Open Chronicles The Bounty

A roleplay open for anyone to join
"No, neither is it my concern. I will bring you to them, then I don't care about what happens to you." He says bluntly and without emotion. "Are you done replenishing yourself?"
 
"For the moment. Why? Are you in a rush? You said that I had an hour..." She wanted more time than that, yet she doubted she'd even be granted the full hour.

"I need to relieve myself." Myrcella got to her feet. "If you'd be so kind as to afford me a small moment of privacy in the bushes over there, I'd greatly appreciate it." The request was genuine. She had a shy bladder and would hate to ruin her dress, not to mention get all wet.
 
He nodded to a small dip in the ground a few feet in the opposite direction. He also pulled from his quiver his bow and the blunted arrow he had retrieved. "Go there. If you run you will regret it."

His threat was genuine. The dip was fairly isolated so if she tried to run, he would see her. But the dip itself was deep enough to provide ample privacy.
 
"Thank you..."

She took notice of the weapons drawn, but didn't comment on it. Instead she walked over to the dip and went inside, crouching. She gathered up the folds of her dress and glanced over her shoulder to be sure that he wasn't looking before she continued.

Moments later she was finished. Before she got up however, she grabbed a handful of small rocks and hid her hand out of view before she came back out of the dip.

Myrcella stopped in her tracks once she heard the sounds of horses in the distance. Instead of looking to the sounds, she looked to the bounty hunter to see what he would do.
 
He too heard the horses, his response was to drop the blunted arrow and replace it with a lethal one. He beckoned her over, a command not a request, and bound her hands behind her as he had before, this time staking the rope to the ground to keep her there.

Then he would leave the small camp and listen carefully. The horses were coming from the direction of the house. He drew the bow back, and prepared to fire.
 
Myrcella kept her hands clenched into fists as she walked over to him. She huffed as he bound her hands behind her again.

The arrows were different. She saw that. If she ran he'd surely use them on her. Unless she timed it correctly.

Two riders approached. Myrcella recognized them right away. "JON! FREEMAN! LOOKOUT!!" She pulled on the rope, but it was difficult as her hands were behind her. She hoped that her cries would help them spot the danger straight away. She crouched down, lettimg go of the rocks so that she could grab hold of the stake that kept her captive and tried to pry it loose.
 
One of the riders was choking on an arrow before she cried out. The arrow had flown with near perfect accuracy, catching him in the throat. The next arrow whizzed it's way to the second man not five seconds later, taking him in the chest.

He looked back at his captive to see that she had gotten loose of the stake. He ran swiftly to the nearest horse and mounted it. Then he put it to a gallop, gaining on his escaped quarry before picking her up by the back of her dress and pulling her onto the horse.

"Bad decision." He says before striking her over the head with his fist.
 
As Myrcella watched two of her father's men die, she pulled on the stake even more so. Finally it came loose! She then turned and ran. It was all that she could do while her hands were still tied.

The sounds of hoofbeats caused her heart to pound even faster. It didn't take long for him to catch up. "NO NO NO NO NO!!" Myrcella was yanked off of her feet and pulled onto the horse. As she turned her head to look up at the hunter, he struck her head with his fist. Stars exploded in her vision, yet she remained conscious. Tears streamed down her face as hope began to fade. Freeman and Jon were dead. And now since they were on horseback, they could travel much faster to their destination, leaving it harder for her family to find her. The bodies at least would give some clue. But still, the odds weren't in her favour.
 
He turned around and returned to the second horse. He then picked her up and undid her bonds. He put her on the second horse and tied her hands in front of the horse's neck to keep her subdued. Then he tore eight pieces of cloth from the clothes of the deceased and tied them around the horses' hooves to obscure tracks. He mounted, took the reigns of the second horse and continued onward.

"You are quick girl, but not very clever." He says. "Next time you run, it will be something much worse than my fist that strikes you."
 
Well at least now she was more comfortable. Although she was basically hugging the horse's neck, at least she was on her own horse instead of laying across one on her stomach.

"You can't blame me for trying..." And she did try. Myrcella was doing everything that she cpuld think of. But it wasn't as though she had gone through this before. She closed her eyes as she rested her head against the horse.

Oh how she hated the bounty hunter. If she could, she'd kick him where it'd hurt the most and then spit on him. But that was all just wishful thinking.
 
He knew that she hated him, and he didn't care. He began to think. If she was so wilful, why was she not taught the things necessary to at least resist this properly. She was doing what the inexperienced and untrained did. She wasn't smart about it. It was strange.
 
She watched the hooves of the horse as it walked. Suddenly she had an idea. It was crazy and probably wouldn't work for long, but she had to try for the slim chance that it would work.

"Forgive me for this..." Myrcella whispered to the horse before biting into it's neck. The horse reared up and kicked, leaving her thankful that she was tied onto it. She then kicked at the hunter with her foot that was closest to him and tried to get him to let go of the reigns so that she could make another break for it.
 
His horse backed away from the other in panic, forcing him to loosen his grip on the reigns. But that also meant that her kick missed. He let go of the reigns and pulled out his bow to shoot the horse as it ran. He caught it in the leg, it was made lame.

He approached the runaway and dismounted. He drew his dagger and struck her on the temple hard enough to cause unconsciousness. After that he took another length of rawhide and tied her ankles together. He threw her over the back of the horse still fit for travel and mounted behind her.

He continued on.
 
For a moment it worked. Her little plan worked! But as her horse was struck by the arrow, the small joy that she had disappeared.

The hunter caught up with them quickly. And as she saw him raise the dagger high to hit her with the hilt, all that she could do was hold her breath and shut her eyes tight. As expected she was knocked out cold.

A while later she came to, her head throbbing. Was she bleeding too? She wasn't certain. The wetness that she felt could just be sweat. Myrcella took notice of her ankles being bound, as well as her wrists. Now how was she going to escape? Roll?

She lifted her head up slightly to look at him. Didn't he ever sleep? How much further did they have to go? At least she wasn't walking.
 
"The next time you try escaping I'll drag you by your hair the rest of the way." He threatens when seeing her move. It was roughly midday by then and they had travelled a good distance from the house he had taken her from.

After another hour and a half he stopped to let the horse rest. He took her over to a young oak tree, it's trunk almost as thick as he was, and bound her hands behind it. Whether she would stand or sit was up to her.

He got a small fire going to cook some of his rations for his daily meal. She was not fed.
 
"This is not the way to treat a lady..." No, Myrcella was used to much better treatment. This was the real world, however, and it was far more dangerous than her family's estate could ever be.

She chose to sit after he tied her to the tree, drawing her knees up so that she could rest her head on them. Again she was hungry, and again she was thirsty. But once she tried to picture whatever horrible people that she was being taken to, she lost her appetite.

"Don't you ever sleep?"
 
"Not as much as you do, give me a day and a half and no sleep will come to me. Besides, when I sleep, I make sure that the 'cargo' that I am transporting will have no chance of escape. Unless they want to strangle themselves on rawhide."

He doesn't look at her while he speaks. He knew that he would need to sleep eventually, and he already had a solution, not necessarily the best but it had worked before.
 
He wasn't looking at her. Well that was good. It was also good to hear that he was planning on sleeping. The words he had uttered gave her the impression that he was going to somehow bind her with her neck. Myrcella didn't want that.

She twisted one of her wrists to see if she could slip it free, but the rope wouldn't give her any slack. Her head still pounded anyways, so she didn't want to exert herself right now.

"Can you read me the letter that sent you after me?" Maybe there was a clue in there somewhere for her.
 
"I've already looked through it for clues of the client's identity, but the only thing that could include such a thing was a symbol that my most trusted sources were unable to identify."

He shows her said symbol, it was a simple spiral with a sword going through it. "The rest is just instructions for my mission, bag you and bring you to the marked location.
 
Myrcella looked up, quite surprised that she was allowed to see the letter. Yet here he was, letting her take a look. She furrowed her brows while she focused on the symbol. "I've never seen that one before. So I couldn't possibly know them or have done anything to--" She stopped speaking, instead finishing off the thought in her mind. What if her Father had done something to them? Maybe in battle or something else? Perhaps she was being taken out of revenge. But she was the middle child.

None of this situation had made any sense.

"How long have you been in this line of work?"
 
"Basically my entire life." He tells her. "Now get some rest. We move out in an hour."

He returned to the fire and kept tending to the food cooking there. If he was being honest, he didn't know why she was the target either. He had come up with a couple theories, one of which was vengeance, but then why wasn't he sent to bag one of the others, the eldest or youngest or to just straight up kill all three. Perhaps it was financial? From what he gathered, the family was rich, maybe they wanted to ransom her? But that was none of his business, he had a job to do.
 
"Well....you're very good..." Not like she had any experience otherwise, but his tone was less harsh than before, and she was hoping to keep it that way. Compliments could help with that.

A proper rest wasn't something that she knew she'd be allowed to get. Myrcella didn't want to be tied up. Instead she'd rather just curl up on her side. Well truthfully she'd rather be in her own bed, but she knew that would never happen.

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she rested her forehead on her knees and closed her eyes. Maybe she'd be lucky and would be able to sleep afterall? She could only hope.
 
His voice was indeed less harsh than before. Despite what he was doing, he was not a monster, he was still human, a hard heart that should be softer. But he always put the mission first, he always focused on the objective.

He didn't need nor want to be cruel, however he would do what was necessary. He continued to think as he stoked the fire. His mind trying to work out his client's motives and objectives. He wasn't very successful though.
 
It was quiet, and the quiet was helpful. She was worn out. Myrcella was sore and uncomfortable, but she was still worn out. And that made her fall asleep.

It wasn't a restful slumber either. She only drempt of being chased and that caused her to jerk herself awake. It was no dream. She wasn't at home.

Myrcella's tears started to fall as she tucked her head on her knees again.
 
An hour passed, and before long the fire was doused and she was again loaded onto the horse. She would notice that his harshness had lost its edge, it was still there no question, but it didn't seem as intense as before. She was loaded onto the horse with her hands tied behind her and stomach down.

After another three hours of cantering an hour until dusk they stopped again in a small indent between two hills. He took her into this indent, from which a wicker tree grew and bound her there in a way that wasn't quite creative but effective. He took a length of rawhide and wrapped it twice around her neck, then he tied to the tree, any resistance would be met with pressure on her throat, and her head was too close to the trunk to slip out of it.

When she was secured he went to cut their cover. He hacked several berry bushes from their roots and made a sort of shelter for them that looked like a bush clump. He also set a decoy fire half a mile to the south of their position.

After that he returned to the little shelter he had made for them and sat a few feet from her, too far to be kicked, but close enough to respond to any issues. He was a light sleeper, a side effect from several life threatening situations, and would be able to respond to the noisy young woman.
 
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