A Chance Encounter [Magnus Aurelius / Amorellia]

[Magnus Aurelius]

Life for an Orc wasn't exactly the easiest of things. On the one hand, growing up on the Orcish Plains amongst the Tribes usually meant days and nights of constant struggle. Not that there wasn't enough food or water, but generally because to an Orc, a fistfight was akin to a conversation. They'd fight over who got to eat first, they'd fight over who got the best seats around a campfire, they'd fight for the right to set their tents where they wanted. To be strong wasn't a virtue to the Orcish people, it was the only virtue. That being said, with age and experience, one could come to understand that there were good points about growing up on the Plains. For example, Orcs didn't care about anything except strength. It didn't matter if you were the child of a Warchief, or a slave. It didn't matter if you were a man or a woman. It didn't even matter if you were something between the two. If you could hold your own in a fight and stand proud at the end, you were worthy in the eyes of the Orcish Tribes. On the other hand, if you were weak, or relied on others, you were more than likely going to either be abandoned in the night, or beaten to death eventually...

Ruthlok Gur'Rannmarr hadn't set foot in the Orcish Plains in well over a decade. The last time she'd been there, she'd gotten into a fight with one of the Elders of the Truumsh Clan. Normally that wouldn't be a problem in most places, but Orcs were notorious for holding grudges, going so far as to track them through generations. And well, after she decapitated the Elder as a part of her contract, she had a good idea that her name and face wouldn't be welcome in that corner of the world for... Well, ever. Still, it wasn't as if she were homesick. She'd left her tribe when she was barely a woman, nothing to her name but her axe and a horse. Originally, her plan had been to travel south, to the Dwarven lands, where the Guilds could give her all kinds of work. She'd had ideas of learning a trade, like Smithing, or Armouring... Whether it was by the guidance of the spirits or ancestors, she'd somehow ended up on the far eastern end of the Plains instead, wandering into the Free Cities of Wesslia.

Wesslia was a large island nation that was situated between the western and eastern continents. It was a meeting grounds between the Dwarven and Orcish lands to the west, and the Human Kingdoms and the Elven lands to the east. It was a rare and strange place where all of the major races of the world mixed, culturally, socially and economically. On the one hand, Wesslia was a mess politically, with each race holding loyalties and ties to their homelands, whereas economically it was a powerhouse of trade. It was said that for every copper that passed through the hands of a Human in their Kingdoms, a dozen gold passed through the hands of a shop in Wesslia. Each city could see a different cultural influence, where some were more open and spread out, akin to the Tribes of the Orcish Plain, there were others that were built in forests, with great buildings that looked as if they'd been sculpted from living trees. There were some cities, particularly along the coast, that were sprawling with buildings that stood tall and proud, walls and fortifications that surrounded citadels with armed guards patrolling every street. Only the Dwarven influence was missing from most of Wesslia, with only a few Forge Cities being founded in the history of the lands.

While Ruthlok had originally left her home to learn a trade, she found that her powerful frame, her quick reflexes and her ability to be hit in the jaw a lot and keep standing, made her an excellent fit for mercenary work. It didn't hurt that she made a reputation for herself within her first week by getting into a fight and splitting a man from head to groin in a single blow of her greataxe. Good times... Still, she spent many years travelling, being paid to hit people, steal from people, kill people, talk to people, deliver things, protect people, and just about anything else someone with an average imagination could picture. There wasn't a whole lot that she could think that she hadn't done, though she was certain that she would be surprised at some point by a request. At the moment, she was on a job, or rather, on her way back to report in. She'd been asked to deliver a package to Midham, in the Kingdom of Renvan. She was on her way back to Emkalyah on the eastern edge of Wesslia, and had decided follow the trade routes south, into the Hyr Sovereignty, before travelling west. Unfortunately for her, the day had gotten away from her and she had decided to make camp.

Ruthlok had made a small ways away from the road, into the tree line. She knew that on the road, there was an amazing view of the valley that held the small trade town of Ineman, though it was perhaps a day's walk from there. She herself wasn't too fond of heights, and preferred the protection that the trees gave. Both from the elements and from prying eyes. She'd dug out a small firepit and after a bit of grinding and clacking of flintstone, gotten a small fire going. A small tent set up between two young trees and a bedroll laid out, and she was more than happy with what she had.

A head taller than most Humans, and half again as broad in the shoulders, Ruthlok was an intimidating sight to most. Her hair was pitch black, her temples shaved, though the top was long enough for her to pull it back into a loosely tied braid that fell down to her shoulders behind her. Her eyes were dark, but in the light, if someone were looking they'd see that they were the kind of blue that the ocean showed on a stormy day. Full, dark green lips were pierced by two tusks on either side of her mouth, and a strong nose sniffed at the smoke of the fire. Normally she wore a metal breastplate, alone with steel bracers on each arm, but at the moment, her armour was laid out beside her bedroll. She wore a rather tight shirt that had been dyed brown. Over the tip was a leather tunic that came down past her hips and part way down her thighs. Tan, hide pants clung to her muscular legs and met with thigh-high boots made of sturdy leather. Her sleeves were torn, leaving her arms exposed from the bicep down, giving a clear view to anyone who would look at the musculature of the woman, as well as the occasional scar that dotted her flesh here and there. Some would have been bold enough to say she was an attractive woman, for an Orc, though she had the look and air of a warrior before that of a woman.

She sat down by her camp and idly considered removing her boots. She'd been walking for days, and only had a day to rest in Midham before leaving once more. The long marches didn't bother her too much, but eventually she liked to kick back and relax. She decided that once she was paid, she'd spend a week at the Opal Bathouse in Keatharireth; the finest bathouse and brothel in eastern Wesslia. Ancestors knew that she could use some rest and relaxation...

 

[Amorellia]

Half-lidded, bright emerald eyes listlessly gazed through the glass at the landscape as it slowly meandered by. A quick huff sent a few errant strands of strawberry-blonde hair away from the girl's face as they encroached on her vision. 'So boring...' the youth mused wordlessly, her elbow propped up on the door with her chin resting in her palm, her unenthused face just a few inches from the window of the carriage. She leaned up and slowly exhaled, fogging up a cloud on the glass that she scribbled in with her free hand. 'I don't know what's worse, the ball or the trip back,' Riandra mused to herself.

The sixteen year old human silently griped through the four week journey back to her home, of which she was just a week through. She reached up, unclasping the latch that held the window up, and folded the glass panel out. Ria shifted as she popped her head out of the opening, looking towards the front of the carriage. "How much longer?" she hollered to the two stagecoach drivers that had been tasked with ferrying the youth back home.

"We'll be stopping at Ineman for the night My Lady, it's about five hours until we get there," one of them shouted back.

"Five hours," the teenager muttered as she pulled herself back into the carriage, shutting the window. "Curse of being a Gardenhill..." she said to herself with a sigh, leaning back into the plush seat of the gaudy interior.

"It is unbecoming of a young lady of your status to lean out of the window, dear Miss Riandra." The chiding voice belonged to Estra Farthing, an attendant of Ria's family. An attendant dedicated specifically to looking after the girl, to be exact. The youth rolled her eyes; while the woman had the girl's best interest at heart, it didn't stop her from driving her mad.

Riandra was the only child of Lothain and Solina Gardenhill, a noble family that resided within Wesslia. The Gardenhills were a wealthy noble family; wealthy and noble might seem redundant, but they were wealthy even compared to other human houses.

While carrying the name of her family granted the youth a myriad of opportunities, it also came with an equal number of responsibilities. Her attendance was expected at balls, feasts, and a plethora of other lofty but trivial events. If there was one thing the noble houses loved, it was to brandish their wealth and upstage the other families. Now that she was of age, her parents wished her to find a proper suitor - the last thing that she wanted. The girl had just spent the last three days eating, talking, and dancing with young gentlemen from other houses, and nothing could put her in a sour mood better than that.

Riandra yearned to make her own name, to step out from the shadow of her family and be independent. An ironic goal really, as the young Lady was the epitome of spoiled. She had been educated, protected and sheltered by her family, raised to be a proper princess and nothing more. She had been waited on hand and foot for all of her life, but she was drawn to the world, feeling that she belonged elsewhere. The truth was, she knew nothing of the world and wouldn't last one day on her own outside the gates of her family's manor.

The teenager kicked her feet up on the empty seat across from her, once again leaning her head against her hand as her elbow rested against the door. Estra shook her head disapprovingly, but she knew there was no reasoning with the girl. Merely the interior of the carriage itself was a tribute to the Gardenhill fortune - plush leather seats, trimming of pure gold, an elaborate handheld mirror, and a decanter set with matching crystal glasses. A display of wealth with no substance behind it.

Ria endured the journey home as best as she could. Her diminutive frame was clad in matching white and navy top and leggings, each trimmed with gold and flaired by large golden buttons. A matching overcoat hung around her neck and shoulders, draping down to the backs of her knees. Her small hands were swathed in blue gloves, and her feet donned a pair of navy and golden boots. While her outfit was more practical, designed for travel, it was still tailored to boast the family's status. 'Everything always has to match, always has to be presentable.'

The teen perked up as she heard a bit of a commotion and shouts from the drivers. Riandra once again opened the window, peeking her head out. "What's going on?" she yelled.

"My Lady, please lock the doors and stay inside!" one of the men replied, the tone of his voice more frantic than it usually was, putting the girl on edge. She did as she was asked - as she always did - and shut the window, making sure the doors were locked.

 

[Magnus Aurelius]

The fire was crackling nicely, and Ruth had been lucky and caught a rabbit in a small snare she'd set before making camp. It'd only taken her a few minutes to skin and gut it, and it was currently sitting on a spit over the small campfire. The smell of roasting meat was making her stomach rumble, but she paid it no mind. Ruth was too busy laying on her back, arms folding beneath her head, staring at the darkening canopy overhead. She was tracing the branches, trying to see if she could 'move' from one tree to the next, all the way to the edge of the tree line. She had to do something to keep herself occupied while she was traveling, and stupid games like that kept her sane.

A slightly pointed ear perked up when she realised that there was a crackling sound that wasn't coming from the dripping fat of the rabbit into the fire. She frowned for a moment. She didn't move at all as she listened. Not a muscle, even her breathing seemed to come to a stop as she froze, focusing completely on this suddenly alien noise. It took her a moment before she guessed it sounded like wheels over dirt and stone. Sitting up, she glanced back through the woods toward the road and wondered if there weren't some other travelers passing through. She couldn't see through the trees, but she'd have guessed that there was a carriage somewhere off in that direction.

If she'd counted herself as a bandit, she might've toyed with the idea of robbing them... It'd been a while since she'd last gotten into a scrap, after all.

But no, she turned and lay back down, arms crossing beneath her head once more. She was an honest, hard working and most importantly, reputable mercenary. The last thing she needed was for rumours to go spreading around and people not trusting her. In this line of work, all it took was one bad piece of gossip and every contract you reach for turns to piss faster than Orcish Ale. She sighed and hooked one foot over the other ankle, her toes tapping against the air as she considered how she'd do it.

Well, first she'd have to stop the carriage. A felled tree would do that easily enough, and it wouldn't take her too long to do. Next she'd have to take care of any guards... Carriages that travel through this way alone usually had one or two, though from her experience, unless they hired proper bodyguards, they'd just be scarecrows that'd fall without much trouble. Next, the driver... Definitely have to either kill or subdue the driver. Wouldn't want them trying to bolt. Carriage horses were usually calm beasts, properly trained. Without someone cracking the whip, they wouldn't go anywhere. Once the guards and the driver were done, it was just taking care of the fancy, uptight, pompous asses that couldn't bear to use their own two feet to travel.

A smile spread across her lips as she idly imagined there being some fainting, fanciful Princess awaiting her in the cabin, and for the next few minutes, she idly entertained herself by imagining all the lustful and vulgar things she'd do to the woman. Of course, in her imagination the waif would have been begging her for it with fluttering eyes and blushing cheeks.

A grin crossed her tusk'd mouth as she closed her eyes and slowly lost herself in the fantasy, causing her to completely miss the other strange sounds that were filtering through the forest, ignoring them in favour of the imaginary moans and giggles of her Princess lover in the back of a carriage.

 

[Amorellia]

Riandra's eyes widened up as the sound of a thunderous crack resounded throughout the carriage. A tree had been felled only only some ten meters ahead of the caravan, far too close to be a coincidence, bringing the journey to a halt. The noise of shouting voices and the unmistakable sound of steel being drawn prompted the youth to sit up, gluing her face to the glass. "W-what's going on?" she asked frantically.

"Stay inside!" she heard the command from one of the drivers, or rather, guards. No prudent noble family would send their precious daughter without a proper escort, and the two men who took turns driving the carriage were the Gardenhill's most trusted soldiers. They had served the family for longer than Riandra had been alive, and had slain many men that had tried to accost their house.

"Come here child," Estra moved over to the same bench that Ria sat on, and scooted close to her, wrapping her arms around the youth and pulling her back from the window. "The guards will protect us, that's what they're here for." In that moment Riandra regretted all the poor thoughts that she had had towards the attendant during their journey.

The guards hopped down from the carriage and sprung into action. The distinct sound of steel clashing with steel echoed throughout the pathway, and the voices of many men - too many men - filled the air. Ria scooted back toward the window, her emerald eyes widening as she looked down and saw a bandit laying on the ground, blood pouring forth from his throat. A gasp escaped her lips before Estra pulled her back again and held her tight, trying to reassure her.

The teenager let out a scream as the bloodied face of one of the thugs slammed up against the glass, before slowly sliding down to the ground, leaving a crimson smear along the pristine glass.

"There's too many of them!" a shout from the outside.

Ria was already worried, but the realization that the guards were being overrun prompted tears to well up in her eyes. 'This is the end,' she thought as she began to cry, the tears rolling down her cheeks and tainting her immaculate clothing. 'I should've never left home.' "I don't want to die," she sobbed as her attendant held her tightly, doing her best to comfort the youth.

As fearsome, skilled, and well-equipped as the guards were, there were too many bandits; they were outnumbered seven to one. After several minutes of battle, the first of the knights was felled. Only thirty seconds later, the second. While only three of the attackers remained, the carriage was defenseless.

"Open 'er up!"

Ria screamed - a blood-curdling, desperate scream - as one of the remaining men smashed the lock and pried open the door. He advanced up to the step of the carriage, bloodied sword in hand.

"You will not lay a ha - " Estra's voice was cut off as the blade pierced her sternum, the words instead coming out as a horrid gurgle as blood cascaded from her lips.

"Shut yer trap old lady," the thug said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn't just murdered someone. "Well well, what have we here? Guess I'm going to get to have my fun with you first," the man said menacingly, a wicked grin spreading across his yellow and mostly toothless mouth.

Ria scooted away from him until she backed into the opposing door. Tears rained down her cheeks as she screamed; but she knew the shrieks were futile. No one was coming to save her. If only her parents had let her learn how to fight like she wanted. If only she had been allowed to begin her sorcery training earlier, maybe then she could've defended herself. She had always wanted to go out into the world, but she never imagined it would've been like this.

 

[Magnus Aurelius]

Deep in the middle of her fantasy, Ruth was contemplating unbuckling her belt to 'take care' of herself. Normally once she was this far gone, it would have taken someone stumbling into her camp to really snap her out of her daydream. Unfortunately, a sound did break through her imagination to bring her attention to what was happening around her. It was a slow, then echoing cracking sound, followed by a reverberating thud that she could feel in the hollow of her chest. Dark eyes snapped open and a quick throb of a dull ache pulsed as the light of her fire hit them. She took in her surroundings as she wondered very briefly as to what that sound was, but her earlier train of thought honed her thoughts to a razor edge. A felled tree. Her brow drew down as she considered what that would mean...

Generally, in her experience, if someone was going to be ballsy enough to rob a carriage, they'd do so when they were either confident enough that they'd get away with it, or desperate enough to attempt it. The latter wouldn't be smart enough to lay a trap, the former would be strong enough to deal with whatever guards a carriage would have. Her hand moved away from the belt of her pants as the cogs of her mind turned. On the one hand, if she got over there and saved whoever was being attacked, she'd probably get a fat pay. On the other hand, if she got there and everyone was dead, she could just kill the bandits and take whatever valuables were there. Finders keepers, and it wouldn't be like she'd kill anyone good or innocent, so it wouldn't be as if her reputation would suffer in any way. Lastly, if there were too many bandits, or guards still standing, all she had to do was walk away. Really, there wasn't anything to lose!

She glanced over at the fire and at the rabbit that was slowly cooking. She guessed it'd take the better part of an hour, maybe even more, before it was cooked properly. She wobbled her head from one side to the other as she considered her options, before sitting up, and climbing to her feet. No matter what, it wouldn't hurt to go and scope out what was happening. Quickly she threw her breastplate over her head and tightened the straps around the sides of her. Axe in hand, she made for the road, moving as quickly as she could through the brush while trying to make as little noise as possible.

She didn't get far before she heard the sounds of a fight. Metal against metal, shouts, cries of pain, scuffling feet. Whatever was happening was still happening, and she could see through the tree like a group of moving bodies. She slowed and crept up behind a thick trunk, pressing up behind it and peered around to see two armed guards hacking away at a group of men in rugged leathers with shoddy swords and daggers. She watched and it only took a second for her to see that those well armed guards wouldn't last long. Despite their speed, their technique and their armour, they were simply outnumbered, and just as she though, it only took a moment for one of the bandits to get behind one and slip a blade under his arm and up through his neck. The second one dropped soon after.

Ruth's eyes scanned the bloody scene and she couldn't help but think that the two of them did a lot better than she'd thought. She thought a quick praise of honour to the dead men, before she raised the haft of her greataxe into both of her hands and stepped out from behind the tree. The remaining bandits were on the other side of the carriage, and too focused on whatever was happening inside to notice as she came around to the side. She heard a wet, gurgling sound coming from inside and decided that she'd be taking whatever valuables were left, after all!

As she stepped around, one of the three remaining men turned and spotted her. It was like the world slowed down as her axe twisted around to her left. The man's mouth began to open as his eyes registered shock. A hand came up, dagger in closed fingers, pointing toward her. She even noticed the way his chest expanded as he drew breath to shout to his friends. He didn't get the chance as Ruth's torso unleashed like a coiled spring, twisting around with enough force behind her axe to slice clean through the Human's jaw, exploding out the other side in a clean cut. The upper half of his head flew off to the right and slapped wetly against the carriage as the other man beside him clued in to something being wrong. But Ruth was already moving. She'd taken a step forward, swinging her hips around to continue the spin of her axe like a great whirlwind of death. Just as his eyes met with hers, it impacted his chest, blade sinking all the way to the haft. The force of the impact threw his entire body against the side of the carriage with a thunderous crash. A third man was half inside, and Ruth released her axe, embedded so deeply within the second Human. She rushed forward, and before he could pull himself out, she collapsed onto his back, wrapping a thick, muscular arm around his neck. Her other arm came up and locked the first in place. Muscles tensed like steel as she applied more and more pressure. Struggle as he might, the man's face began to turn red as his eyes bulged. Elbows hit her ribs, but she ignored the pain. His heel kicked against her shin, but she barely felt it as she straightened her back and pulled him off his feet and into the air. The red began to turn purple on his face as he tongue stuck out, and then the purple turned blue as his struggling turned lame, and then stopped all together. Once his body went limp, Ruth's hand gripped the Human's jaw, her other arm reaching around his front to grab the opposite shoulder, and then pulling in opposite directions, turned his entire head around to face her with a wet crunch.

The entire encounter had probably lasted a dozen seconds, maybe twice that at most. To Ruth, it felt like minutes, hours even. She was panting heavily as she looked around to see if there were any more, before a pointed eat twitched at a sound. She reached up and wiped at her nose with the back of her wrist and huffed as she stepped up to the carriage, wondering if whoever in it was still hanging on to life. What she saw, was a bit of a surprise. She blinked at the young, Human woman that was still inside, huddling behind the bloody carcass of another, older Human woman. By the way she was dressed, Ruth guessed she might've been royalty, or nobility at the least. Great. If Ruth was extremely lucky, she'd have been the daughter of a wealthy merchant... Ruth was never that lucky.

"And who are you, then?" She asked, her voice husky and rough.

 

[Amorellia]

The teenager had shut her eyes, too afraid to welcome death, or worse, with an open gaze. Panicked shrieks and cries tore at her throat as the bandit stepped into the carriage and knelt onto the seat to approach her. A sudden, dull thud hit the carriage behind her, sending the youth into even more of a frenzy. Only a few seconds later a louder thump smacked into the cart in front of her, scaring her eyes open and eliciting a whimpered squeal from the young girl.

She fell silent, save a few sniffling tears, as the man moved towards her, sensing her impending end. Suddenly a muscular, green arm wrapped around his throat, and another arm, locking it in place. Ria's mind couldn't decide if it was gripped with fear or relief as she was forced to watch the bandit be strangled to his death. She gasped as he was suddenly pulled back and lifted out of the carriage, when she finally saw her new savior, or perhaps new assailant.

An orc lifted the man by his throat with ease until his face turned purple, arms stopped thrashing, and feet stopped kicking. She was strong; far stronger than any of the bandits or guards were. The girl watched wide eyed as the woman shifted her grip on the dead man, when she suddenly almost ripped his head clean off. Ria wanted to scream. She tried to scream, to yell, to cry, but she had nothing left. She had no more tears to shed and her throat was too raw to yell. She simply slumped back against the door of the carriage and awaited her end.

She was too paralyzed with fear and too exhausted to do anything as the orc stepped up onto the carriage. "P-please," the nobleborn girl whimpered. Her throat was too hoarse, and she coughed. "Please don't hurt me..." Ria pled, raising up a hand, as if it would do anything for her defense, feeling tears drying on her cheek. "Take everything, just don't hurt me..." she breathed out, her arm dropping tiredly onto her lap.

 

[Magnus Aurelius]

Ruth's heart was hammering in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins making the world seem a little hazy. It'd only been a few moments of murderous exertion, but it didn't feel like that to her, and she knew that it'd take her a little bit to come down from the high of combat. While she didn't mean to, her face was set in a powerfully menacing glare, eyes opened wide, mouth screwed up in a snarl, her body tense, hands opening and closing into fists as her shoulders slowly rose and fell with each breath. She placed one leather boot on the edge of the door to the carriage and leaned in, getting a better look at the dead woman, and the living one that occupied it. The dead one looked older, but she wasn't as finely dressed as the girl... Probably a servant. The girl on the other hand, she was definitely money. Lips pursed around her tusks and she straightened her back, inhaling so that her chest expanded to it's full size, filling her lungs. Slowly she let all the air out of her, deflating, releasing those violent urges along with the tension in her shoulders.

From the outside, it would have appeared as if Ruth had literally shrunk, though it would have been a trick of the mind. She rolled her neck to one side, a few small pops and cracks sounding, and then rolled her right shoulder around. "Not my style to go hurtin' some little girl. Not unless I got paid to, anyway." She said, before she turned to spot her greataxe, blade still buried haft-deep in the chest of one of the bandits. She frowned and stepped aside, kicking the corpse onto it's back and placed her boot on his chest. With both hands, she gripped the haft and pulled, the blade coming free after some stubborn resistance with a wet, sucking sound as blood and air filled the cavity in the dead man's chest.

Shouldering her axe, she came back to the door of the carriage and looked at the girl again. "They're all dead." She said, matter-of-factly. It didn't really matter to her, after all, this wasn't exactly something she hadn't thought might happen. She wouldn't lie to herself and say she wasn't a little disappointed the girl was still alive. She'd have felt much better about looting the carriage if everyone was dead... Well, maybe there was still a profit to be made...? She considered that she needed to get back to Wesslia to complete her contract and get paid for that. If she were lucky, this one was on her way to Hyr, or something and she could drop her off on the way?

Ruth crossed one arm over the other, axe hanging over her shoulder as she leaned against the side of the doorframe of the carriage. "Quit your sniveling." She growled, scowling at the girl's tears. "You're alive, arencha?" Ruth didn't have patience for the blue-bloods at the best of times. About the only kind she didn't mind were the ones that paid generously and let her do what she needed to do. "Look, I'm on my way to Wesslia, to Keatharireth, not too far from the eastern border. If you think you can afford me, I can see to it that you get there... Alive." She added at the end, the last word hanging as a question of whether it was a threat, a promise or an offer.

 

[Amorellia]

The teenager was too tired to scream, too tired to fight, too tired to run away; she could simply sit there, breathing heavily as she leaned back against the door, the tears on her cheeks beginning to dry in salty stains on her skin. She was sure that the orc would kill her - she dispatched of those three men so easily, the woman could probably end her with not much more than a sneeze. The orc's demeanor did nothing to dissuade the thought; Riandra could merely look on as those aged eyes glared at her, the warrior's face curled up into a murderous snarl, as if she were searching for her next victim and was about to find it.

But kill her she did not. The youth blinked as she watched the orc step back and straighten up, taking a deep breathe and calming herself. The cracks from her neck sent a twitch through Ria's body, and while she couldn't see it, the sound of the axe being pulled from the corpse sent a shiver down her spine. 'Not all dead,' she thought to herself. '...not yet at least.'

The girl wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her top, further tarnishing the fabric. 'Alive' she mused, repeating the woman's words in her mind. She wondered if she really were alive, or if she had died in the chaos and this was some sort of nightmare. "I-I..." her voice cracked and croaked as she tried to speak, prompting a harsh and painful cough.

Ria took a deep breathe, beginning to wonder if it'd been better if she had died in the battle. "I-I live in Wesslia," she responded, her voice coarse and strained. "I don't have any money..." her eyes widened as she saw the disdain on the orc's face at the comment. "B-but my parents do! T-they're one of the most wealthy nobleborns in Wesslia. I-I'm sure they'd reward you handsomely, a-and you can take whatever you want from here, please!" the young girl offered.

In a cruel sense of irony, the world had thrown Riandra into the adventure she always dreamed of. Now that it was here, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her dull, sheltered, but safe life. In the back of her mind the girl wondered about the true intentions of the orc, but she knew she would never survive on her own; she had no choice.

 

[Magnus Aurelius]

Ruth listened to the whimpering of the girl and frowned as she looked over the edge of the road and down into the valley beyond. On the one hand, she'd almost died. On the other hand, the girl hadn't even attempted to fight for her life, so she might as well have died. Ruth crossed her arms and huffed to herself, before stepping around to the door again as the girl mentioned coming from Wesslia herself. More than that, she promised her payment... Well, she promised her parents would pay her. Her brow drew down even more. The girl wasn't even willing to pay for her own rescue and delivery, had to rely on someone else. A finger tapped against her bicep as she considered. This was more or less what she was hoping for, but there was something that was bothering her and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Well, ain't that lucky." She said in a non-committal way. She sighed and scratched the back of her head, fingers sliding up beneath the ponytail that hung down to her shoulders. She placed the butt of her axe on the ground, blade still dripping with gore, and reached a hand into the carriage, to the girl. "Name's Ruthlok. You do what I say, when I say, and pull your weight? I might not decide to throw you off the cliff here." She jerked her head toward the valley behind them. She gave the girl a small, amused grin. It was meant to be a joke, really it was. But she wasn't sure if she wouldn't be tempted to just 'lose' the girl if she irked her enough. There were some things that weren't worth getting paid for, and babysitting was right at the top of that list for Ruth.


Taking a few steps back, she took stock of the carriage and what was left of the men. It didn't look like the bandits had much on them... Probably a mix of desperation and confidence in numbers that pushed them do try and rob the carriage. Their numbers only got them so far... Almost worked, if she hadn't been there. She couldn't see any horses around. She made a noise in her throat as her eyes narrowed... Either the bandits freed them and shooed them off so nobody had a chance at getting away, or there were more of them, and they rode off ahead with the horses... She didn't like the latter idea too much. Meant they might have someone on their heels if they weren't careful, and she hated sleeping with one eye open. It made her ridiculously cranky in the mornings.

She could see the tracks leading off into the trees and around the blockade that they bandits had caused, but she had no idea if they were riderless or not. She could track a person, but she wasn't some wildman ranger who could tell if someone had taken a dump in the morning by how heaving their bootprints were on the leaves after a storm, or some such craziness that those people could do. She sighed and turned to look at her new 'charge'. "Might have been some of those men survived. Might not. Best move on quickly. I've got a camp off in the woods. We'll wait out the night and head off on first light." Ruth didn't fancy rushing through the woods and cliffs at night. Last thing she needed was to stumble and break her ankle, or trip and tumble off a cliff.

Sighing heavily again, she picked herself up and stuck her head into the carriage, stepping inside before she started to rummage around to see what she could find to take. She was tempted to rummage through the pockets of the dead woman, but half of her thought it was in poor taste, half of her knew that a servant wouldn't have anything worth taking. Her lips screwed up in thought as she continued her task, before she stopped and looked at the girl. "Hey, save me some time and tell me where anything valuable is, yeah? It'll get us to shelter faster." She wasn't going to leave completely empty handed, with a burden on top of that.

 

[Amorellia]

Ria chewed on her plush lower lip, a bad habit she fell back on when she was anxious, as she watched the orc and awaited a response. The woman didn't seem too enthused about the situation, and kept peering around as if she were nervous about something. Even though her life rested in her hands, Riandra couldn't help but wonder if the orc was deciding whether or not to slaughter her there or simply sell her into slavery.

The teenager leaned away as Ruthlok extended her hand, afraid that it was intended to harm her. After a seconds of the orc simply holding her hand out and giving the girl a blank but stern glare, and finally offering her name, Ria understood. She hesitantly reached out with a quivering grasp and accepted the greeting. "I-I am Ria," the girl cleared her throat. "Riandra Gardenhill," she said. "Of the Gardenhill family." 'Probably shouldn't have added that,' she thought to herself of the obvious addendum. The woman's hand dwarfed her own, and if the violent display just a minute earlier hadn't convinced her, she now knew for certain that the orc could crush her in a heartbeat if she so wished.

The young lady's eyes widened at Ruthlok's attempted humor; unclear as to whether it was a joke or a threat, Ria figured it best to take the woman seriously. Living in Wesslia she'd seen Orc and other races, but she had never been acquainted with or even spoken to any. She didn't understand why, but most of the noble Human houses kept to themselves, even sometimes showing distain for other kinds, thinking themselves superior. Arrogance, a common trait among all kingdoms of Men. The girl hunched up in the corner a bit as Ruthlok entered the carriage and began to scavenge its remains.

"A-ahm, anything that looks gold here is," Ria said, motioning toward the interior of the carriage with a shaky hand. There were a few items that the woman might take, like the handheld mirror, but most of the value was built into the compartment itself. Elegant leather seats, gold trim; nothing that could be easily taken by hand. The girl reached down underneath the seat that Estra had originally sat on and pulled out a small, plain metal lockbox. "This is the only money we brought with us, there's not much left, I-I'm sorry," she explained, carefully holding out the box with both hands, as if it were a humble offering, hoping it would be enough to appease the woman.

"A-and I have some jewelry in my, my..." Ria began to say as her eyes looked for her luggage. She found it - a large leather bag that contained her clothes, dresses, jewelry, and other things for her trip. The rich brown hues of the leather had been stained a deep crimson, as Estra's bloodied body rested atop it. "...bag." the girl finished.

 

[Magnus Aurelius]

Ruth's expression dropped when the girl explained that the carriage itself was where most of the money lay. She should have known that Humans were more likely than not to put their gold in their possessions than their pockets. She was tempted to try and pry at least one panel of gold from the carriage itself. It wouldn't have been impossible, but it would have been rather annoying to attempt. Instead, she turned when the girl mentioned her trunk and sighed. She resigned herself to the fact that she'd only really get paid out of all of this if the Human managed to make her way back to her family. Ruth guessed that throwing the whelp off the side of the cliff wasn't an option after all... She could have blamed bandits on the girl's death, but... No.

When she mentioned the family's name, Ruth's slightly pointed ears perked up. She knew that name. Despite the fact that most of the Free Cities were ruled by their own councils, commerce was the real power of the realm. The Gardenhill Family was one of the more influential, and by extension, wealthier nobility within Wesslia. And within Wesslia, being known as 'wealthy' was a considerable title. A brow rose and she considered that it may just be worth the effort of making sure this little whelp managed to continue breathing long enough to put in a good word to those parents she'd mentioned. Maybe she'd even whip her into shape and make her worth more than two coppers being rubbed together... Or not. Nobles didn't know what was worth what, they simply had piles of gold to throw at people who did.

Resigning to the loss of loot, Ruth shook her head and made for the trees. "Leave it behind." She ordered, pausing for a moment. "I'm not carrying it for you, and I honestly don't think you could if you tried. Let's go." She barked, and headed into the trees. She was thinking of those horses, and growing more and more paranoid that they weren't just set free. Horses, 'specially good horses were worth their weight in gold. She more than most people in Wesslia knew that, so if she were going to rob a carriage, she'd make damn well sure to take the horses with her. She did not want to be around here for long for some lucky, bandit bastards to come around and chance a stab in her back.

"Keep up, I'm not slowin' down." She called over her shoulder as she marched back toward her camp. It was at that point that she remembered that she had a rabbit that was cooking over her fire, and cursed under her breath. She started to rush forward in a half-jog, not wanting the meat to burn. That was her dinner for the night, after all. While there would probably be a week's worth of travel, at the very least, to go, she didn't want to start it off on an empty stomach. She knew that Humans thought Orcs ate Human flesh, she'd heard them say it, but she had considered it in the past, and decided that Humans looked far too stringy to make any good meals out of. The girl that was following her in particular.

 

[Amorellia]

Riandra watched as the expression on the orc's face changed to one of disappointment. 'This is the end,' she imagined, thinking that Ruth would now change her mind about the idea. To her surprise, the woman only told to her follow. 'I guess she won't be killing me here at least.' "B-but my things..." the teenager protested at the idea of leaving her bag behind. But the words fell on deaf ears as she simply watched the orc turn and head for the treeline. With nothing but the clothes on her back, Ria climbed out of the carriage to follow.

She was used to having everything; and the things she didn't have, she need only ask and someone would bring it to her. Now she truly had nothing, and was forced to put her life in the hands of someone who didn't seem to want her company. She used the sleeves of her top to wipe the dried tears from her rosy cheeks, scurrying to follow the woman and being careful to dodge the corpses that littered the ground.

"Where are we going?" Ria shouted as Ruth disappeared into the treeline. The youth did her best to maintain pace, having to nearly sprint just to keep up with the longer strides of the orc. She winced as she entered the forest, holding her arm up in front of her to fight away the invading branches. While the outfit was designed for comfort and travel, the girl who wore it was not. "W-wait up!" she squeaked in youthful protest as she watched Ruth start to jog, having to run so that she wouldn't lose eyesight of her. A fallen log seemed to come up out of the ground and dare to attack her legs, causing the teen to trip and fly forwards. She reached out and broke her fall with her arms, but cut her left hand on some branches in the process. By the time she stood back up, the woman was gone. "Ruthlok?" she yelled, gritting her teeth as she held her hand to keep it from bleeding. "W-where are you?"

 

[Magnus Aurelius]

It didn't take her long before she spied the fire of her camp. Thankfully, everything was exactly where she'd left it. She let out a sigh of relief and made her way over to the rabbit, examining it for a moment to see the flesh crispy, knowing that inside it would be nice a moist and delicious. What she wouldn't have given to have some ground barug root to give it some proper 'kick'. She quickly took one end of the spit and pulled the rabbit out from over the fire, lancing the other end into the dirt beside the campfire. While she wasn't starving, knocking a few heads together usually worked up an appetite in her. Normally she would have just taken a bite there, but there was something else that was drawing her attention.

It sounded like a wounded bear was stumbling around in the brush behind her, and the crying and whining were worse than a wounded deer. Ruth growled, a tightening in her chest that just wanted to go over and thump the little twit in the head to quieten her down. She turned and leaned her axe against a tree by her little tent and made to head back into the brush. It honestly didn't take her long at all to find the girl. She was making enough noise for half the woods to be able to find her in the middle of a moonless, clouded night. She growled, simmering with irritation when she saw her, on her knees and... Was she bleeding? Ancestors and spirits, help her... The way things were going, she'd have to keep an unblinking watch on the girl or she'd kill herself in one way or another.

She stepped out of the brush and looked down at the pathetic looking Human. Crouching down in front of her, she rested her forearms on her knees and tilted her head to one side. She reached down with one hand and clamped it tightly over the girl's mouth. A single finger crossed her lips as she locked eyes with the girl. "Keep up, stay quiet." She hissed in a low voice. "There could be more bandits in the woods, and I don't want them knowing where I'm sleeping." She lowered her finger, but didn't remove her hand from the girl's face. "Now... Can you be quiet, or am I going to have to gag you?" She asked, finally managing to control the irritation in her voice, instead a forced patience filling that void. Her eyes drifted down the girl's body for a moment and remembered her little fantasy earlier. She was skinnier than Ruth liked, but she was a pretty Human, and honestly, she didn't think having a gag in her mouth would be unappealing at all. But she kept that to herself.

Giving her a pointed look, Ruth finally released her mouth and stood up, turning back to the way she came. "Look at the ground, there's an animal trail." She pointed at a very small line that seemed to be slightly more clear of leaves and twigs than around it. "Follow it to camp. That, or keep up, like I told you to do." And with that, Ruth headed straight back at an easy pace. At least, for her.

 

[Amorellia]

The girl winced as she held her hand, as she heard what she hoped was her new captor or savior (she was still undecided) trudging through the brush towards her. She was about to protest and tell the woman that she was moving to fast, but the strong hand clamped around her mouth and jaw. Her eyes went wide - no one ever told her to be quiet, it was usually the other way around. But it seemed like if she wanted to stay alive, or at the very least not immediately be kilned by the orc, she best bite her tongue. After a moment, the teenager nodded silently before the woman stood back up.

Apparently the orc had gotten Ria confused with someone else, because she seemed to the think the girl was a master tracker, capable of following an invisible trail from what may as well have been a mouse. The girl opted for the other option, still putting pressure on her palm as she scurried through the trees, following after the woman. "A-ahm, w-where are we -" Riandra began to ask, but she froze and stopped talking as soon as Ruth whipped her head around and gave her a stern glare. The girl began to wonder if the woman could manage any other type of glare. With a heavy sigh that heaved her shoulders, she bit her tongue and continued onward in the path that the orc blazed for her.

The gravity of her situation began to set in, and Ria began to wonder if she'd been better off on her own. Maybe more bandits wouldn't have come back, and maybe she could've found found someone else to bring her own. Or maybe the girl would have even stumbled across another nobleman traveling back to Wesslia. Musings from a naïve girl that all seemed fruitless now. One thing she knew; the Ruth didn't care for her company, and the feeling was mutual. The teen was used to have everyone kowtow to her will, but this orc seemed intent on the opposite. Oh why couldn't her rescuer have been some gallant knight?