Private Tales Mission Failed

[Qieane Andieln]

Qieane didn’t like being in Nurum, but money was money. It wasn’t often that the thief was hired for any sort of job that involved espionage, but this was one of them. And it was an opportunity to find a new career, one that paid better for her services than the freelance jobs she’d taken for the last few decades.

There was something distinctly degrading, having to dress in a slave’s garb. The clothes felt dirtier, grimier than her usual leathers, but elves were most commonly present as slaves, and it was hard not to notice the albino elf, especially given that the fact that she was without her cloak.

As always, she was intoxicated. There was no way to get around her alcoholism; she was a fuck up, and she knew it. The woman shuffled through the crowds, seemingly. Her mission was to swipe a tome from one of the city’s libraries and it seemed to be a simple enough task. She just had to pass for a slave to someone important.

With the swagger of a scoundrel, the thief made her way into the library, mingling among others carrying out tasks as she moved through the building. She clung to the shadows. Slinking like a cat when necessary and ensuring she went unseen. She reached the back rooms, where she was startled to find the doors vaulted. Her employer assured her that it would be a simple task, that he simply couldn’t go into the place himself. And yet here she was, now with a predicament. Her hand slipped to her side, reaching into an opening in her rags to secure a pouch of tools.

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

Legatus Dimitrius Tirtius of the VI Legion. Strategist, soldier, thinker, and conqueror of the northern tribes. His name carried a lot of weight, and he was even a candidate for Consul, but most likely he'd be a Preator, head of law regarding civil and foreign policies, as well as criminal law. It wasn't often that he had time to himself, for himself.

He had always been busy, doing something to further the goals of Nurum and it's people, or conquering tribes outside of the country's influence and enslaving it's people. It was the rare day that he had no active assignments, and he hated them.

But there wasn't anyone to complain too, and really nothing that was worth complaining about. He was just bored. So he had decided to visit the bathhouse and scrub off the filth of the battlefield. Before dressing in his lorica musculata (muscled chestplate) and his calf-length, blood red cape. His Caligae, sandal-boots, struck the streets of the city as he strode restlessly.

Looking about he found himself in front of the pillared face of the city's biggest library. With a sigh he walked up the steps, reading something might do him some good. Maybe he'd review the strategies and teachings of his great grandfather's great grandfather Quintus Tirtius, and sharpen his mind for strategy.

He grabbed a book, and was about to sit when he heard someone cry out, "stop thief!"

His attention was instantly caught, a crime. Finally something exciting, he might get to do something today after all. His eyes roamed the room and he spied an albino elf, a book in her hands, chased by guards. He too have chase, though most likely she'd be out of the library before he could catch her.

Qieane Andieln

 

[Qieane Andieln]

“Stop thief!”

The words rang out just as Qieane snared the book, honestly believing she’d go unnoticed. It was a foolish thought, made worse by the fact that the item was held by the library in such a way that she had to use amateur tactics to achieve her goal. Taking a step back, the woman lifted her gaze. Her head swam, her tongue ached for another drop of whiskey.

“Fuck,” she whispered sharply under her breath, and she ran. She darted between those that attempted to stop her, feinting and ducking to ensure that she slipped through their grip. It was almost awe-inspiring how agile she was, for a woman that reeked of booze. It was hard to hide the smell that wafted around her as she wove her way out of the library, barely skirting past Dimitrius.

The elf didn’t stop to look at him, she didn’t have time to. Not if she was going to get away with the tome. She was unfamiliar with the city, and that put her at a disadvantage. Qieane considered whether she should try blending into the crowd as she ran, but ultimately, she knew that shadows would serve her better.

She took a sudden turn down an alleyway, with no idea where it would take her. If the elf could find an alcove or an abandoned building, she might have a chance. Darkness began to creep across the sky as she found a smaller alley branching from the one, she turned down. She ducked into it and pressed her back to the wall, breathing heavily and struggling to keep quiet.

Qieane shoved the tome into a satchel she wore and closed her eyes, waiting to discover her fate.

Dimitrius Tirtius

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

She zipped past and he ran after. She was agile and fast, and while he was not quite as fast as she was, the amount of marching and training and experience he had gave him nearly unlimited stamina. So while she slowly, slowly got further ahead of him, he ran without tiring despite the armor on him. His feet struck the paved streets of Nurum as he chased the woman smelling of alcohol, maybe her drunkenness would make her easier to catch.

She took a sudden turn down an alleyway, with no idea where it would take her. If the elf could find an alcove or an abandoned building, she might have a chance. Darkness began to creep across the sky as she found a smaller alley branching from the one, she turned down. She ducked into it and pressed her back to the wall, breathing heavily and struggling to keep quiet.

Qieane shoved the tome into a satchel she wore and closed her eyes, waiting to discover her fate.

He walked into the alleyway, the light away failing but not gone. He drew his gladius, and stalked forward, and sniffed. The smell of booze was what gave away that she was still here, and he knew to look for her when the smell got stronger. Eventually, after a minute of poking around her found her, pressed against a wall and itch her eyes closed. He put the tip of his gladius against her throat. “You run, you die.”

 

[Qieane Andieln]

It had been a long time since Qieane last felt the cool metal of a blade against her throat. A rush of adrenaline flooded her body, and a lopsided smirk widened her mouth, curling it at the corners.

“And what makes you think I’m afraid of death?” the thief spat, crimson eyes opening to fix on his. “What’s stopping me from grabbing you by the balls, twisting them, and fleeing? You think a blade will do that?”

Qieane didn’t have anything anymore; she was a vagrant wanderer, having abandoned her group of thieves. She was a selfish, hateful woman—but she hadn’t always been that way.

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

It had been a long time since Qieane last felt the cool metal of a blade against her throat. A rush of adrenaline flooded her body, and a lopsided smirk widened her mouth, curling it at the corners.

“And what makes you think I’m afraid of death?” the thief spat, crimson eyes opening to fix on his. “What’s stopping me from grabbing you by the balls, twisting them, and fleeing? You think a blade will do that?”

Qieane didn’t have anything anymore; she was a vagrant wanderer, having abandoned her group of thieves. She was a selfish, hateful woman—but she hadn’t always been that way.

His sword flashed, and the satchel dropped, it’s strap having been cut by the sharp blade of his gladius. Its tip wasn’t away from her throat for more than a second, returning to her windpipe almost as soon as it had left. “Do you really think that is wise?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. He grabbed her by her arm and threw her to the ground harshly, facedown before placing his knee on her back. He removed the rope that acted as her belt from her waist and swiftly bound both of her hands behind her. After that he pulled her to her feet and picked up the satchel. Once in the street, he called a patrol over, and they took her to the prison. And he brought the book back to the library before reviewing the crime. Firstly she entered the city without permission or announcement, which was enough for a few years of prison, then she stole city property, which as an invader made her an enemy of the state. There were three viable verdicts, life in prison, slavery or death by crucifixion.

He knew which one was most profitable of the three, and that was his judgement.

 

[Qieane Andieln]

Qieane choked on her words the moment the man flung her around, and when she went down, her face hit the ground harder than she expected. She heard the crunch of her nose as it hit rock and twisted to the side, cartilage snapping beneath the force of his shove. For a moment, she though he might pull her shoulder’s out of her sockets, but then she was back on her feet, blood trickling down her face. The crimson fluid was bright against her pale skin. She snorted, a wicked, inebriated grin spreading across her lips.

“You must love being such a sack of shit that you throw people around,” the woman spat, stumbling along. As they entered the prison, her gaze swept the area. She was calculating her escape. As Dimitrius began the booking process, the elf took her chances.

She spun around suddenly with unexpected force to tear free of his grip, and then she was fleeing again, only this time the odds were stacked against her.

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

She spun around suddenly with unexpected force to tear free of his grip, and then she was fleeing again, only this time the odds were stacked against her.

She was able to escape his grip, but he had an extra pair of soldiers with him, and they stood between her and the door, and her arms were bound behind her so she couldn’t punch them. They had been ready for this, and their two huge, rectangular shields created a wall between her and her exit. If she kept going, she’d be bashed by one of the soldier’s shields, if she tried to go someplace else to escape, Dimitrius would intercept her with a fist to her face.

The two soldiers seized her by the arms, and she was dragged to a vacant cell. It was what one would usually expect from a cell, a windowless stone room with a single door of iron bars. She would wait there until he came for her the following day.

She would hear his strides around mid afternoon, as he approached her cell. He would stop in front of the door, in his hand was a band of steel with a simple hinge on one side, it looked like an oversized manacle. He gestured for the guard to unlock the door, and he stepped inside. The guard followed him in and gripped the woman by her arms, anencephaly forced her to the ground. Her hair was grabbed harshly and yanked up before the feeling of cold metal looped her neck, and clicked shut. Then her hands were bound and she was pulled to her feet, and a short chain was attached to the collar that looped her neck and she was pulled along behind him.

“Tell me, was a book worth this?”

 

[Qieane Andieln]

“I don’t know, is it? Do you enjoy throwing women around?” she sneered, resisting the guards. She turned around, prepared to dart once more before she felt Dimitrius’s fist connect with face. Qieane swore, feeling her jaw crack under the force of the blow. She went down, and when her head was tugged back by her hair and the collar slapped around her though, she laughed.

It was the wrong time to laugh, and even Qieane didn’t know why the mirth bubbled out of her. She jerked her shoulder as he dragged her along the corridors, taking her somewhere else. The elf was sober, hungry, hungover, and already feeling the first fingers of withdrawal creeping into her. Fatigue, fever, nausea, it came in waves.

Qieane cut her eyes sideways to look at him. “I bet you’re a pig.”

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

“I don’t know, is it? Do you enjoy throwing women around?” she sneered, resisting the guards. She turned around, prepared to dart once more before she felt Dimitrius’s fist connect with face. Qieane swore, feeling her jaw crack under the force of the blow. She went down, and when her head was tugged back by her hair and the collar slapped around her though, she laughed.

It was the wrong time to laugh, and even Qieane didn’t know why the mirth bubbled out of her. She jerked her shoulder as he dragged her along the corridors, taking her somewhere else. The elf was sober, hungry, hungover, and already feeling the first fingers of withdrawal creeping into her. Fatigue, fever, nausea, it came in waves.

Qieane cut her eyes sideways to look at him. “I bet you’re a pig.”

She laughed? She was either insane or the results of her drunkenness wearing off were far more severe than he had anticipated they would be. It didn’t much matter. She was to be put to work, and if she were to continue to resist, the punishments would get increasingly worse as her insubordination continued.

She said something, something rather offensive but not something that really affected him, she was scum, now she was a slave, she was simply beneath him, unfit to judge him on anything. So he remained silent and yanked her along. They approached a horse, with a stirrupless saddle, he attached the chain-leash to the saddle then mounted the horse. She’d walk along or be dragged along.

It took almost the rest of the day, the sun approached the western horizon as they approached a Castra, a large, square fort of stone walls.

Inside was basically an established town, but it was meant to be a military installation only, on the frontier of the city’s borders, ready to push outward. This was to the west of the city, which was now out of sight. She was brought inside and brought to a wide, low building, which was his home in the Castra. She was brought in and set down in a chair and he spoke. “Let me be clear to you. Because of your crimes your freedom, your life, is now forfeit. You belonged to the city, and now you belong to me. If you want any chance at earning your freedom, you will do as I instruct.”

 

[Qieane Andieln]

“I’ll sooner die,” Qieane responded coldly. She’d vomited several times along the way and her body was bruised and battered; when she got sick, she ended up being dragged. Blood caked her body, and in some places the wounds appeared deep.

Qieane was crazy though, and that was part of why her band of thieves dispersed. She remembered laying with Sloan on a bed of glass, lost in the throes of passion as she betrayed Renzo. Being dragged along the ground wasn’t unlike that, in a way.

Her gaze swept that room and she rose to her feet suddenly, but rather than attempt to flee again, the elf charged Dimitrius, throwing herself at him forcefully. The woman intended to knock him to the ground and straddle him, even as her arms remained bound behind her.

“If you think you can break me that easily, you’ll find you’re sorely mistaken,” she hissed venomously. She ducked down then, seeking to tear a chunk of his flesh away with her teeth.

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

She charged him, unexpectedly. He didn’t react in time for him to prevent her from straddling him. But he was not so slow as to allow her to bite him. Ash she ducked down a fist came harshly across her face, and she was thrown off of him. He grabbed the leash and basically picked her up by it, and said directly into her face. “Try that again and I’ll leave you out in the stockade naked for the soldiers to enjoy. I’m offering you a chance to earn your freedom. You will do as I tell you whether you want to or not, if you are willing to carry out the tasks I give you without insubordination or resistance, I might just set you free. Continue to resist and you will spend the rest of your days with that collar around your neck. Your choice.”

He set her back down in the chair. “Now, are you going to listen, or are you still going to resist?”

 

[Qieane Andieln]

Qieane’s head twisted to the side, blood pooling in her mouth as her cheek busted against her teeth. Her chest heaved, ragged gasps for air leaving her chest wheezing. Those red eyes flashed hatefully, then a red spray of saliva left her mouth as she spit at his face. She made no further attempt to stand to her feet though; she wasn’t sure her body could handle any more abuse right now.

“Spoken like a man who can’t get it up himself anymore,” the thief growled, her stomach twisting into knots. Bile rose in her throat, and she trembled in the chair. It wasn’t fear though; every detail about the elf’s body language was defiant. It was the unexpected detox that sickened her.

“Can’t get off on beating women yourself, so you’ve gotta lock them up and watch others have their way. Tsk. Bet you ain’t got no heir either, or a wife for that matter. Pathetic.” It was all she could do, sling insults at him. She was trying to goad him into striking her again.

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

He sighed, this woman was either stupid or a masochist. No early he wouldn’t be surprised if she were both. So he didn’t bother responding, he just shook his head in annoyance, and he approached her again. “Very well then.”

She hadn’t attacked him this time, at least not physically, so he didn’t really have to put her in the stockade as he had threatened. But something told him that if he were to not do it she wouldn’t take his threats seriously, even if this threat was of no particular issue to her. He honestly expected her to enjoy being there, even if he did make good on his threat. But, better to show her he was serious.

He would drag her by her chain out of the building and set her up as he had threatened until the following evening. When he would return to her.

 

[Qieane Andieln]

That may have been his intent, but Qieane was bound and determined not to go. She waited, appearing to have given up by all appearances. When he reached to pull her by that chain again, the woman suddenly swung a long leg upward, hooking it around the metal links. She wound her leg up under it before suddenly ripping her leg back with enough force to pull the chain free. It sent her backwards, knocking both elf and chair over as she rolled along the ground.

Qieane moved fast, grateful that even though she had a nasty addiction to booze, she’d stayed active and fit. She contorted her body with the nimbleness of a performer and stretched back slightly, working her bound hands underneath her and then bending her legs at an awkward angle as she looped her arms back up and in front of her.

Her fingers curled around the chain, untangling it from herself as she stood to her feet. The chain swayed in her grasp, her gaze darting toward the door then back to Dimitrius.

“You really don’t know how to handle a woman,” she panted. The elf adjusted her grip on the chain, ready to swing it like a whip if the need arose.

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

He sighed, “You really don’t know how the real world works.”

He donned his helmet, expecting a fight to remember, and while a chain would hurt, it wasn’t lethal unless he was strangled. He drew his sword, and stepped forward, had he his shield with him she’d stand much less of a chance of winning this fight, but he didn’t, so her chances were better.

He advanced, and he waited for the collar’s enchantment to kick in, how did it work again? An electric shock he thought, they were often used on unruly slaves. But he didn’t quite recall how to activate it, he advanced to fight as he struggled to remember, it would take a few minutes before he did. Plenty of time to fight.

 

[Qieane Andieln]

Qieane watched as he approached, considering her options. She knew she was more than capable of fighting the man, and if it meant he killed her, then so be it. The elf didn’t have anything left worth living for. And perhaps that was why she’d taken this job, particularly. She took a single step back, her back finding the wall behind her.

“I think I’ve got a fair idea of how it works,” the elf replied, but she didn’t appear to be afraid of him. A cocky smirk curled the corners of her mouth upward, almost as if she were continuing to dare him. “But you want your men to do your dirty work, and I don’t work for cowards.”

She remained there, back to the wall and vermilion eyes watching him. “You don’t like being challenged by fodder you deem less than you. And you’re not the first man to beat me.”

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

More than capable, doubtful. Capable? Possibly. But her cockiness and overconfidence was what told him that she was not so much a threat as she wanted to appear. He advanced further. “My dirty work you say? Tell me, would you prefer that I do it myself, they would have to finish quickly so that others might have a turn, but me alone, I can take my time. Which do you prefer?”

Of course, he had little intention of doing that, he had brought her here so that she might serve him as a scout or spy in an attempt to earn her freedom. But now even that option was slipping away.

He continued to approach. As the chain was attached to her collar, it was a dangerous thing for her to use as a weapon. First opportunity he saw he’d grab hold of it and use his superior strength to throw her over his shoulder to the ground.

“If you weren’t so violent I wouldn’t need to beat you. I had an offer to make, a deal so that you might earn your freedom back, all you had to do was listen.”

 

[Qieane Andieln]

“And all you had to do was treat me like a living, breathing creature. There’s a reason your species is always at war with everyone around them: you can’t even tolerate yourselves. Gods forbid you take a moment to step back and realize that maybe you’re the problem,” the thief hissed. “One abuser is easier to handle than many, so if I had to choose whether I was going to be used by you or your men, I’m going to choose you. A thief doesn’t have loyalties to anyone but themselves. In that regard, we’re no better than devils and a little quid-pro-quo goes a long way.”

Qieane kept her hands curled tightly around the chain. She was a thief by trade, an alcoholic in body, and an anti-authoritarian in mind and soul. A criminal, yes. Violent? No. She might have been afraid, if it weren’t for the fact that Renzo beat her so many times before anyone realized what he was doing to her behind closed doors. It was also the real reason behind why she ended up taking control of their band.

If he wanted to kill her, he would have. If he wanted to torture her, he wouldn’t be trying to scare her into obeying him. What she didn’t expect was for him to make an excuse for himself. He needed to deflect guilt still, and therein was a difference between the two driven into reality by the fact he clearly didn’t know better.

“Not all crimes merit the same punishment. I ran because I would rather be dead than a slave. You want something, and let’s face it: if you weren’t there, I would have gotten away long before you arrived. Clearly, the issue here is that you have no regard for those you consider to be slaves. And this city has a habit of ensuring that most of its non-human populace is exactly that. Beasts of burden that must be broken, stripped of their humanity—a funny, human-centric word for that—so that they no longer have any pleasures in life.

“Death is a much better choice. If you don’t kill me, I will do the job myself. Your mistake is thinking I have a will to live.”

 

[Dimitrius Tirtius]

"No, not all crimes merit the same punishment, however, you compounded a couple of crimes. You avoided the city's entrance tax, a federal offence worth ten years, which is still open to all species, elves included. If I weren't there, you'd have been stopped by the city guard before long, and they wouldn't have given you the opportunity to come quietly. The reason my species is always at war is because war is what we do, most predators hunt, we go to war. Had you been less aggressive then 'abuse' would not have occurred. And we consider them slaves because they lost, Vae Victis, woe to the vanquished. They warred with us, and they lost, so instead of a mass butchering we decided to spare their lives, as far as no regard goes, I was under no obligation to purchase you from the city, I could have left you there to be bought by a politician for his amusement. I had no intention of using you as you say. And we have ways for slaves to earn their freedom, and after that, citizenship. Being a slave is not so hopeless as you like to think." He answered. Then the memory came to him, and he snapped his fingers, immediately a harsh shock ran from her collar into her body. The problem isn't that I have no regard, but rather that you are unwilling to work for what you want, believing that everything is owed to you. You say you have loyalty to yourself and noone else, then do what you need to to earn your freedom, then you can drown yourself in alcohol all you wish."