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Mercy Repaid (Relic)

Lady Nightshade

Lady Nightshade

Super-Earth
Joined
Oct 19, 2009
Everything was gone! Her life was burning away as smoke mingled with ash, burned her eyes. Andrea shouted as the few patrons in her Tavern had ran out in a flurry of anger. The small town was under seige from the enemy. Everyone had thought they were safe from the war. Being so far out of the way from the line of fire, it was logical to assume that and sit back resumming their lives.

When I catch the son of a bitch who did this...


Andrea rubbed her eyes and had made a grabe for her small hip dagger. Everything eles was already burning. The liquer would only speed the progress. It had taken her several years to aquire herself a name and respect to being a female tavern owner. To late to do anything else, Andrea knew she had to escape the choking ash and make it out of the town. Alove she could always re-build. Dead. Well, dead was dead and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

making it out of the building, there was more chaos. Women, men and children were screaming as the sound of those who were fighting buzzed over. Coughing, andrea blinked back up to her Tavern. Green eyes reflecting back all that she had worked for before a rush of wind picked up and pushed her brown hair across her face. It was enough to gain her attention as she looked to the East of the town and started to run. Saftey was priorety, and that ment having to leave those she had liked and cared for. The burgendy and black tavern dress she wore was at least made to aid her in running. Made by her own hand it was all she had left...
 
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Ser Kalin Berristen was hardly a stranger of war. Hell, it was on these very fields that he had made his reputation some four years ago, fighting off a small band of bandits. Nothing big, of course, but enough to earn him some renown, to cause the citizens of the small town to hold a small feast in his and his men’s honor. Now, however, was a different story.

He was a devil in silver, a fiend to any and all he passed. Some twenty minutes ago he had sounded the first arrows launched, the first parties sent in. That had been a while back, however, when the town was asleep and the danger imminent, when there were still risks of repercussions, or a town watch sounding the alarm. That was back when there had been a chance.

Now? Now was when he strode through the streets, the thin longsword that had made him famous those years ago running red with the blood of the damned. How many women had he seen being taken in the streets, or young men bleeding out, a simple butcher’s knife in their hands? Or how many, for that matter, had met a swift blow from Ser Berristen’s own blade, a simple slash or stab that made their miserable lives a thing of the past.

Which brought him here, to the eastern gate…Well, close. To one of the few roads that led there. Few were left fighting now, and fewer running. Yet, when he turned and saw that woman barreling towards him, dress flying and hair disheveled, fear and fury both on her face? He paused. He didn’t just turn, didn’t step forward and end her life. He but lifted his blade to his side, effectively barring her path. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.” For all the screaming and fire, he was rather calm.
 
It was the bright light bouncing off from the armor that made her stop. Not the raise of the sword. Andrea blinked, and gave a cold stare to the man. Armed or not, she could tell he was the one in charge. It was the posture he gave as well as calm which gave it away. Andrea knew the type of bravdo. He was a dangerous man, and yet blocked her way out. Like hell she wanted to end up like the other women.

"Get out of my way."


Andrea hissed and lay a hand close to her small hip dagger. She knew how to use it, and rather well if need be. There was always another way out, but it was towards the river and there was nothing near for miles. Not the best option.
 
“Oh?” He wasn’t wearing a helmet, which caused two things. For starters, she was able to hear his voice rather clearly. Second, if her eyes were good enough she would no doubt notice his raised eyebrow, the subtle twisting of his wrist, and thus, the blade. “That’s not a good idea. Pass me and there’s a good three score cavalry patrolling the perimeter. Believe me when I say that they will find you, take you, then kill you.” A slight smirk joined his expression, he adding “I should know, I trained them myself.”

It was war, after all. One couldn’t expect kindness, or someone to spare them. All they could expect was a swift end, particularly in a situation like this. “No one walks out of here without my word, I’ve ensured it. So, you can try to get past me.” He chuckled, lowering his blade so that the tip touched the ground, “Hell, I’ll even let you pass. However, to do so would be to sign your own death certificate.”

Truth be told, Ser Kalin Berristen wasn’t sure why he was giving her this information, why he didn’t just step forward and cut her down. She was cute, certainly, but he wasn’t one to notice that in these situations…At least, not in the classical way. Most would see an easy rape target, he simply saw…Well, that was just the thing. He wasn’t sure why, yet he felt she was worthy of a chance. What difference did it make if he gave it to her?
 
"If you're trying to scare me it won't work. I can handel myself." Andrea shot back.

Oh, she knew there had to be patrols out there. Going back wasn't an option either. Andrea had a feeling the man was bored and wanted to see what she could or would do. If his words were true and he trained the men, well, that gave her all the more reason to vent her anger and aggression on him.

"You and your war ruined my life. We had no qural with anyone."


The fact she had said his war and not theirs, was reason enough to say she didn't care. Why would she? War brought nothing but trouble. Lives were taken and familys torn apart. And for what? So some highborn can gain more land? It was a vile thought as she brought up her own weapon. Her fingers holding it to a more throwing style at the ready. yet, her palm hels it tight in true fashion of being trained by an expert. From behind her, she could hear the approaching men that he commanded. Time was running out for options...
 
“Nor did I have a quarrel with you, and yet here we stand regardless of our own personal issues. Funny how these things play out.” Calm as always Ser Kalin turned, if only a touch, as though inviting her to pass, his head indicating the gate behind him. True to his word, four men were posted there, each and every one of them wielding vicious halberds, and worse yet, sporting blood on weapon and armor alike.

“Again, I won’t stop you from passing, but to do so is to dig your own grave.” A pause as he stepped towards her, the blood on his white armor catching the fire’s light in a most peculiar way. “However, I would advise against it. You won’t make it out of the city, never the less the region…” A pause as he chuckled, looking to her knife, “With that…Hell, you couldn’t even pass one fully armored man with that cat sticker.”

His eyes once more returned to hers. They were the eyes, no doubt, of a killer, of a man who knew how to take a life, and worse yet, knew he knew. There was power in there, strength and confidence born of trails and tribulations rather than birthright and heritage. “I’d advise you make your choice now, for in a matter of seconds, the men around you will make it for you.” A pause as he passed his eyes over her body, over-exaggerating the gesture to ensure she caught it. “No doubt multiple times, of course.”
 
To all hell, he was right. The river was deadly enough and again forward there was nothing she could do. Andrea heard the chuckeling behind her as the men came closer. Their eyes gleaming with amusement at the girl holding the knife. Andrea wasn't about to let them ' take her ' from the way he was saying. No man ever had, or would if she had anythign to say about it.

"No one is touching me, or taking me anywhere. You burned down my Tavern. It was my life there. The one thing I cared about and you took it away for what reason?"


OUtraged, she pivioted on her feet as one man came to grab at her. With a snap of her arm, the blade came up and impaled the man under his jaw with a sickening pop/crunch. Two more rushed at her with anger in their eyes as she took it out and threw it to hit the second dead in the left eye.


"You Bitch!"

Cried the others as he came in from the side and poped her in the head, knocking her out cold as she fell tot he ground in a heap.
 
Ser Kalin could have ended the slaughter at any moment. True, she was handy enough with a blade, but he was armored, and had a tendency to over estimate his opponents, a trait that would have saved both of the first soldiers. However, he had preferred to keep still instead, watching as one, then another, fell.

However, three on one is never good odds, no matter how determined the one is. The first two were foolish, but when she had thrown her weapon away? Well, the only thing that shocked Kalin was the soldier left standing preferred to knock her col rather than just slitting her throat and calling it done.

“Sir, what should we do with-“

“Leave her. Continue on, I’ll see to it that she’s taken care of.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the night progressed without a hitch. Survivors were lined, killed, raped and moved on from. Just another day, right?

He had taken the girl, who had yet to be named, to his tent for the night. Given the natural beauty of her, no wonder the soldiers didn’t ask too many questions. However, rather than abuse and take advantage of her, he had only cleared the blood from her head and put her in a pile of blankets he had specifically requested for her.

And that brought them here, in his tent. Kalin at a makeshift desk, his eyes pouring over a map before him. Every once in a while he looked over to the girl, yet he spent most of his time to himself, making the arbitrary marking every now and then. Long ago he had forsaken the white armor for a simple pair of breaches and tunic, far more comfortable in the warm summer air. His hair hung freely to his shoulders, the white of his hair flowing into the white of his tunic, calm grey eyes not even hinting at the malice he had shown earlier.
 
The pooling darkness was the only blessed gift she had. No dreams of the flames or screams. Andrea only awoke from the sleepless slumber when her head started to hurt more then a hangover. Groaning, she slowly opend her eyes and whished she hadn't. The light was painfull to her eyes as she groaned.

Am I Dead?


Andrea thought as she tried to move and couldn't. Her head bothered her too much. With her right hand, she felt around and noted the warm soft blankets that were around her. A slight ruffle and she was aware of someone standing over her as she remembered what happened. It all came back in a rush, her Tavern burning, screams and then the one responsible. Andrea forced herself to open her eyes and focused through the blinding pain tos ee who it was.

"No.. I'm in hell..."
 
“Hell is either some realm of torture and moral vengeance, or the absolute worst place in the world to be.” Kalin turned from the map on his table, grey eyes falling upon the woman in the blankets. “I certainly hope that this isn’t the latter for you, although I could arrange for it to be the former, should that be what you choose.”

Kalin turned in his chair to better view her, chuckling as his eyes fell on her. Despite the blow to the head, the blankets surrounding her, the very nature of he having saved her from a far crueler, far more gruesome fate, she retained that fire, that almost violent edge.

Wonderful.

“Of course, assuming you’d rather stay as you are, I’d recommend you refer to this place as something other than hell. Not heaven, certainly, but I am inclined to give you hell, if that is what you wish.” At those words he stood, although rather than crossing to her, he moved to his own bed where he took a seat, his eyes once more falling on her.

“So, how about a name?”
 
The fire burned even hotter from her eyes as he spoke. Still in pain, Andrea looked like a hunting cat ready to pounce. The fact he saved her frm being raped and killed made him feel that she would owe him something? Gratitude? That was the last thing he would get from her. Fine, she would give him her name, but he had no idea what she was capable of.

If he can believe he can make this place like hell, well, he dosen't know me and what kind of hell I can give him.


It was that edge that had given her the first step when she had started to climb the ladder. That edge that gave her swordsmenship training and much more. The same edge that the villiage gave her the respect she desereved. More so when she had made enough to buy the old shabby Tavern and make it new into her vision. She had been only a young teen, barly eighteen when that happened. Yet, an adult sense younger as most were married off at a very young age. Was the way it was done, and the way she fought against it. Now she was twenty-five and had gained and lost it all.


"Andrea."


She hissed out the answer and grabbed the sides of her head as the pounding headache took her attention away for a moment.
 
“Ahh, and what a fitting name.” He just chuckled to himself, leaning against the makeshift wall of the tent. Truth be told, it was far better than what most men stayed in; he had thick cloth, supports, and room enough for a good ten people to sleep (Though only himself and Andrea took shelter here tonight.) Most had a quarter of the space and three times the people, but hey, whoever said war was glorious?

Besides the poets, of course.

“So, Andrea, tell me. If you were a Captain, a knighted man,” a pause, he changing tracks, “Woman, I suppose, what would you do if you had just seen a peasant kill two of your men with a single knife?” He was casual, given the conversation; leaned back, eyes lazily glancing over her. If anything ,he didn’t seem like he felt he was in any danger. Quite the contrary, it would seem, as he didn’t even so much as have a knife buckled to his belt.
 
The question was asked plainly. As if it would be a conversation over a dinner. When the pounding of her head slowed, she was able to think of an answer. Sense she had no people that worked under her, comradery was out. Thus she speculated.

"I suppose I would be suprised, shocked and then angry that someone who was thought to have no skill could acomplish what was done."

A simple answer. It had to be. There was no need to say that death was also the answer that followed that statment. It was clearly written in the man's eyes. Yet, he had let her live, and was unharmed (assiding the head injury). It had to be that he was curious about her. Why else was she alive and yet apparently his captive. Her eyes flickered arond the room,and she saw he was un-armed. It was a silent challenge to her.
 
A sigh to himself. So very self absorbed. Perhaps he would have been better off to have left her there, or better yet, to have just stepped forward and interfered, to have cut her down and called it done. And yet he hadn’t, he had let her live, and now he was intent on seeing what the consequences were.

“Hardly…” He chuckled, looking over to her. “A stab and a throw? Luck played more of a role there than anything else. So no, I’m not angry, nor surprised.” With that be pushed himself from the wall, leaning forward on the bed in an attempt to ‘level’ the field. “Once you’ve seen enough combat, you learn that luck plays a far larger role in who lives and who dies than skill.”

Still Kalin kept calm, those grey eyes neither staring at her eyes, nor any other part of her body, for that matter. He seemed to take her all in, rather than just one particular piece. “So, once we’re past there, what do you think I would feel?”
 
"Luck had nothing to do with it. I can easily do it again." Andrea snapped back. The man seemed to be an ignorant pig in her eyes. When he leant forward, she stared back, not even slightly intimadated.

"The mighty slayer has feelings?" Andrea poked. "I wouldn't know what you would feel. You kill without a thought. Why would the death of two more be a diffrence? People die in war." Finishing she kept her eyes squared directly onto him. It was getting harder to just sit there and not do something. However, she had a feeling that rushing at him would be a mistake. He didn't become a leader by being weak. The deeper quiestion was why he was holding her here? What reason did he have to let her live after all?
 
Another tilt of his head, another slight smirk on his lips. That was what her answers seemed to awaken in him. Yet, what were they signs of? Amusement? Contempt? Envy? Who knew...

“You call me the heartless killer, yet you boast of being able to reenact the events of earlier.” A chuckle, a shake of the head. “You act shocked that I could possess a shred of humanity, yet it is that very trait that you have to thank for every breath.” Ser Kalin chuckled once more, leaning back as he did so to once more place his back against the wall, his eyes never leaving her.

“However, as for your comment about being able to do it again? There’s a knife on the desk, and I daresay you may be able to reach it before me.” A flat out lie, of course. The distance to the desk was a matter of inches for Kalin, and feet for Andrea. “However, I daresay that would be a rude way to repay your rescuer, now wouldn’t it?”
 
Bastard! He knew that there was no way she could get there that quickly. Even trying would be only a feeble attempt. Andrea only mentaly shot herself a few choice words when she flickered her gaze back to him. Even if she could make it to the table and kill him, she wouldn't be able to make it even a few feet from his tent.

"As if I should care that you let me live." Andrea snorted back to him. She was defeated for now and her head still was making it hard to focus. The guard that had knocked her out was lucky she didn't see his face. "You give little credit. I can hit any target with a good throwing blade." Andrea added. However, she doubted he would care. Nothing mattered to her at this point. He had dragged her into this war and there was nothing she could do about it now. With a sigh of defeat she continued. "So what do you even want from me?" This time her voice was softer and more calm. Not a hint of the venom she had been snapping out at him moments before.
 
“What do I want from you?” Again, a raised eyebrow. Truth be told, it was a question that he himself was having difficulty answering, still. Certainly she was attractive, yet it hadn’t been that attribute that had saved her. (Although, truth be told right now, with her old tattered clothes changed for something cleaner, if not necessarily as covering, he couldn’t help but notice her curves in greater detail.) “Why, that’s a rather complex question, isn’t it.”

He chuckled, once more leaning forward, his grey eyes, as always, never leaving her. He didn’t take the liberties to explore her body as so many others had, yet no doubt he was making notes here and there, even if his focus was on her eyes. “Could be I wanted to talk. Could be I wanted a new slave, a pleasure servant to do my bidding. Hell, could be I just wanted to save you because you have brown hair.” A shrug, both to himself and she. “However, I daresay the original purpose for my saving you, and keeping you now, means little, doesn’t it?”
 
The look she gave him back to the comment of a pleasure slave was that of utter distaste. Also eluding to the silent messege that if he even thought of it, she would fight tot he death against it. Andrea was use to being her own boss and had been ever sense she could remember.

"I guess that is a puzzle for you then for you."


Andrea replied with a little distaste. Apparently, he didn't have a real answer to give her. That tells me I was a suprise, even for him. He dosen't know wht to do with me. So I am a current problem. The thought made her smile. A smile that spread to her lips. Just enough that he could see it and not know exactly what she was thinking. Of course, he had to do something with her or his men could get restless that he took a beautifull women that they could have had. That thought though, made her cringe mentally.
 
“Indeed...” He paused, slowly nodding to himself. “Of course, I suppose the real question is, what will you do?” He tilted his head a touch to the side, chuckling...well, almost. “For you se, I’ve taken women before, and I find it’s not much to my taste. Something is lacking when they’re trying to find a way out, isn’t it?” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Some men boasted of having women beg for more, but in his limited experience, that was hardly the case.

“However, you and I both know my men will want a go at you, and this I can not deny them.” A pause, he thoughtfully tilting his head to the side. “Well, I could, but to do that would be to claim you as my concubine, wouldn’t it?” A smirk spread to his lips. Truth be told, Ser Kalin hadn’t even thought of sex when he had first claimed her, yet every second he saw her he couldn’t help but feel a longing in his loins. “But, I will not force it, it’s not my way.”

A nod to himself, his eyes coming to focus all the sharper upon her. “Thus, take the choice. You may stay here, but as the female of my tent, you will be expected to perform.” A tilt of the head, his eyes never losing their edge. “Or, I will release you. If you can get out of the camp and evade the patrols? More power to you.”
 
Her face paled at the mere mention of having him let those...Animals, have a go at her. However, the choices he was giving her were even less unfavored. It was obvious he was watching her. As if he could see inside her head to watch the wheels turn, as she weighed her decisions.

"I'll stay here with you." Just don't expect me to call you anything special Andrea thought as she shifted on the makeshift bed. The idea of performing anything was making her stomach churn. Sure, he was handsome, but handsome men she found tended to be cruel. He would be no exception.
 
“Good.” He nodded to himself once more. Rather than leaning back again, or leaning forward, or even laying on his side, Ser Kalin stood. He himself wore more comfortable clothes now as well, the silvery white of open shirt and pants doing wonders to match his naturally silver hair and grey eyes. With almost practiced grace he made his way once more to the desk, he resting both hands on it before looking over his shoulder. “Come over here a second, would you?”

despite the blankets, Kalin knew quite well what it was she wore. It was a simple shirt and nothing more, large, mind you, but that was it. After all, her old clothes had been filthy, and thus, deserving of being thrown away. Kalin’s eyes lingered on her for a few moments after he spoke, as if waiting to see her stand, before moving once more to the map before him.
 
Instantly, rebellion sprouted in her eyes as she watched him move back to his desk. Yet, she clamped down her pride and stood, only then noticing that her clothing had been changed. Andrea knew HE had to be the one to do it.



The thought that he had a peek of her body was enough to have her cheeks flush red. In the end she stood and walked the few feet over to him. Her eyes darting to the blade that still was sitting there, and then ignoring it.
 
“Such the conversationist.” Kalin chuckled to himself, eyes flicking to her briefly before looking back at the table. “You see, we’ve got a good two days before we march.” His hand passed over the upper left hand corner of the map, indicating what seemed to be either a large trail or a small road. “Supplied have to be shipped in from Adia before we go further, which means there’s plenty of time to recuperate.”

As he spoke, his hand came up and neatly cupped one of her ass cheeks. He, of course, didn’t do anything to indicate that was what he was doing, yet sure enough he had a handful of ass, and couldn’t help but notice that she had a nice one. “There’ll be time to rest, of course. To rebuild from our losses, restructure.” His eyes flicked over to her as he allowed his hand to slide across, he gripping her other ass cheek. “But, let us not talk of war. What are your hopes and dreams, Andrea?”
 
It was as if she was hit by lightening when his hand grabbed at her ass. Andrea's mind instantly flooded with memories, none good. So, the instant reaction, her right hand flew up and smacked him hard across the face. She tried to move away from him then, and found that his ahnd then gripped her ass tighter. With that combination, she jumped and found herself being pressed a little closer to him.


My hopes and dreams were already ruined.


Came her thought as she stopped moving. Trying to get away from him wasn't going to happen ;and she didn't want to find out what he would do next if she struck him again. Her hopes were shattered and as she fought the bad memories down she locked her eyes to his.

"My hopes and dreams are to get away from you as far as I can.." She hissed. Heart pounded hard against her breast that he could probably feel it.
 
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