Into the water. [Open!]

[Rhindeer]

There was a pool in the temple in which Sahar lived, and it was there that she chose to do her scrying. While it was not the only way in which she could use her gift--fire and glass worked just as well, but there was something pure, cleansing, and calming about water, and she felt connected to it in a way she didn't with the others. Water was in her veins, after all; it was part her and everything else.

Some days, people visited the temple for answers and guidance, and she put her skills to work to, hopefully, set them back on their rightful path. Sometimes, her mother visited her and warned her of the dangers that came with counsel.

You've got a gift, but don't be too free with it, she'd say. It might catch someone's interest, and not in the way you'd hope.

Sahar pretended to understand and didn't ask what she meant, because it made no difference. She was a servant of Hakeshna and she was given this gift for a reason.

It was early morning and the city was waking, and no one had come to the temple yet. But after a rough night's sleep, Sahar had woken early and gone out to the pool to meditate and reflect. She trailed a hand through the water in a spinning motion, causing whirling ripples and scattering the fish swimming beneath, and peered at the shapes the ripples made. But it was just water, no visions for now.

She had no questions to ask for herself; she knew she was on the right path. Besides, the gift did not work that way.

She was still watching the fish, their easy movements lulling her into a calm, relaxed state that was bordering on drowsy, like bed might sound good, when something fleshy landed with an audible plop on her shoulder.

Sahar went rigid and, slowly, turned her head to look.

And found herself staring into the beady eyes of a snake.

Whatever calm tranquility she had been going for shattered in that moment.

With a blood-curdling scream to wake the dead, Sahar jerked to the side as though trying to get away from it--even though it was on her--and, still screaming, smacked at it to dislodge it--

Right as that jerking motion sent her toppling over and into the fountain with a splash.

[Nascent]

S c e n e    M u s i c
Manoria Cathedral Remix
a Chrono Trigger remix by Robotaki

Cordell was a long, long way from the waters of Thanatos, that much was for certain.

For weeks she'd been traveling in disguise in the company of a pack of hired mercenaries -- not the brightest, toughest, or most odor-free lot she'd ever met, but trustworthy enough that she felt herself assured and in charge amongst them. They'd been following the trail of rumors regarding a particular priestess of a particular temple, someone of at least minor fame and more than minor talent in divination, if the rumors were true. And after long roads across the desert in a rickety old wagon...

... they'd finally reached their destination.

With two sell-swords in tow and weapons tucked securely under heavy wastelander robes, Cordell snuck onto the temple grounds. Even at this early hour the temple was not wholly silent; those who served the priests and priestesses were already going about early morning tasks and a handful of faithful were awaiting the day's sacraments. Cordell's group did their best to blend in with the latter; though they must have seemed like ignorant foreigners the locals seemed content to let them pass as long as they feigned reverence. But getting onto the grounds was one thing; getting inside the temple proper to abduct a priestess... now that was going to be tricky.

'Little different than looting treasure.' The pirate captain reassured herself, leading her hired help quietly into cover near the side of the building. This area at least seemed fairly isolated, ideal for plotting their entrance and --

Suddenly, not very far away, someone was screaming bloody murder. Cordell's head whipped around towards the sound; motioning for her brigands to stay unseen, she crept out, using what cover she could find... until at last she came upon a young Essyrni girl -- a priestess, by the looks of her and her clothes -- face down in the water, with a large green snake slithering away from the scene of the "crime". Cordell couldn't help but chuckle a little. And, in a moment of cunning, she realized she could use this to her advantage.

Stepping out of hiding and rushing over, she pulled Sahar from the pool. The girl was soaking wet but seemed okay otherwise; still, Cordell made sure to make a fuss.

"Are you alright, miss? That looked like quite a spill; no broken bones or anythin'?"

[Rhindeer]

Sahar came up sputtering in a most undignified, inelegant manner, pulled up by a pair of arms. For a few seconds, she could hear nothing over the sounds of her own choking and see nothing but the water streaming into her eyes. Her first instinct was to check and be sure the snake was gone--it was a harmless one, sure, but fear didn't always come from a place of reason!--but instead she heard a voice asking if she was okay.

It was a strange voice, an accent she hadn't heard before.

Definitely not one of her fellow priestesses, as she had assumed.

Pushing her braids out of her eyes and sitting on the pool's edge, her waterlogged vision finally cleared and she startled when she was finally able to get a good look at her rescuer.

"Oh!" Her face colored, darkening with a blush, and she averted her eyes in embarrassment. Leave it to her to have an audience, and a stranger at that. "Oh, ah...no. That is--yes, thank you. This one is fine, just a little--well, a lot--wet," she said, voice a little hoarse.

She coughed, reaching up to rub at her nose; more than a little water had gone up it when she'd toppled over. She sniffed, trying to breathe properly again, then twisted to shoot an anxious look at the pool when she remembered the snake. Her heart leaped into her throat.

"Where's the snake? There was a snake here--ah!"

She spotted it, just at the pool's edge on the opposite side. With a yelp, she grabbed onto the woman's arm out of reflex.

[Spinner]

It's not that Idlan was opposed to doing his own dirty work, but rather that he preferred to have others do it for him and to pay them a hefty price in return.

It had been nearly a week since Idlan had arrived in Essyrn. His reasons for traveling such a distance from his home, apart from conducting his regular business, had to do with the temple that seemed to be a central focal point of the city. One month prior to his arrival in the city, Idlan had met with a man who had been involved in regular trade of food and other goods to those who resided within the temple. This man had confirmed previous rumours of a uniqe artifact held within the temple compound.

Upon Idlan's request to simply view the artifact the head Priest had immediately denied him access stating that "Such relics belong to those who dedicate themselves to Hakeshna." Since Idlan was not about to devote his life to an invisible fictional being, he found himself on the hunt for someone who was looking to make a profit.

After a few hours of meeting with several legitimate and underground business contacts, all of which were quickly helpful due to their fear of him, Idlan found himself back at the temple.

As he approached the walls of the temple he spotted what his contacts had described. At first they looked like simple foreigners admiring the temple craftsmanship but Idlan knew better by the look of their skin, the sharp bulges in their clothes, and the impatient, greedy look in their eyes.

"Good Morning." said Idlan with a cold smile, speaking to one of the burliest mercenaries "You seem like exactly what I'm looking for. Who's in charge?"

[Nascent]

Cordell's mercenaries eyed the strange, elaborately dressed man with equal parts suspicion and intrigue... almost as if they could smell the money on him, bloodhounds of fortune that they were. They cast furtive glances at one another, almost seeming to discuss without use of words, their eyes and not-as-subtle-as-they-thought gestures conveying their meanings back and forth. After a few minutes the larger of the two stepped forward, meeting Idlan's gaze.

"Well, that entirely depends. My friend and I are here on a bit of business; if'n it's our current boss you're interested in speakin' wif, then I'd 'ave to ask yer own business..." He leant against the side of the building, gesturing openly with one hand. "However, if'n you have a... proposition for such 'umble gentlemen as yourselves, then you can consider me to be in charge, sir."

---------------------------------------------------------

Cordell wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed by the dripping wet girl clinging to her arm, terrified of a harmless green snake. To be so terrified of some slithering beastie made little more sense to the pirate captain than being scared of a length of rope. Rolling her eyes, she reached down and plucked up a handful of small pebbles from the ground and began tossing them at the emerald serpent.

"I 'eard once that snakes listen t' th' ground -- like most o' th' rest of 'em, their ears are in their belly." And it seemed to be true enough; as the stones struck the ground around it the snake withdrew in a rush, scrambling off as fast as it could glissade and disappearing into the grass. Smiling slightly at her own cleverness, Cordell turned to the young priestess. "There now, th' serpent's gone. All better?"

"I be looking fer one o' th' priestesses, an oracle named Sahar. Dun suppose ye know 'er? I'd be very keep t' speak with 'er if'n ye could help me."

[Rhindeer]

Once the snake was gone, Sahar could breathe again. It was awful, having a fear like that, because she knew it was silly and stupid, and yet she couldn't control her knee-jerk, deep-gut reaction, even though it was embarrassing. Her face colored as, once again, the woman rescued her from the little beast all the way on the other end of the room, the creature quite obviously more scared of them than she was of it.

Knowing that still didn't help.

"Thank you," she said again and, realizing she was clinging to the woman, she began to withdraw. The woman was a little difficult to understand, her accent thick and funny and Common being Sahar's second language, but she got the gist of what she was saying even if she couldn't parse every word.

She did, however, understand enough of the next bit to be mortified.

If Sahar's face had been red before, it was positively burning now. The woman was seeking her, and how should she find her? Oh, you know. Half-drowned in a shallow pool, screaming her fool head off. What a wonderful first impression!

Straightening up and arranging her thin robes into some semblance of neatness, she hid the worst of her embarrassment with an elegant bow, braids falling into her face. She tried to smooth out her expression and will away her blush while she was hidden like that, though it didn't work.

"You've already found her," she said, rising again. "This one is called Sahar. What is it you need?"

[Nascent]

(OOC: Was hoping on another post from Spinner before moving on, but as that doesn't seem likely I'm just gonna forge ahead. Avast me hearties, YO HO! ☠)



Was... this her? This quaking, soggy-haired snake-spooked girl was the gifted seer and oracle?? Cordell had to chew that one over for a minute as the sheer strangeness of it made some of her less-used braincells fire. If this was the talented and divined Sahar, how could she not have foreseen that snake coming to trouble her? And that uncanny (but simple-minded) question begot others: if she could've foreseen the snake she could have foreseen Cordell's arrival and intent, right? So then, was all this an act, a trap? Were temple guards about to spring from hiding and surround her? But then surely a simple lie -- unless these priestesses were forbidden...

... Or this was Sahar, and there was no trap. Which would mean her skills at foresight weren't all that great, if they existed at all. But the rumors! The countless tales she'd heard! What of them?!

Cordell had never before pondered the difficulties of kidnapping someone who could see the future. The truly precarious (though mostly imagined) difficulties of her situation were only just now, now that she was already here, beginning to settle in. Her hands gradually moved to the sides of her head as a brain-frying headache settled in. It had seemed like an easy scheme at first! Now it was suddenly an impossible puzzle!!

"But if... then how... why aren't you... where... when... surely you would've... AAARRRGH!"

Her train of though officially becoming a train wreck, Cordell reflexively switched back to more primitive (and far less subtle) ways of dealing with her problems. In a single deft move she pulled, loaded, and primed a crossbow she'd had hidden under her oversize robe, pointing it at Sahar with a frustrated look on her face. "Flog an' keelhaul it all! I ain't come all this way t' go back empty handed. Future-seein' or no, ye be comin' wit me priestess -- make scene or sound t' alert anyone an' this 'ere bolt'll find a new home in yer left leg." She redirected the crossbow to the aforementioned appendage for emphasis. "Savvy?"

[Spinner]

Cordell's mercenaries eyed the strange, elaborately dressed man with equal parts suspicion and intrigue... almost as if they could smell the money on him, bloodhounds of fortune that they were. They cast furtive glances at one another, almost seeming to discuss without use of words, their eyes and not-as-subtle-as-they-thought gestures conveying their meanings back and forth. After a few minutes the larger of the two stepped forward, meeting Idlan's gaze.

"Well, that entirely depends. My friend and I are here on a bit of business; if'n it's our current boss you're interested in speakin' wif, then I'd 'ave to ask yer own business..." He leant against the side of the building, gesturing openly with one hand. "However, if'n you have a... proposition for such 'umble gentlemen as yourselves, then you can consider me to be in charge, sir."

---------------------------------------------------------

Idlan  considered the man for a moment before speaking. He could recognize a man, or woman, who would get a job done exactly the way he needed it done. Yet something about the men, possibly the desgustingly eager look on their faces, told him he might run into complications by entrusting only them with the task he had in mind.
He mulled it over for a moment. Waiting for their employer likely meant that he would end up paying a larger price, but sending the two men without without their bosses approval could have its own ill effects.


"As a matter of fact I do have a proposition." Said Idlan to the burly mercenary "but I think it best to give it directly your current employer. Wouldn't want them to think I'm stealing you away."

[Rhindeer]

The silence that followed her reveal was uncomfortable and, cringing inwardly, Sahar watched the flow of emotions play across the other woman's face: the disbelief, the confusion, the mounting frustration. She could hardly blame her, and through her embarrassment she felt a flicker of pity for her as she clutched at her head. Should she...say something? Break the awkward silence? Apologize? Ask if she was okay and make sure she wasn't having an embolism?

The woman acted first, and Sahar jolted when her sputtering escalated to a roar followed by a lot of colorful language, spoken too fast and too accented for her to easily understand.

She did, however, understand the crossbow pointed at her, and her blood went cold.

Reflexively, she stumbled backwards and nearly went right back into the fountain when the backs of her knees hit the edge. Instead, she stumbled and landed, sitting, on the rim with a squeak. "W-what?" She had to be joking. She couldn't be serious. But that crossbow sure looked loaded to her. Frantically, she shook her head.

"N...no. You can't--this is a holy temple!" she stammered in disbelief, heart hammering in her chest. She didn't know what to say, or even do, so she grasped at what she could. "You can't defile it thus! And this one cannot leave! Ah, please, peace...put down your weapon. This is a house of Hakeshna."

[Nascent]

(OOC: Glad to have ya back, Spin! ^_^ )


As Sahar stumbled backwards Cordell advanced a step; she knew enough about taking hostages that letting them change the distance between themselves and the threat of force was never a smart move. Her objections were pretty standard fare too. A crazy, maniacal grin gradually made its way onto Cordell's features. "I can, I can, you will, and no, sorry. I dun mean t' be makin' yer life 'ard, priestess, but I 'ave need o' yer gifts." She leaned in slightly.

"But I be tellin' ya what. I like ye, lass. An' when I've no further need o' ye ye'll be released unharmed -- pirate's promise -- so long as ye be a good lil' hostage an' do as I says. Now..."

She raised two fingers to her lips and gave a sharp, short whistle. "It's time we be off."

---------------------------------------

The mercenaries heard the whistle and whipped their heads around, then gave each other a meaningful look before turning their gaze on Idlan with urgency in their eyes. "If'n that's yer choice, here's yer chance! With us then!"

Abandoning pretense, the mercenaries charged from hiding and joined Cordell, throwing off their disguises as they went and brandishing the short swords they'd hidden away. They found their current employer with her crossbow pointed at a half-drenched and clearly terrified young priestess. "This the one?"

"This be her, Schrell." She turned her gaze towards them. "Be geeeeeentle -- I dun want no harm t' come t' the lass, savvy?"

"Long as yer payin', I'm doin'." The mercenary Cordell had referred to as Schrell nodded, pulling a length of rope out and steadily advancing towards Sahar. It was plenty clear he intended to tie her up. "Stay still, lil' bird."

"Alecan, th' signal." Cordell instructed the other sellsword, then cast a glance towards Idlan. "... Dun remember hirin' th' likes o' you."

The merc Alecan stabbed his blade into the dirt and formed a circle with his hands, halfway closing his eyes and chanting something under his breath. Moments later, his fingers burning with arcane light, he lifted his palms to the sky and a bolt of blue fire shot upwards, soaring up and up into the azure expanse. The spell-bolt burst overhead once it reached its zenith, a signal that could easily be seen for miles around. The time for subtlety was officially over -- Sahar's kidnapping was about to go full tilt.

Tossing off her own disguise with her free hand, Cordell revealed herself in true pirate fashion. "I am captain Cordell Ribaldrous Furor the 10^th o' th' ghost ship Red Corsair... and priestess Sahar Nagi, ye be comin' with me." Pulling her large hat out from within her red coat and flicking it back into shape, the young woman pirate placed it proudly onto her head before giving the next order. "Tie her up! We make for th' temple gates with all speed. MOVE!"

[Rhindeer]

OOC: I was going to wait again, but...been 7 days so movin' on! :3


Sahar's world exploded into a whirlwind of chaos, and without meaning to, she shrieked in fright as a group of armed pirates burst onto the scene, and the woman revealed herself as their captain. Being quiet didn't matter at that point, though; these people were creating plenty of noise themselves and, considering that beacon, they wanted the attention.

Either way, it was obvious at this point that there would be no escape, and the woman's assurances were no reassurance, especially when that man whipped out the rope. She briefly considered her chances, and how far she could get if she bolted, and froze when she considered her brothers and sisters and how resistance might endanger them. As though on cue, that was when another priestess rushed onto the scene, though she wisely stayed out of the courtyard.

"Sahar, hang on! The guard's been notified!" she called, and though she poised herself to flee back inside, she glared daggers at the pirates. "You leave her alone!"

"Go back inside, Fatimah!" Sahar said, and with a grimace she held up her hands, wrists together. The last thing she wanted was blood to be shed here, or for any further hostages to be taken. She didn't look at the man--Schrell--as she said under her breath, "Hurry."

Though she was terrified, the thought of remaining here longer and endangering her friends scared her more. If this was in her stars, then so be it.

Everything happened for a reason.

[Nascent]

(OOC: Keepin' it rolling...!)

C h a s e  M u s i c

'Refuge in audacity' was easily Cordell's favorite tactic. Most people clung fast to notions of plausibility, what was and wasn't 'normal'. Pick pockets in a market, stealing food or valuables? Normal. Pirates in a temple, stealing a priestess? Most people would react to such a notion with shocked disbelief, unsure if it was some kind of joke or actual 'stanger-than-fiction' reality. There would be hesitation, the repeated question of 'are you sure it's...'. People are easy to unsettle when you break their routines and paradigms.

That, and a brilliant escape plan, was going to help them get out of here in one piece. Schrell quickly bound the young priestess' hands and then, quite unceremoniously and without warning, grabbed her around the waist with one meaty arm and hefted her up onto his shoulder like Sahar was some mere sack of potatoes. Cordell cast the man a disapproving glare but didn't say anything; that was the way with mercenaries, after all. You could tell them what to do, but tell them how to do it and you'd stir up nothing but trouble.

Cordell turned towards Idlan. "I dun know yer business, landy, but if'n it be important ye can tag along. If not, I've got a kidnappin' to run so ye'd best scuttle off."

And without further ado, following Cordell's example the group broke into a run for the entrance. A few shaken up servants and temple neophytes tried to get in their way, demanding the group stop, but none of them were armed -- it was a temple, after all, not a barracks. Each interloper was shoved roughly aside, some into bushes or up against walls but most just flat on their bums. All the while Cordell wore a devious, gleeful smile on her face, clearly enjoying this bit of mayhem she was involved in.

And then suddenly the entrance was in sight... and so was a squad of guards, six strong. Outnumbered two to one the pirate captain didn't even slow down, letting loose a crazy laugh as she grabbed and threw something from one of the pockets of her overcoat. The odd roundish object clattered to the stones at the guards' feet before suddenly exploding, erupting into a billowing cloud of thick gray smoke. As one of the guards in the front tried to scramble out of the haze Cordell jumped up and kicked him in the face, sending him back into the smokescreen and, apparently, into one or two other bodies behind him.

"Straight on through!"

The pirate and her hired help, with poor Sahar still in tow, ran straight on into the cloud, only slowing down to dodge past or strike a blow against the guards as they went; moments later they were on the other side and rushing out the temple entrance gates, terrified onlookers watching in disbelief.

But there was a problem. Cordell grit her teeth, eyes sweeping up the road. Their getaway wagon should have been here by now! Spinning around, she saw the smoke beginning to dissipate and the guards regrouping. Without their ride this was going to turn into a stand-up fight... and no doubt there were reinforcements coming.

"Schrell, protect th' hostage. Alecan, use whatever magic'll buy us th' most time." With the sound of steel sliding against steel Cordell drew her cutlass, holding it reverse-grip in her right hand and nimbly switching the still-loaded crossbow to her left. "Th' rest o' th' lads 'ad better get 'ere soon."

[Rhindeer]

Sahar yelped when she was slung over the man's shoulder, and she didn't approve of where he placed his hand, but she said nothing as her captors made a run for it. In fact, she couldn't speak, not with the mercenary's shoulder jabbing into her with every bouncing step and driving the breath out of her. It hurt, it was uncomfortable--and it was annoying.

Slowly, the absolute horror she'd felt at first began to transform into downright indignation as the ridiculousness of the situation sank in. Her, a servant of God, kidnapped by pirates of all things and slung around like luggage! Plucked straight out of a holy place, before Hakeshna's very eyes!, and taken to be used for whatever criminal schemes they had in mind!

Really, how dare they?

And how dare they think she'd actually participate! How dare they think she'd actually use a holy God-given gift for such corruption! No, perhaps this was indeed a test given to her by Hakeshna, as a new priestess, to test her mettle and purity, for if she used her gift for bad, even under pressure, what kind of servant was she?

Sahar grit her teeth and tried to adjust herself on the man's shoulder, but with her hands bound it was difficult, so after a moment she painfully resigned herself and tried to watch her surroundings--also difficult to do upside-down. She heard yells and commands, the sounds of weapons being drawn, and smoke stung her eyes before it began to clear. Pushing against the man's back and lifting up as much as she could, she saw the guards coming and she brightened hopefully.

The pirates were trapped.

The guards rushed the small group, one coming at Schrell, who had drawn his own cutlass and was wielding it one-handedly, with expert precision. In an effort to make things more difficult for him, Sahar squirmed in earnest, kicking at his chest and beating at his back.

"Let go!"

[Nascent]

"Alecan, any time now! Make with th' magic already!!" Cordell bellowed as she did her best to hold off two sword-wielding guards at the same time. Schrell, clearly displeased by Sahar's kicking and screaming, was trying to do the same as more and more guards began pouring onto the scene. First it was a mere handful... but if this kept up they'd be hopelessly outnumbered in no time.

And then suddenly, from somewhere behind the pirates, a sound like rock crunching against rock could be heard accompanied by a low, unearthly sound like a long, deep groan. A shadow fell over the group, almost as tall as a house, and suddenly all of the fighting stopped. Alecan was nowhere to be seen, but in his place, looming at easily twice the height of the tallest guard, was an animate pile of stone in roughly the shape of a person glaring menacingly down at all assembled. There was no mistaking the hulking visage of a stone golemn, a terrible creation of magic against which swords and spears were virtually useless.

When it roared -- a horrible sound not unlike a landslide -- the face of every guard went utterly pale. Some dropped their weapons as they ran, but all ran one way or another, leaving Cordell, Schrell, and Sahar gazing up at the monstrosity that had come practically out of nowhere.

"Ye can stop now, if'n ye like." Cordell smirked, her sword-hand resting on her hip.

With everyone else in sight frightened off, the golemn began to dissolve quietly into dust, blowing away in the wind until there was nothing left -- nothing but Alecan standing on the very spot that the creature had been, a pleased grin on his face. "Gets em' every time, that one. Well," he admitted with a shrug. "Almost every time."

"An well need more o' yer magic tricks before we're done." Cordell assured him, looking up the road and sheathing her blade. "But fer now, everyone get ready t' jump."

Tearing down the road at breakneck speed, its twin horses galloping at a terrible pace, came a small traveling wagon -- Cordell's "getaway car". The driver, clearly another of the mercenary band, slowed but didn't stop as he approached the temple entrance. This would be another 'straight on through' move for the kidnappers, it seemed; as the wagon got close Cordell and Alecan grabbed hold of the sides and hung on, with Schrell doing the same with one hand and the other tossing Sahar into the wagon itself. Fortunately, wherever the mercs had stolen the wagon from seemed to have a supply of hay as well -- the priestess would still find her landing rather unpleasant, but of no real harm.

The three scoundrels swung themselves up into the cart as the wagon picked up speed again, the driver urging the horses on as fast as they could go. Buildings flew by and people quite nearly got ran over in the kidnappers' haste. No sooner was everyone in -- Schrell keeping an eye on their hostage and sticking close to her in case she got any ideas -- than Alecan was once again chanting a magic spell. Soon the wagon was surrounded in a faint haze of light, the unlawful mage seating himself cross-legged with eyes half closed so as to focus on his casting.

"So this's what it's like inside one o' yer illusions, eh?" Cordell asked in mild amusement. As per their plan the wagon was now disguised by magic, taking on an appearance just different enough that no one would be too suspicious: specifically, an Essyrni prison wagon, complete with a walled-in cage in the back to conceal the passengers. Alecan didn't reply, focused entirely on his illusion -- or trying to, in spite of the jostling and bouncing of the wagon.

They were really going to pull it off. Cordell grinned. Now they just had to make it to the coast.

[Rhindeer]

Sahar finally got a reprieve, small as it was, when she landed in the wagon. She didn't exactly land soft; hay was far from soft and it poked right through the thin, sheer material of her clothing. But it was better than landing on solid wood, and better than constantly getting jabbed in the gut by a shoulder.

Wild eyed, she scrambled backwards and wedged her back into a corner of the wagon where she stared at Schrell and the others with distrust. Even though she hadn't done any running herself, she panted for breath, partly because she'd gotten it knocked out so many times and partly out of panic. This was a lot to take in! First getting kidnapped, then swept into the midst of a battle, then towered over by a stone golem, then tossed into a wagon...

She felt like a sack of potatoes.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she glared at Cordell. "Better turn the wagon around," she said, voice smaller than intended. "This one will not help you. No matter what. This gift is not for you. You're wasting your time."

[Nascent]

(OOC: Sorry it took me over a month to reply; didn't mean for it to take that long, things simply got away from me for a while. v_v;; )



"Yer right."

The unexpected confession from the brazen pirate woman made her two henchmen do a double-take; when they saw the serious expression -- not entirely devoid of empathy but by no means soft either -- that she had fixed Sahar with, however, they deliberately looked away. "It's not fer me, lass. An' just maybe I am wastin' me time; if'n that be so, it be so." She sheathed her weaponry, steadying herself with a firm grim on the wagon's edge... and a firmer gaze on the captive priestess. "But this 'ere wagon ain't turnin' round, priestess. So settle in," Cordell leaned back somewhat. "We've got a ride ahead of us."

The wagon drove on, its pace tapering off somewhat once they were well enough away from the temple. When at last they reached the edge of the city the kidnappers abandoned their transport and hopped on another wagon that had apparently been prepared ahead of time, this one with a covered back, twin Kaadir, and all the extra bracing and reinforcement needed for travel beyond the city's walls. Cordell must've also bribed the gate guards, for they passed through without incident.

"Now then..." The red-haired pirate fished around in her coat pockets, at length drawing out a map. She conferred with her hired help, pointing out a route from the city that led east to the coast. "I've marked out th' best route t' th' ship. We be headin' fer a bay at th' edge o' th' Kishahn Jungle; once there I'll take th' priestess aboard an' you lot'll get th' rest o' yer payment. We'll 'ave t' blend wit' th' merchant wagons 'til we get 'ere, then it be a straight shot t' th' sea, 'bout ten days if'n we make good time."

"Biggest threat be patrols along th' way -- they'll be lookin' fer 'er, make no mistake. We make no camp t'night 'till th' horses be worn down; further we get from Essyrn th' better. If'n there's trouble along th' way we'll rely on Alecan's illusions first, an' if'n that don't work we'll use force. More stir we make from 'ere on in, easier it'll be fer th' army t' find us. Best we just blend, savvy?"

All were in agreement (save Sahar, of course), and the wagon rode on. The heat of the Moraki Desert was no pleasant thing, with dry winds driving across the sandy expanses and depositing golden grit wherever they pleased. In the distance thunderclouds rumbled, splotches of dark clouds near the horizon staining an otherwise crystal blue sky. Occasionally the rattle of other wagons could be heard by the passengers, just enough to suggest they were -- as Cordell had said -- along a merchant route going eastward. The dry, blisteringly hot hours passed at what seemed a snail's pace.

Finally, nightfall came... and with it, an entirely different face to the desert. The air became chill, such that breath misted visibly in the air. The sound of night prowlers -- the chittering, bemused laugh of jackals and the hunting roar of lionesses -- echoed distantly in the dark, hinting that the desert was not so empty as it seemed. Lamp light dimly illumined the cabin of the wagon, Sahar's captors taking turns watching her.

It seemed forever before they finally stopped and made camp. A fire was set with what little dry brush could be found and a portion of the wood and hay that the wagon had been hauling. Loaves of bread, bags of salted nuts and dried fruits, blankets, and water were distributed as a pair of tents were set up. Sahar was kept tied up to the wagon while camp was made; at length, Cordell approached with food, water skin, and blanket in hand.

"I'm gonna untie ya, okay? Just dun go runnin' off -- desert'll eatcha alive at night on yer own, from what I hear." She put down what she had in her arms and began working on the knot. "That... an' I figure we need t' talk. Y' got a right t' know what this's all about, after all."

[Rhindeer]

[OOC: omfg I'm sorry this took so long! DDD8]

By the time they got to their destination, Sahar was freezing. Tied up as she was, in only her sheer robes...well, there was really no way to keep warm like that. With her hands tied together, she did her best to curl up, knees to her chest, and arms looped around her knees, in the hopes of holding in some body heat. Maybe it did a little good, but she couldn't tell; her hands and feet were soon numb, her nose felt frozen, her bottom ached from sitting and her legs longed to be stretched, and her teeth chattered with her shivering.

And it felt even worse after the day spent out in the blistering heat.

Huddled in on herself, she listened to the clamor around her and watched as best as she could. She hadn't slept during the trip, even though she was exhausted. She had been too miserable to try, and too scared to give in, anyway. Out beyond Essyrn with a gang of bandits...Hakeshna help her.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the pirate woman appeared, blankets and provisions in hand.

Sahar stared at her a moment, long and hard. And then, fighting against her anxiety, she glared at the woman, tossed her head, and looked away. It was difficult to appear bold and fearless while her teeth were chattering and she was huddled up in a bed of straw, but she gave it her best attempt.

"This one has nothing to say to you," she said, even while every part of her wanted to beg for those blankets, for water and food, for the woman to hurry up and get that rope off of her. She hoped the quaver in her voice was interpreted as being from the cold and not from, you know, having been kidnapped by rogues and taken to Hakeshna only knew where, out beyond the safety of Essyrn and into completely new territory.

[Nascent]

"Kay then, fine."

Reaching down with one hand whilst holding her bundle with the other the pirate captain drew forth a slim dagger and walked up behind Sahar. The ropes fell to the sand and she was free to move once again; promptly Cordell, with a huff of annoyance, tossed a blanket over the priestess' head and dropped the provisions down alongside for Sahar to retrieve when and if she chose. "Ye dun' 'ave t' say anythin', priestess. I gets that y' hate me. I gets it, believe ye. I mean," And at this Cordell dropped her own blanket onto the sands and sat upon it, uncorking a flask she pulled from within her long coat. "I did just kidnap y' from yer temple, at point 'o threat, an' drag ye out into this bitter-cold wasteland. Y' got ev'ry right t' be hatin' me... but ye ain't asked yerself th' one crucial question yet, 'ave ye?"

She took a swig. "Why would a pirate need a priestess?"

The criminal woman sighed and stowed her drink, then began pulling off her boots and emptying them of sand. "D'ya want t' take a guess? Cuz, truth be, were I in yer shoes it weren't t' make much sense t' me then, either. I mean, we pirates care about gold. Treasure! Loot an' plunder an' such. An' I know, I know... yer thinking I wants t' use yer talent t' find some-such legendary haul or what 'ave ye. Truth is yer only 'alf right."

She leaned forward, eyes on Sahar, fixing her with a gaze full of purpose and meaning. "What matters most t' people, lass? That's th' question! A one'd sell all his earthly possessions if'n he could, in exchange, be made sound in body -- never be sick, never suffer... never grow old an' die. What, failing that, eh? What else would any sod with a lick o' sense an' a mind fer beyond th' given moment be willin' t' trade anythin', any wealth or influence t' secure fer themselves, if'n they believed they could 'ave it? Ask yerself that."

"Why does a pirate seek out a priestess? Why does anyone seek out a priestess?" And Cordell sat, waiting for the other young woman to respond.

[Rhindeer]

Freed wrists and a blanket plopped over her head were one way to break the haughty, stubborn act. Sahar dragged the blanket off of her face and was quick to wrap it around as much of her body as it would cover, not caring how desperate that looked, because Hakeshna help her it was cold! She rubbed her hands together beneath the blanket and felt at her wrists. Only a little chaffed from her initial squirming, but not bad.

She didn't look at the pirate as she spoke, but she was listening. Instead, when she got a little feeling back in her hands, she started to dig through the provisions until she found a water skin, from which she drank deeply, not realizing the intensity of her thirst until she started.

The pirate woman had just wrapped up speaking when Sahar put the skin away and wiped off her chin, and it was only then that she finally looked at the woman. She fixed her gaze firmly on her and gave her her best flat, unrelenting stare, hoping she at least looked fearless.

"Pirates are also liars and thieves. And you are heathens besides. Why should this one believe anything you have to say?" she said at last, maintaining the same stiffly formal language she used whenever conducting temple business with visitors.

She looked away again, staring out across the desert, and folded her arms. "Truly if you believed anything you are telling this one, you would have sought her services honestly and in good faith."

[Nascent]

She tried to hold it back. Heavens and seas, she tried. Sahar would be able to see it all across her face, cheeks turning red and eyes screwed shut.

All for naught.

"BHWAHAHAHAHAAAAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAhaaaa...!"

Cordell's unbridled laughter drew the attention of the two mercenaries; with tears in her eyes and a stupid grin on her face she waved them off and the two sellswords went back to what they were doing. The pirate wiped her eyes, still chuckling.

"Yer seriously naive, ain'tcha?" She laughed a bit more. "Y' just said, in th' selfsame breath, that I should'a just come'n asked ya, AN' that we pirates're all lyin' thievin' heathens." She stood up and looked at imaginary people, putting on an act. "Oh pleeeease mister guard sir, I knows I'm a dity ol' pirate girl an' ye's under orders t' lock th' like o' me up, but I jus' REEEEEEAAALY need t' see that there famous future-seein' priestess about somethin'. Pleeeeeasssee...?" She paused, casting a sideways glance at Sahar with a look that said 'I'm not that stupid' before spinning a full 360 on her heel and plopping back down.

"Bein' a pirate ain't about lyin' and thievin', priestess -- them's just tools in th' arsenal. No," She leaned forward and pointed at herself with one hand's thumb. "A pirate, lass, is someone who'll do whatever it takes. We dun' 'ave th' benefits o' an understandin', supportive society t' help us along -- that's why we're pirates, not shopkeepers. Because we chose t' fight our lot in life rather than succumb t' it, t' make a stand fer ourselves when no one else would. We're survivors. An' if'n that means we gotta be vultures an' hyenas in th' process, so be it. That's th' way o' it."

"But even th' worst o' pirates don't be deservin' what me crew's been through." Her voice and gaze dropped. "Lemme tell ya a story, priestess. An if'n I be lyin'... well, y'll know in due time."

"Fer this..." She leaned even further forward, voice just above a whisper. "The th' tale o' me ship."

"Th' Red Corsair."



M U S I C A L  S H I F T


And so Cordell told Sahar the tale of the mighty ship with blood-red sails and jet-black hull. She spoke of how it pillaged the coastline of Thanatos hundreds of years ago, preying on any unwary craft to cross its path and a great many ports that had treasures ripe for taking. She spoke of a ruthless and terrible man, the ships captain of long ago, and how those who sailed under him did so forever in fear of him.

The pirate told the priestess of a passenger to a mysterious island -- a witch brimming with dark magic's power. Of how fear and paranoia brought down blood... and a terrible curse.

" 'You who struck me down in fear an' greed, evermore shall you tarry upon th' watery wastes. Bound in service t' masters you shall not choose, t' continue in death th' work unfinished.' " Cordell quoted. "That be th' curse, as inscribed 'pon th' very deck o' me ship -- th' witch's parting 'gift' after she was betrayed. Th' Red Corsair's had her share o' captains 'afore me, t' be sure..."

Cordell looked at the distant horizon, seeing the stars gleam against the night-blackened sands. "I was but a child when they found me, shipwrecked. Th' ship chose me, even then, t' shepard it's twenty-two souls. Dunno why. I 'ad 'em turn right back 'round an' head fer me home, but wasn't nobody left t' return t'. Father'd drowned in th' storm an' mum'd... well," Her gaze travelled down, full of meaning and burden.

"Couldn't cope."

"I know, it's absurd." The pirate woman sighed heavily and leaned back, staring at Sahar. "Raised by ghost pirates, o' all things. But e'ry one o' them sods is kin t' me -- some like brothers, some like fathers. They's all deserve peace, lass. Peace at last."

She fixed Sahar with a steady gaze. "D'ya understand where I'm goin' with all this, then?"