, she leaned out and pulled down with a solid and violent - YANK!

Artemis landed in a crouch, the chain falling behind her as it broke free from the wall. Still gripping the excess, she whipped it forward, through the spaces in the bars, hoping to entrap the guard against those very bars.

If she got that far, she'd squeeze him close until he passed out and very possibly, until she could fish a key from his unconscious body.
 
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The guard couldn't ignore the sudden commotion behind him. Rattling chains, the snap of weak metal and crumbling stone - it had shocked him. He turned as the chain was looped through the bar and around him. As he was suddenly jerked forward, his face smashed against one of the cold, iron bars. His nose audibly crunched against the metal, and the man's body immediately slumped to the floor.

It was the assassin's fortune that it was no Immortal standing guard.

The two guards outside of the dungeons didn't hear the commotion. The keyring was visibly attached to the guard's belt, just within arm's reach.
 
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She let the body slump to the floor and grabbed at the keys.

With a rattle of chains, she was able to unlock her own. Then unlock the cell door. There was a knife on the guard; she took it. Like a silent shadow, she took the rest out with pressure points she'd learned on the island.

She didn't even have time to turn around before their heads hit the floor.

There were a slew of bodies (still breathing) left in the assassin's wake as she made her way of the dungeon and into the freedom of the night air. If the Captain returned, he'd find letters scrawled into the sandy-floor of her cell.

See you soon. -Artemis
 
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Uvogin did, in fact, see her message. He wore a wry smile as he stared down at the name scrawled on the floor. At least it saved him the effort of searching for it himself.

Artemis.

Artemis...


Two weeks passed. Two long weeks of tireless vigilance and anticipation. When would Uvogin see the shimmer of ashen hair, the vibrancy of her eyes that danced like a storm? Even as he swayed on horseback, as the sun beat down on his shoulders, as the heat left him parched, Uvogin thought of the assassin. Of Artemis.

Uvogin and a small retinue traveled with a group of merchants between Annuakat and Ragash. Usually, he and his men would leave it to the companies to guard caravans, but there was no harm in riding with a caravan that schedule matched his own. It had been nearly three days now.

The day was young, and their journey long.
 
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She had two more weeks. TWO weeks and then things would start going very badly. Two weeks to finish the contract on Captain Uvogin or die trying. Or her brethren would make sure the contract was finished. Artemis wore a rusty-sandy colored robe and knelt at the base of the mountains that bumped up against the desert sands. She matched the rocks and earth.

She'd studied where this caravan would go. She knew her best shot would be when they stopped for the night just a hundred yards from where she currently was. Silvered-blue eyes turned away from the spots in the distance she assumed to be the caravan with her dear target among them. Attention shifted to her freshly sharpened weapons. Silvered knives and daggers. Enough weapons to make even a dragon with all its armored scales blush.

She began sliding them into their respective holsters along her body. Leather straps and holders. Perhaps she'd catch the captain when he went to relieve himself.
 
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Uvogin hadn't been too concerned during the day, but some nights he'd lost sleep anticipating Artemis to arrive. He stood guard, weapon by his side, waiting for the huntress to pounce on him. She never came. Night after night, nothing. Had something happened to her, did she give up, was the contract canceled?

Though, he couldn't shake the feeling that the caravan was being watched. Followed. Of course, he had no proof, and it was only his intuition and paranoia that gave him that idea.

Night fell upon the caravan, so the wagons and horses stopped and everyone set up camp while Uvogin and his handful of men set a perimeter. As the others gathered around a fire to eat, Uvogin alone remained by the camp's perimeter. He sat on a rock, metal bowl in hand, and ate in silence.
 
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