Private Tales King's Champion

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"O- heh- okay," he shrugged and smirked at her. "If you intend to see the next day, I would suggest practicing a more open-minded approach."

In Luslec's life, there was no shortage of opportunities where pandering to others got him out of tight situations. Admittedly, he liked this woman. She was rough and all-around unpleasant, but he liked her. And, she was his best chance to make it through this mess.

The half-elf didn't fail to notice the assortment of greens left on her plate.

"Are you going to finish that?"
 
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Once again he’s get that famous assassin’s steadying and weighing look. As if she was imagining killing him several different ways. A slow, feline blink at his next question.

She quickly stabbed a roasted brussel sprout and popped it in her mouth. One finger extended to shove the plate across the distance between them. Chewing and swallowing with that same weighing look she finally said, “Now I’m done.”

A part of herself wanted to drown everything in the tankard of ale along the tables and die a somewhat happy drunk.

Too bad she’d just made an alliance.

“Would you care to offer any other unasked for advice?”
 
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"Worry not," he chirped with a sagely nod, "When the times comes, I'll be sure to volunteer my wisdom to you."

He took her plate, stacking it onto his empty one, slowly finishing off her scraps. How many of these prisoners would lose their nerve once the fighting started? Which ones would freeze at the first sight of blood? There couldn't have been many actual fighters.

"Say," his tone lacked its usual playful lilt, "How come you know so much about what we're getting into?"

Not that he was complaining. The man spoke out of curiosity.
 
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One moment her fork was in her hand and the next moment it disappeared as she smoothly tucked it inside the folds of her clothes. Not an ideal weapon but better than nothing. Unfortunately, the guards hadn’t been dumb enough to leave out knives.

Artemis sat unusually still. Back straight. Aware of those around them and ready. Even as her attention shifted to Luslec. Again, weighing his words. Weighing those subtle shifts in his golden eyes.

It’s not like she was part of a guild anymore. She was no longer under any vow of silence. And she had to wonder what code of honor she would live by now. If any.

“I was...am an assassin. Born and raised with the guild. There are several different ways I could kill you, with that plate alone.”

Eyes sparkled like the sun hitting granite. Still. It was hard to tell if she was joking or not.
 
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Luslec held her gaze for a while and let her last comment settle. His demeanor was grim and serious. Then, as abruptly as it could have, the stoic facade dropped, and he raised his hands and shoulders and leaned back, feigning terror.

"Ooh," he mockingly exclaimed, "Scary!"

It was clear that if the half-elf feared anything, it wasn't death by her hand.

His hands fell to rest atop the table, and he leaned over them with a sigh. "So, what, you're familiar with this place, then? You know, well, roughly where we are... you know this place isn't keen to outsiders, nor are they fond of magic."

Luslec raised a hand to his scarred ear and pinched his earlobe. There was a small hole there. Petty bastards even took his jewelry. "What do they do to those that use magic?"
 
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Fingers twitched where they rested on the table. Did he know how close she was to clawing that mocking gaze right off his face? Arms crossed beneath her chest and she leaned back as he leaned forward. Her posture stiff. But her voice remained low. Even.

Controlled.

Her profession was all about control and she'd be damned if his worming beneath her skin made her slip her hold on that. She could flay him later.

"No, there's a place just Northwest of here that doesn't put up with magic. Here," a small frown. "I don't know. Why?" Arms uncrossed and she went to pick a piece of non-existent lint from her tunic. "Am I in the presence of a wizard?" Her tone was drier than the autumn leaves that had long fallen and were crushed near to dust on the ground outside.
 
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"Yes!" The half-elf beamed, his crow's feet showing mirth from watching her stiffen at his words. "I am the Grand Maester of the College of Elbion!" He spoke in an over-exaggerated posh accent. Was there even such a thing as Grand Maester? Luslec hadn't ever stepped a foot in the college. If he so wished, he could vividly recall standing in the muddy streets far, far below the college, only able to gaze up at the esteemed place.

Of course, he didn't wish to remember Elbion. Not even for a second.

Luslec snickered and shrugged it off. "Merely curious," he flatly commented.

He got the information he wanted. It was nice to know that if push came to shove, he may be able to get away with flourishing a trick or two.

At that moment, the repetitive ringing of a bell silenced the hall. Several more guards poured in from the door, their boots chaotically rumbling against the floor; many were armed with clubs. The swords that dangled at their sides dared the prisoners to make a bold move.

"Up with all of ye!" A guard with a shiny pin over his breast barked out. "Move along, nice an' orderly!"

Luslec warily met Artemis' gaze and only stood after her. He closely followed the assassin, cautiously twisting his head around to assess the other prisoners that surrounded him.
 
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A mildly amused loft of her dark brows laced with silver at his magician...display. Narrowing of eyes at the elf that was becoming an itch beneath her scarred and tattooed skin. But her attention shifted away from him to the others as they filed out. A few of the orcs leered down at her. Most were just skinny, ratty-looking prisoners. Slaves.

All would be forced to fight in the morning. To kill. Her jaw clenched.

There was barely a scrap of honor to be found in a free-for-all. Especially when a majority of them were slaves and not trained fighters. Slender fingers clenched at her sides. But that didn't mean she would hesitate the next day. Not when survival was on the line.

They were lead down the hall and into a large room, nearly as big as the room they'd just eaten in. Bunks, three tiers high went six rows deep and wide.

"Try and get some sleep," sneered a guard near Artemis. "Sweet dreams of your deaths tomorrow," he chuckled darkly and Artemis' fingers tightened around the fork she'd slipped up her sleeve. She wanted badly to push it through his throat. It would be so easy.

But she forced her fingers to relax, spying a pair of bunks near a wall. She nodded at them to Luslec.
 
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Effort and hard work. Those were two things that Luslec possibly hated above all else. If he could grasp everything in the world without breaking a single sweat, he would do so without a second thought. That being said, if he knew that he would be thrust into a bloody free-for-all, he would've liked to prepare for it. Out of many of the prisoners there, he seemed among the healthiest. Underfed, yes, but swinging a pick over his head and pulling carts of ore had done its part in preventing him from withering away completely.

"Well," he quietly chimed, looking at the bunk. He climbed to the top bunk. "Don't mind if I do."

Perhaps it was her instinct as an assassin to have picked out a bunk near the corner of the room, where at least they weren't surrounded. Just the thought of being stuck in the middle of the large room sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.

His legs dangled over the edge of his bunk, and he scanned the room as the prisoners slowly settled in as much as they could. Maybe he would actually die tomorrow. It would be nice to at least have a woman one last time. Luslec glanced down at Artemis.

Well, there were things even he wouldn't dare to suggest.

The half-elf sighed and brought his legs up onto the thin mattress and laid on his back.
 
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She crawled silently into the bottom bunk, having to duck considerably. They were low and she was tall. Stretching out, she turned on her side with her back to the wall. The room was lined with guards. Any of the prisoners would be foolish to try something now. Unless they wanted a death before the deaths tomorrow.

The guards, apparently, wanted to keep the chattel alive for the show.

One hand went beneath the pillow. A pillow she didn't want to think about how many heads had touched it before hers. Fingers gripped the fork she'd swiped tightly beneath it.

Couldn't turn off the instincts.

An eye up to the bottom of the weighted mattress above her.

Goddess help her.

"Get some sleep," she rumbled. "I'll take the first few hours. You take the second." More of an order versus a suggestion of a watch and she wondered if he'd comply.
 
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"Needn't ask twice," he mumbled in response and, unlike her, shifted in his mattress until he comfortably drifted to sleep.

Despite the circumstances, he wasn't worried. She was straight-laced. Prideful. If anyone was going to slit his throat as he slept, it won't be anyone that gets past her. Well, if anyone did, not like Luslec would have the ability to worry about it. Still, with the lioness keeping watch below, he was able to get much-needed rest.

The time to switch came much sooner than the slumbering half-elf would have liked. A rough prod from below woke him. He leaned over the bunk to look down at her.

"Already?" He whispered.
 
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"Yes," she whispered and climbed silently up onto the top mattress with him. Which was a testament in of itself considering the age and creaking wood of these beds. She didn't sleeping below. She didn't know his fighting skills yet. Didn't know his reaction times and didnt know what his magical was capable of. He'd alluded to having some back at dinner.

A very direct nodge with his hand at his arm. A silent motion of her chin downward. Her intention was clear. She was sleeping up here while he kept watch down there.
 
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Luslec frowned and scooted towards the edge. "You needn't be so uncouth about it," he mumbled and quietly climbed down. For a while, he sat on the bottom bunk before bringing his legs up to the mattress to lay down, staring directly above. He kept himself occupied with thinking but about nothing in particular. Old friends, exciting memories... anything to pass the time between the occasional peek at their surroundings.

He would've liked to play a round or two of cards.
 
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Artemis hid a small smirk as her eyes closed. And she drifted off. It wasn't until the guards banged the outer door to their inner room open that she woke.

"UPUP UP! You lot will be dropped in the arena today. Come on, let's go!"

Pushing herself up, she dangled her long legs over the bunk and took the short drop down. Gray-eyes captured those of Luslec for a moment. He'd done his job last night. She hadn't been shanked. Perhaps he could be trusted.

"You look like you need a drink," she commented dryly. Trying for humor but most likely failing. Small talk. Humor. Those weren't her forte. Hands went to her waist, fingers brushing where her phantom knives used to be.
 
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"Maybe I'll buy a drink if I live through today," Luslec crawled out from the bottom bunk and stretched for a moment before falling in at Artemis' side as she began to trail the crowd that slowly poured out of the room. "For both of us."

The half-elf rubbed his eyes as they shuffled through stone corridors and eventually lined up in a hallway before a room. Slowly, the line progressed. As Artemis and Luslec entered, they were greeted by a spacious armory with weapons of all sorts. From orthodox weapons that soldiers would be accustomed to, to more... exotic tools a gladiator may use. Several guards stood in the room, and only a handful of prisoners were allowed in at a time.

Meeting the amazon's gaze, Luslec shrugged and broke off to gather what he needed. He returned with a short sword dangling from his waist and a dark padded coat. A pair of knives hung opposite his sword, and he held a spear in his left hand.

He gave Artemis a once-over and sighed. "Ready when you are, I suppose."
 
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She found a jacket of her own. And it fit. Two bandoliers of knives were strapped across her body and she snatched a whip, securing it to a belt at her hip. It was going to be a bloodbath. Shoulders set.

Moon-like eyes flickered to Luslec.

A sharp, quick nod to let him know she was ready too. A fierce, small smile curving briefly on her usually stoic lips. They were then escorted around a massive curved structure. It had to be a stadium. Sets of prisoners were stopped at different entrances, prodded to remain still until they were shoved inside, with doors sealing behind them. With a sharp, shove she was prodded forward as a guard went to halt Luslec at a door. They were being separated.

Art gave a small shake of her head, glancing back at the elf. She wanted him to keep his mouth shut. She didn't if he’d listen to her though.

Don’t draw attention, she silently pleaded as she gave him a ‘look’ before she was prodded in the back to keep moving. They would have to find each other in the arena.