Ventrizza Azyan
Morning had long since awakened the woman long before the sun reigned high in dreary skies. In her chambers, a thin sheet of white fabric was draped over her torso and chest, ending just short of her navel. Below that, her breasts were tapered with a cardinal bandage, ensuring that it was loose and properly fitted. While she often utilized her own body for her work, there wasn't much use in showing it off to everyone beneath the sheen of her top. After wriggling on a pair of harem pants, which bellowed and gave no hint of having either slender limbs, or robust ones, she threw on her leather bound sandals, and headed toward the Southern Guild Ward. Through the tavern district, then the bazaar, she was quick on agile feet, and skated easily through the hearty crowds in both places. The only hazard would be the thieves, however, she was sure that she could handle a petty swindler or pick-pocket should it take place. As of this very moment, the only armaments to adorn her figure were ringed melee fastened with loops upon her hip. The others had been left to idle at Sethur's Hand.
A dash of ruby locks tailed her as Ventrizza quickly pushed through the throngs of the southern bazaar, and her feet were cat-like and speedy. Against the hard cobblestone, her gait held the sound of a ghost floating in a silent dark corridor. The female was by no means an amicable spirit; shortened temper, a joyful antagonist. Most of the time, if she was not in the domain of Sethur's Hand, she found herself in the most lowliest tavern wrecking havoc on the men, or swindling merchants for their all-too pricey artifacts. The taverns were here most likely place, as she enjoyed a squabble or two with those of brawny make that think they could so easily pummel the 'fairer sex'. But she was small, and in comparison to those thickly built males with flanks of muscle pulsing at every finger lift, a diminutive stature had far more eye-fleeting movements.
Passing, finally, through the bazaar with no spilt blood, Trizza breached the threshold of the guild ward. Few lingered through these treacherous veins, and two set eyes upon some stranger was a rare sight. That was why, upon viewing the backsides of two men, she stopped momentarily. None of the opposing sex in Sethur's Hand displayed such audacity to wandering aimlessly instead of entertaining the ladies of the guild. The only thing that could creep upon her mind in regards to the pair, was that they were from The Rakkath's command. Now, this particular woman could be very brash and quick to act, which gave her trouble by the plenty. Her silently judgmental mind was the reason for her being so abrasive by nature. It was the unknown that got people killed in Daggerford; the inability to be cautious and fathom every possible outcome or motive of a person in close proximity.
Movement ignited in her quiet feet again, but slower was her pace this time. Listening carefully to their musings, she figured that they would make the attempt to get in with Sethur's Hand. Still, it was strange to her, for did word not get around that the leader abhorred the likes of men? Certainly they did not hear word of their power, as many could speak ill about a band of women wielding blades. Hazel eyes delved in a space further than the brothers, and she saw the visage of the guild's face. They were close. Too close for her taste. Thus, she maneuvered nearer to them, but stayed to their rear. In soft tremors of her vocals, she spoke with nothing but truth, "Word drifts that the leader of Sethur's Hand would detest the likes of men. If you are of The Rakkath, you are better off leaving this course."
She was sure that the woman that held power in Sethur's Hand would sooner maim the two men than accept them. It was best to forewarn them, rather than have to witness yet another down creature that would have to be cleaned up and dumped somewhere. Ceasing her movement, she was patient in regards to waiting for them to let off this course and turn around. Faces. Her eyes wished to settle upon faces, for one never knew who their next enemy might be. A name hadn't been spoke of either the wrathful leader of Sethur's Hand, or herself. Right now, she could hardly see it necessary, and it was just an extra step of precaution. Not that anyone knew the name of their notorious leader, only that she went by Noxia. "Go find another guild, or go back to The Achaz, as it would be arduous to convince Sethur's Hand of your allegiance." It was true. Noxia was paranoid about the spell of spies from The Rakkath's hands, as they were a glorious guild, and one that was not burdened by loss. Yet.
A part of her wished that they would be of The Achaz, and another hoped that their conquest in seeking out a guild was truth. Her mood was not soured with aggression this morning, but she could use the training.