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Clara Snow

"I'm not a Stark, I'm a Snow."

0 · 1,117 views · located in Nassau

a character in “Crowns, Empires, Blood and Swords”, as played by TheCrimsonLady

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โ–‰__Clara__Snow__โ–‰
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{ Q U O T E }

"We look up at the stars, and see such different things"
-George R.R Martin


{ T H E M E S }

[url]Lost in Paradise|Evanescense[/url]



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โ›__I___A M___W H O___I___A M__โœ
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Name:Clara Snow
Title/or Moniker: Lady Snow
Max
GenderFemale
Age:17
Species:Human
Class/Occupation:Bastard of Eddard Stark
Description: Clara is a beautiful, amber eyed girl, with long midnight black hair, olive skin, and a developing woman's figure. She is small, about 5 foot 2 inches, she has an infectious smile, and wears her emotions on her face. She has a small scar on her neck where her capture's knife bit into her skin.

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โ›__W H A T___I S___H I D D E N___W I T H I N__โœ
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Likes:
Singing
Sewing
Caring for Children
Writing Songs and Poems
Dislikes:
Being called a Bastard
Teasing
Bullies
Her Father's Wife, Catelyn
Strengths:
Will
Kindness
Theft
Weaknesses:
Naivety
Physical weakness
Personality:.
Clara Snow used to be a sweet, good natured girl with a good heart and a strong spirit, in which has been hidden due to fear and self doubt. She believed herself weak but is much stronger then she gives herself credit for, especially now. She loves to love but is constantly finding herself hating more and more people. She can be naive and gullible when it comes to things, but she is had begun to gain street smarts, learning what the world really is, and how to navigate it. She's always begun to learn how to use her beauty to her advantage, and can flirt like the best of them.
Quirks and Habits:
Pursing her lips.





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โ›__H O W___I___C A M E___T O__B E__โœ
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Land/Kingdom:The North
History:One night, months after the Battle of Storm's End, a small child was brought to the North, small, and very ill, the baby had no one but the man carrying her in his arms. This child was called, Clara Snow, the child of Eddard Stark, King of the North.
Her life was an odd one, she had many siblings, four brothers, Robb, Jon, Bran and Rickon, and two sisters, Sansa and Arya but they were only half. They were Starks, she was a Snow, a bastard of the North. Her skin was warmer then her siblings, her hair dark, oddly like her older brother Jon, but that was where the similarities ended. For most of her life, she was ill, bed ridden, and it was in one of those days she found that her Father's wife, hated her as she prayed that if the Gods would let Clara live, that she would love her, ask her father give her the Stark name, and the Gods, answered her prayers. Clara got over her illness, and was healthy, able to walk, run and play with her siblings, but Queen Catelyn never did as she said, she never loved her like she said she would. Clara could always seen the contempt in her eyes and Clara couldn't blame her. She was a reminder of the day the honorable Ned Stark broke his vow.

Years later, Mance Rayder, King of the Wildlings attacked Winterfell, killing Starks left and right. Two years in, Taken with her eldest brother Robb while they were visited White Harbor, they were going to be executed via drowning. She managed to survive, washing up on the shores of Nassau.

Having lost all of her family now, Clara Snow managed to befriend Eleanor Guthrie, the only one who knows who and what she really is. After saving her from a group of men, Eleanor gave her a job, as a barmaid in her tavern, under the name Max.

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So begins...

Clara Snow's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clara Snow Character Portrait: Robb Stark
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Clara Snow trotted lightly on her chestnut mare, as she and her half brother, rode along toward White Harbor. She should be happy. How often did bastard girls get married? Sansa had already be promised so Walder Frey had to settle with her. Father told her not to fret, she was beautiful, and he would be happy have her for his son. Jon told her that last he'd been there, they all, male and female looked liked their father.

That did nothing but make her sick. She wasn't alone. Robb was on his way too. They both got the short end of the stick. To secure the Twins for the North, Robb had to marry one of his girls. Clara had been a show of faith.

Clara watched the skies, the sun setting as they made their way. There was a static in the air, like a storm was brewing. It made Clara feel ill.

"Robb...." She called, he wasn't far from her but she still had to rise her voice some. "Something's not right, I don't like this, I want to go home." She told him. It wasn't the marriage, though that didn't help her nausea, something about the way the wind blew that made her feel ill at ease. She couldn't place it.

"I want to go home."

Clara may has well been his subconcious given voice. Robb wanted to go home too. Robb wanted to take his horse and ride off into the night. Robb wanted to get drunk in some tavern or hop a ship and vanish off at sea. Robb wanted to be anywhere but on the road to White Harbor. He and his half sister Clara had been promised to children of Walder Frey in order to cement an alliance between the Starks and the Freys. Robb was livid when he found out, he had told his father that he'd refuse. Told him that he'd leave The North and never return were that the case, damn his birthright. Robb, of course, remebered his duty, as was expected of him once his ire abated. With the growing Wildling threat House Stark needed to be strong and that meant doing what was neccesary for the sake of the realm.

The Freys were an old and powerful house. Not due to riches, or military might, not even due to some great hero somewhere deep in their lineage. They were powerful due to their keep, the seat of power for House Frey was The Twins, sister towers connected by a draw bridge that allowed passage over the Ruby Ford. The ford was a massive river that was violent as it was quick, no army dare cross and hope to make it to the other side. To go around it would add a week at least to ones journey over rough country. The Twins acted as a gate and the Freys, glorified gatekeeps collecting their fare.

The Freys were known to be corruptable, callous, cruel and greedy. The only thing they loved more than coin was bickering amongst each other, as a result the sons and daughters of house Frey didn't get many suitors which led to inbreeding. At the top of this charming family of inbred goblins was Lord Walder Frey, neary to ninety years of age and twisted like an old oak. Back before the gout took him Frey had earned the name The Late Walder Frey for his laxed arrival to battles. Never wanting to commit resources or gold to a cause he would show up days after a battle with his host and claim to have been riding to aid, whichever side that happened to be. Now that honorless old goat was to be his father in law.

"You're right, something isn't right. You and I are about to marry a couple of bridge trolls."

Robb grumbled back at Clara as she came to ride up beside him. Robb's foul mood hung over him like a storm cloud, he knew Clara was miserable too but had little energy to comfort her while he was trying his damndest not to kick his spurs into his horse and ride off to the nearest port to hop a ship. The two rounded the bend to bring White Harbor into view where his mother should have already been waiting. What they saw left them both in awe and terror.

"White Harbors fallen..."

Robb uttered in a shaky voice as his eyes stared at the glowing orange towers of the ancient keep and the city within the walls alight with flame. Robb exchanged a look with his sister before a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"Mother!"

Robb gasped in realization. He went to spur his horse forward when a massive creature stepped out onto the road, shadowed by at least twenty men all covered in furs and brandishing hand axes and cudgles. The giant loomed over the road like a angry mountain made of muscle. Behind him more men stepped out of the brush. Wildling tribes have always been a problem in the North and recently have begun attacking holdfasts during the past year. There were even rumors of a Wildling King but Robb never put much merit in them. You couldn't get ten wildlings together before they started killing each other. Given the count of the current group surrounding him and his sister he had been gravely mistaken.

"Your mother is dead boy but don't worry, you two will be joining her soon enough."

A bald man stepped out of the line of Wildlings in front, keen black eyes and a thick beard. He held himself a little straighter, a little bolder than the rest. The way he spoke sounded intelligent, not the guttral grunts and growls the wildling accent was known for.

"The fuck are you?"

Robb asked with a snarl. The man smiled calmly, almost charmingly.

"I am Mance Rayder, leader of The Free Folk, Wildling King."
Clara stood there, behind her brother, back to his, as they were surrounded. They knew the Wildlings were coming, that was the point of both of their marriages. How did they get here so quickly?

"Robb?" Came her small voice as she looked around, unsure of what to do. Robb was a skilled fighter, and she would only get in his way. If she could only run, get out of his way, that he could stand a chance. He would kill them all, and he'd be able to---

Suddenly, Clara felt a hand grip her wrist and, yanked her down, spun her around, making her back hit a solid form. A knife at her throat. She looked up to see a large man with bright orange hair, and mad wild eyes had a hold of her. She tried to move but he stopped her with a blade to her throat.

"Robb...."She peeped again, if only for him to turn enough to see the position she put him in. This man, if she could call him such a thing, would slit her throat if Robb so much as sneezed.

Gods, why was she always so weak.

She looked her brother in the eyes, sorrow and shame filling hers as rage filled his. She hung her head, mouthing the words. 'I'm sorry' knowing that even she told him to fight, he wouldn't risk her life and there was no way she could get away from this man, nor the giant that loomed over them.

They were doomed.

He heard the movement before he heard her words. A shuffle of feet, a large hand on a small wrist, her dressed rustling in the open air as she was pulled off horse back. Robb wheeled around, sword free from its scabbard but it might as well be made of wood for all the good it would do now.

Robb...

Her voice was little over a peep, meek and shaky with fear. They had her, a knife to her throat, one wrong move and she was dead. Robb could feel himself shaking with rage as he gripped his sword so tight his knuckles ran white.

"You fucking sons of whores!"

Robb swore in fury as he tossed his blade to the ground and dismounted. The wildlings chuckled as two approaced him, relieved him of the dagger at his hip before punching him in the gut. He stumbled but didn't fall. The club to the back of the skull put him down though. He fell to his knees as blinding white light flashed in his vision, he could taste blood in his mouth from the blow. He had to blink his vision clear so he could see Clara before him weeping and struggling against the wildlings grip.

"I heard you had a temper, looks like the stories were right Prince Stark."

Mance said as he casually strolled around in front of Robb. He turned and nodded to his men who set to beating Robb mercilessly. They rained punches and kicks, some even layed into him with clubs. After they had their fun they stopped at Mances word and hauled him back up to kneeling position. Robb could already feel one of his eyes had swollen shut. His nose was broken and each breath felt like fire in his lungs. Mance stood beside Clara, his eyes lingering on her as he carressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Shame, such a beautiful creature."

"Don't...Don't fucking touch her."

Robb growled through bloody teeth and blurry vision. Mance only chuckled and shook his head.

"I wasn't talking about her, boy."

It was then that Robb saw him, being dragged by the legs by two men. Several arrows jutting out of his back and one in his neck. His thick grey and black fur matted with blood. They dropped the massive dire wolf body in front of Robb, his lifeless eyes staring at the Stark he loved so dearly.

"Grey Wind?..."

Tears ran down Robb's face now freely, they stung his open wounds but he cared little. They let him go and he toppled on the body of his oldest friend. His fur still smelled of the pine trees he loved running through, his massive bulky muscles still for the first time. Robb rose his head slowly, eyes laced with hate as well as tears.

"You'll die for what you have done."

Robb swore in a rage only a dead man could know. Mance however seemed hardly bothered.

"Perhaps, but not by your hand. Take them to the ship, and put this one out."

A second blow to the back of the head and Robbs vision went black. His last thought before conciousness left him were of Grey Wind and the fear in Claras eyes.

Clara Snow watched as her brother for all of his fury was powerless to stop what was coming. He dismounted, and disarmed, only to be a struck over the head and brought to his knees.

"Cowards!" She cried as they hit Robb again, hot tears streaming down her face as he took it. "Leave him alone!" She cried over and over, struggling with the knife still at the throat, while the man's large hand gripped both of her wrists behind her back. The blade bit into the skin, she barely felt it as heat rose in her, as she watched her brother looked back at her, as if focusing on her was the only thing keeping him strong.

After a word from the Wildling King, and a single nod, they attacked her brother. "Fight them!" She screamed, though she was sure he couldn't hear. She didn't care if she got hurt, he didn't deserve to die like this, powerless because of her.

"You're cowards, you're all cowards!" She spat at them while the Wildling King moved to her, silencing her with an almost amused expression. His hand reached out, stroking her face, calling her beauitful and she whimpered,

It was at that moment that she saw that Robb was up again, kneeling but up. His face bloodied nose broken, his eye swollen shut.

Mance then spoke again, claiming not to be speak of her, and that was when she heard it. The awful dragging of dead weight.

She turned and to her horror she found, Mighty Grey Wind, covered in arrows, unmoving.

"Grey Wind...." She whimpered with wide eyes as more tears worked down her face. Memories crossed her thoughts suddenly, flashing before her eyes, as Grey Wind sat her bed when the rest of the keep was sleeping. His hot tongue brushing against her cheek, Her brothers laughing as she ran after the big wolf and his alabaster brother.

She looked at Robb, as he dropped over Grey Wind's lifeless body. Clara let off a painful cry, as she meekly struggled. She wanted so to go to her brother and his best friend.

There was more exchanging of words but Clara could barely hear them. It was all sound then, she saw Robb go down again, and be dragged off, while she was tied up. She didn't say anything, she didn't cry, she made no sound at all. The world moved around her, as she, her brother and his wolf was loaded on a ship and driving out to sea.

Robb lay beside her, still unconscious and she managed to cradle his head in her lap, resigning to their fate.
They were going to die.
She leaned down, kissing her brother's temple, not caring for the blood that touched her lips, nor that covered her hand as she stroked his deep red hair.

"I am so sorry, brother...." she told his unconscious form. "I am sorry I wasn't strong enough, I'm sorry I couldn't fight with you....we are going to die because of it..." She said, sobbing, her tears mingling with the blood that covered his face." I know am I only half your sister but it doesn't matter, you told me that....I love you, " She said softly, her voice a mere whisper, recalling all the memories of him she could. "Please, don't wake, go to the next world in peace." She said, as she felt the ship begin to slow. to a stop and he begin to stir. "No, please, don't wake..."She said. she would have smothered him if she could but it was too late, even if she could, he was already waking. Maybe he'll do it for her...

Robb blinked weakly, his eyes slowly showing him a world of darkness and sorrow, a world where death loomed on the tide. Clara held his head in her hands, resting tenderly on her lap. He barely noticed the tears streaming down his face.

"Clara..."

He croaked out, his voice hoarse with lungs still bruised from the trauma of the beating. She hushed him sweetly, running her hand over his head as a mother would soothe a child. The younger sister, comforting the older brother in their final moments.

"Alright you lot, time to go."

One of the wildlings said in a gruff tone as they marched over and hauled the two Starks to their feet. Robb was weak, his body beaten but still he resisted. Shouting curses, and insults and challenges as he pulled against the arms of his captors. It took three of them to beat him down again before he lost the will to fight. They dragged the sibling to the edge of the deck and showed them the ocean waves, crashing before them, welcoming them to their watery grave.

"Each Stark I have killed or plan to kill in their own way."

Mance began as he strode up beside them, looking out into the ocean.

"Your mother was beheaded, she is a queen after all. By this time your sister Sansa should no doubt be burning in her tower. Your brothers, the little ones, I'm going to hang over the walls to greet your forces as they arrive too late to rescue them. Your father will meet the same fate as his wife and Jon, the other brother... He will receive a stab wound for each member of his house before I slit his throat. But you..."

Mance paused as he turned to him, staring almost gleefully into his eyes.

"You deserved something special. I know how many of my men you've killed."

"Not enough."

Robb spat back. Mance chuckled and shook his head.

"Clearly, throw the wolf overboard."

Mance commanded and his men reacted. They hauled Grey Winds body to the edge and kicked the massive beast over the side. Robb wanted to shout out, jump after him, but he knew his friend was already dead. This was just to hurt him, and it was working.

"Now the girl."

They grabbed Clara by the hair, she shouted out in pain as the wildling drug her to the edge.

"NO! Clara! Mance, don't you-"

His words were cut off with her scream as she was shoved off the ship, bound by hands and feet. Robb's knees buckled and fell to his knees, his grief was too heavy to stand any longer. Mance seemed pleased as he loomed before him.

"Now... join your pack, wolf."

With that Mance kicked Robb square in the chest and off the deck of the ship. The ocean rose up to greet him, cold and bracing. It took him down, down into its embrace and Robb lost himself in the darkness of the sea.
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Clara watched as Robb fought, still to the bitter end he fought. Even as he was dragged to the edge of the ship. He still had enough fight to insult their killer. She turned as they tossed Grey Wind's empty body over. That was just cruel....

It was enough that when she was grabbed, she too fought. She grunted as they grabbed her hair, and dragging her away from her brother. She wanted to reach for him, kiss him one more time before it was over.

"You'll pay for this.... I swear by the Old Gods and the New, you won't get away with---"

Suddenly, the world spun, as she was thrown over, water rushing up to her, swallowing her like a great beast of legend.


All there was, was darkness, the rush of water. She held her breath, she didn't want to fight death, she knew it was coming but her body betrayed her, delaying the inevitable, it was cruel. She wanted to just sleep, but her body wouldn't let her.


The waves began to rage, tossing Clara around with all it's might, wiping her body left and right, the beating against her like the wildings beat her brother.

She was losing breath, and consciousness, fast. She focused her mind on how she remembered everyone. The smiling faces of her siblings, her father, her thoughts lingering on Robb just before darkness took her.


Am I Dead

Gasping, Clara Snow gripped the sand beneath her. Water gurgled up her throat, and she turned over, choking it out. She took in huge gulps of breath, the air rushing into her lungs felt like swallowing needles but her body was grateful for it.

"I'm Alive." She thought as she breathed in deep, looking up at the large moon that hung above her. She rose up, looking to her left and to her right. All there was sand. She got to her feet, rope still clung to her ankles but her hands were free, and the ropes were loose. The tide must have broke her free. Hoping Robb was just as fortunate.

"Robb!" She called, her voice hoarse and tired, but she didn't care." Robb!" She called again, stumbling in the sand as it shifted beneath her feet.

She didn't know how long she walked the edge of shoreline but she walked until exhaustion brought her to her knees.

She hung her head. "Robb...."She cried, unable to do anything else. It wasn't fair, how did she yet live, when all of her sibling, her father, didn't. She didn't deserve to live without them.

She gripped the sand, as all of their faces crossed her thoughts.

Rickon and his missing teeth. Bran waving to her from atop the tree he'd climbed. Arya, smiling through her dirt covered face. Sansa, and her long red hair. Jon and his soft adoring smile and Robb...

Clara Snow's heart clenched before it broke. She curled into the sand. "Please....Kill me..."She begged the Gods.

As if her prayers were answered, a man came sauntered up to her.

"Look at this." He said, looking down at the broken girl, "It must be my lucky day." He said, kneeling before her. Clara Snow said nothing, she just let her tears fall, she sat up, pulling her knees to her chin.

"What is such a pretty girl, doing all the way out here, alone."

"Dying...." Clara said and the man chuckled. "You look--"He gave her a once over, her dress had been torn, all sorts of ways, her corset was basically the only thing keeping her modest.
"--Healthy to me." He said and Clara didn't response.

"Why don't you come with me, and I'll make you feel alive."He said and reached for her and she jerked away. "Let me die." She said, and the man shook his head, she heard more footfalls her.

"Oy, this girl said she's dying, " He said and she turned to see other men, approaching. "Is that so?" said another man. "She looks healthy to me."
"A little wet but that's how I like 'em" said another. Clara Snow stood. "Go away." She said and started walking the way the men came.

"I thought you were dying." said one of the men.

"Clearly, I've already died, and this is hell." She hissed, too angry to be afraid.

"This ain't hell love, not if I'm looking at you." said another.

Clara turned up her nose. " It must be, looking at you." She said with a surprising amount of callous that she was not known for.

The other men laughed while that one didn't seem pleased at all. He snatched her by the shoulder.

"I was going to be nice."

Clara whirled on him, amber eyes burning. "So was I." She hissed in a way that would make Robb proud, and kicked him hard in his manhood, sending him to the ground.

Surprising herself, she looked at the other men, who all looked at her in shock. She didn't wait for it to turn to angry. Again, against her own wishes, her body turned her around, ignoring the exhaustion for now, she took off, dashing through the line of trees toward the sound of people.

She hadn't noticed it before, but the place was alive, and she followed the sound. She quickly found herself in a bustling city. It smelled of satly sea air, cooked meats, and rum. There was even music, laughter.

Where in Seven Hells was she?

Or more correctly, Which of the Seven Hells was she?

She kept running, ducking and dodging people as she navigated the alleys. She was nearly free, until she tripped over a cobblestone and sailed across the ground.

She didn't even have time to pull herself up as she was grabbed and her body thrown over a barrel, a hand at the back of her neck, holding her there.

"I'll show you hell, girl." a man hissed, which one she didn't know, but it was all she could do but kicked and fight. She had no more tears left to cry.

His hand went to the hem of her dress and tore it up the middle, olive legs bare for him.

She tried to fight it but his hand only forced her head down.
Suddenly, the hand was gone. She stood up just enough time to see a blonde woman wielding a large piece of drift wood.

two of the men were down and the others were looking at the woman in horror.

"You chose the wrong place for this." the woman bellowed. "C'mon Eleanor, we're just-"

"I know every woman on this island, except her, which means she's not a whore, which means you were about to rape her, Get the fuck out of here. I don't want to see you anywhere nears this place again." She said and the men scurried off. Clara Snow looked on in awe as the woman set down the piece of wood that she cleared struck the men with.

"What's your name?" the woman asked, approaching her carefully. "Clara, Clara Snow." she answered. "I'm Eleanor Guthrie, Are you hurt?"

Clara Snow shook her head. "That's good, why don't you come inside, I'll get you something to eat."

"I have no money."

"It's alright, we'll discuss that later, you look like you've been through hell."

"you've no idea."
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The world was darkness, the sky was dark, there was no land, the sea was endless black. The only sound was the crashing of the waves. Robb floated out there on a raft of death endlessly until he saw it rise from the depths, a ship bearing a flag of white crossed swords and a skull on a black field. The ship itself was made of the most stunning ivory and on it, men of stone guarded her deck.

The sun shown down on Robb's face, beaten by the sea and coated in it's salty spray he groaned as life lingered. His lips were cracked and bleeding, all he wanted was a sip of cold, clean water. The sea offered nothing but death. His hands gripped fur, fur he knew well since he was a boy. The body of Grey Wind, fat and bloating served as his life raft, carrying him to no where. He closed his eyes and prayed for death to unite him with the family he'd lost.

The cannons echoed in the darkness, their muzzle flashes were momentary glimpses of the battle taking place aboard the ship. Ivory men raced about with guns and cutlasses in hand. Silent orders were being shouted out to defend the vessel. The enemy rose from the deep as the ship had, black as ebony they came made of bone and malice. Skeletons, all armed as the sailors were began to climb the sides of the ivory vessel for their prize.

Robb's eyes shot open as his body throbbed in pain. The sun cooked him, the sea was his only respite from the heat. What he once hated he began to love, it's cooling touch like a lovers kiss. Grey Winds corpse ever there, his lifeless eyes still staring, pointing the way ahead. Robb let his head rest on the dead wolfs side as consciousness abandoned him, just like the gods had, just like everyone had.

The captain fired, his pistol in his hand as he defiantly stood his ground against the undead horde. The skeletons swarmed the deck, killing anyone who got in their way. Ivory men fell in droves as the skeletons took the ship. Their prize in reach they climbed the mast to reach the banner but a single ivory man remained, climbing as well. Both reaching in that final moment for that black sail.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Robb blinked wearily, his eyes taking in a strange place. A tiny hut that smelled of the sea. He could feel the heat of a fire and smell fish stew nearby. He lay in a tiny bed, bandaged and tended to by a skilled hand. He growled but managed to sit up.

"The names Flint. You're on Nassua. You need to eat, here."

An old man appeared before Robb, a small bowl of fish stew in his hand. Robb stared at him blankly so Flint set the bowl on the small table beside the bed.

"A spoon and a knife, for the bigger bits. I like my soup chunky, how bout you?"

The old man asked kindly as if he was talking to an old friend.

"I died."

Robb muttered suddenly, his mind still trying to come to grips with the life he still possessed. Flint merely chuckled, as he went back to the stew pot.

"Near enough. I found you on the beach three days ago, next to dead beside the body of some great beast. Took it's head for a souvenir. Never seen a thing like that. There, see?"

He pointed past Robb. He turned and there it was, the skull of a dire wolf, his dire wolf. Grey Winds hollow eyes seemed to look at him. He could almost hear his hungry panting, even now. The old man kept muttering but Robb couldn't hear him. On shaky legs he got to his feet and reached out to the skull. His fingers, touching the cold bone felt foreign and wrong but there was a familiarity there. This was all that was left of his old friend. Robb turned and grabbed the knife off the bed side table.

"I found you with some odd clothes, much too warm to be from anywhere nearby, where are you-"

His words were cut off as Robb jammed the knife into his throat. The old man gurgled out a surprised groan as blood poured over Robb's hand. He let the body drop before he collapsed back on the bed. He rested for near the rest of the day, eating fish stew before he left. He took with him what gold the man had, which wasn't much, his boots, his clothes and an old pistol before pausing to look at Grey Winds skull on last time. Unwilling to leave without some reminder Robb pulled the dire wolfs teeth out one by one, fashioned them into a necklace on a leather strap before leaving the hut for good.

Nassau proved to be a haven for pirates and their like, men who enjoyed a stiff drink, coin and killing. Robb wanted nothing more than to drink, and kill and whore his mind into numbness. The first tavern he found he sat down and ordered some rum. As the barkeep slid him his bottle he asked his name.

"Flint... the names Flint."

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Character Portrait: Eleanor Guthrie Character Portrait: Clara Snow
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Eleanor made her way to her bar, the bartender given her a flagon of rum to which she rose to her lips, thankful for the liquid reprieve.
It was a long day, Idiots after idiot came to her begging for more guns, better ships, without turning a good enough profit, she'd gotten word that there was a pirate out there, no ship to his name, killing men, for sport it seemed, a few of the men killed had been good workers. She didn't need this. She'd sent her men to find him, but she wouldn't hold her breath. The only good new she got was from the Crimson Lady. It was raids like this that Eleanor lived for. She hated silks but silks from Anansai, hell wood from Anansai would turn such a high profit, she would out do her late father.
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That was his problem. He never saw the bigger picture. He thought going after a Fae Vessel wasn't worth the risk, but she saw that it was very worth it. Traders from all over would flock to get their wares, if they could start textile factories, using whatever Anansai silk was made of, she could branch out of Nassau.


"Penny for your thoughts." came a soft sweet voice, pulling the cup from her lips. Eleanor smiled. "Max....I need that."
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"No, you don't." said the girl. She was young, warm brown skin, deep amber eyes that made Eleanor's heart race, Max wasn't her real name, but she seemed to prefer. "You need to talk?" She asked, and Eleanor sighed. Max, taking matters in to her own hands, took her by the hand and lead her into Eleanor's bedroom.
Max closed the door, the world behind her, while Eleanor sat on the bed. Max sauntered up to her, touching her face sweetly.
"Talk to me." She urged, her voice just over a whisper.
"There's so much...I don't know where to begin." She told her and Max pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. "How about the beginning." She said, as Eleanor slipped her arms around Max's tiny waist, and did as she was asked. She told her about the Fae ship, there was a light in Max's eyes then, a spark of what once was. Max hadn't always been the woman she was today. She was sweeter, she was still sweet now but only by closed doors, she was softer, her skin was once porcelain, now it was ivory and steel. She told her about the man and how it was all just too much sometimes.

Max smiled softly at her. "The Crimson Lady will get those ships, she always comes through, and your men will find that man, Nassau is large but not so large. He leaves a trail of bodies, he'll be found and he'll answer to you."

Eleanor kissed her softly. " What would I do without you." She asked her and Max laughed.

"Age." She said and the two woman laughed before moving to the bed. They kissed and touched but that was all, Eleanor was sure the girl was still a maiden depsite how much she loved her.

After a while, there was a knock at Eleanor's door.

"Ms. Guthrie, We found him, Flint." called a man from behind the door. Eleanor shoot up, while Max awoke slowly. " Alright, I'll be down, keep him here." She said and looked at Max. "What did I tell you." She said, sleepily, adorably rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"I know, you're always right, but you have to go, I have to dress and so do you." She said and Max held out her arms to her one more time and Eleanor gratefully slipped into her arms for another kiss.
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Afterward, Max slipped out of the room to start her own work, while Eleanor bathed and dressed. She would have an earful for this Flint character.

The setting changes from nassau to The New World

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"Oh no, no, no, no ye don't. Flint I told ye yer now welcome here n'more. I"

The punch came as a suprise to the old barkeep, Robb wasn't really sure why though, he should have expected it. The sucker punch floored the old who tried to stop Robb from entering the tavern. When the barkeep hit the floor the patrons already well into their drinks let up a roar of laughter as Robb stepped over the moaning man in pain as he clutched his jaw. Robb took a seat at the bar and grabbed one of the many bottles over the counter. The barkeep ran out, leaving Robb to drink in peace. It wasn't long however until that peace was interupted.

"You Flint?"

A voice, thick and deep came from behind him. Robb growled under his breath as he knocked back the nearly empty bottle of rum.

"Whose asking?"

Robb grunted in return. Four men in total took up positions around Robb, all armed, all agents of the queen of Nassua.

"Eleanor Guthrie."

The big man said with a cruel smile.

"See this is Eleanor Guthries island, and Eleanor Guthrie-"

"Fuck Eleanor Guthrie, fuck this island, and fuck you."

Robb snapped with an angry snarl. There was a still, eerie calm in the tavern, Robb sniffed the air and could smell the blood to come. Robb moved first, spinning in his chair with his pistol in hand. He fired into the big man's belly who dropped to the floor with a smoking whole in his gut. The three men surged at Robb who dove out of his chair to avoid the bullet aimed for his head. Robb rose in a roll and hurled a boarding axe through the air that buried itself in one mans face before he drew his cutlass and engaged the last two pirates. It was almost laughably easy how he took their lives. He drove the assualt on the two men, which took them by surprise. He opened ones throat with the tip of his sword before he drove the length of his blade in the last mans heart.

Robb ripped his blade free and let the body dropp. He took several deep, snarling breaths before turning to the rest of the tavern patrons. They all knew, they'd all seen and now there was no where he could hide from Guthrie. Given that, he was done hiding. Robb looted the bodies for what valuables they had before he walked off out of the tavern. As he stalked through the streets towards Guthries place. Those he past gave him space, most didn't know who he was. Some knew the tale of Flint, the mad man from the beach, others just saw a dangerous looking man with long curly unkept hair, a wild ginger beard and soiled, tattered clothes.

He reached Eleanors place quickly, the men knew who he was quickly. He entered to a slew of pistols and blades being drawn. Robb growled but put up his hands in surrendor.

"Easy lads, the Mrs called for me so I came."

They disarmed him and sat him at the bar to wait. Robb busied himself with strong drink as he waited. Scanning the room there were pirates from every major earner on Nassua here. The Revenge, The Sandsnake, The Green Arrow, The Scarlet Speedster and all the rest. Every ship worth knowing was represented in the patrons here. No wonder why Eleanor owned this island. Everyone who was anyone owed up to her and she allowed them to earn in return putting her squarely on the throne of Nassua.

As he waited something caught Robb's eyes. Olive skin, a head of curls, the perfect sway of her hips and a curvy frame. She passed and he reached out pulling her into his lap.

"Where you headed love?"

He barely got the words out before his bearded jaw dropped and he froze at the eyes staring back at him.

The setting changes from the-new-world to Nassau

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Character Portrait: Eleanor Guthrie Character Portrait: Clara Snow Character Portrait: Robb Stark
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Clara Snow died two years ago, and from her ashes, Max was born. Max was strong, she could handle the looks and the occasional touches from men without so much as a blink, where Clara Snow would hide behind her brothers. Max knew how to use her looks to her advantage where Clara Snow, knew nothing. Max found love, where Clara Snow found pain, Max was clever, Clara Snow was naive.

Clara Snow had to die. Clara Snow couldn't survive in Nassau. Max, thrived in it.
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She navigated the tavern with practiced ease she gathered mugs of empty or half empty rum, She cleared the bottles and delivered drinks.

She looked up, idly as a rough, blood covered man entered the tavern. She ignored him. and finished clearing the tables. Her mind wandered to Eleanor. She worried about her. She had taken this whole place on her shoulders after her father left her, in her words anyway. Clara was never foolish to think that Eleanor's father left her this place, the way she spoke about him. She didn't know how the place fell into her lap but she knew it wasn't just given to her. Eleanor was much to headstrong for that. She earned this place.

"Where you headed, love."
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Suddenly, Clara's hips were grabbed, and she was pulled into the lap of a foul smelling man, deep ginger locks that reached the nape of his neck, a thick crimson beard, that reeked of rum, his clothes tattered and torn, covered in blood. Clara turned up her nose in disgust and her hand came up, the back of her hand primed to strike.

"No where with---" That's when she saw him. Those eyes. Piercing blue eyes that gaze back at her in shock.

"It can't be..." Her heart pounding in her ears as she looked at him. A ghost. a demon sent to haunt her. Just when she was beginning to feel some semblance of happiness. the Gods teased her with this apparition.
"No n-no....It's not true....it's not real....It's not you."
She shot to her feet, stumbling back and back into a chair, crashing it until a table. She managed to stay upright, but she bolted. Running from the ghost that was haunting her.

She ran up the overlooking stairs and passed Eleanor to whom she didn't even see. She closed the door to her room that Eleanor had been so kind as to give her to live in while she worked. "Max?"
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She closed the door with her back, and covered her face, sliding down the door. She closed her eyes, she felt the pressure of tears but they stopped long ago. They stopped when she lost him.

"Robb Stark is dead...."She told herself. She had to, or this would drive her insane.

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Eleanor watched as Max ran off into her room. She decided whatever it was. It could wait until after this Flint was dealt with.
She descended the stairs as her men approached the man that was oddly, looking toward where Max had ran off.

"So." She said, not liking the way he was looking after her. "You're the one that's been terrorizing my Island." She said. "Flint." She said. "Come in to my office, we've alot to discuss." She said and made her way into the office, her men ushering him, behind her. She took a seat behind her desk, and looked up at him.

"Take a seat and explain to me why I shouldn't have my men fill you full of stones and cast you into the ocean?"

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Robb was in shock, his mind was a storm of past rage and loss. He felt hands ushering him forward and up a flight of stairs, he heard voices speaking to him, questioning him but they might as well have been leagues away. He'd seen her, he knew he had, he'd felt her skin and smelled the scent of her midnight curls. She was real or he was mad.

"Take a seat and explain to me why I shouldn't have my men fill you full of stones and cast you into the ocean?"

Robb blinked, he was seated in a chair in a well used office. Scrolls and maps littered a large wooden desk in the center of the room. Nautical equipment hung on the walls and atop the counter tops. He tried to focus on the woman seated at the other end of the desk, the woman who owned everyone and everything in Nassau but all he could think of was Clara, his sanity depended on it.

"Who was... that woman?..."

The savage growl gone, the hungry snarl no where to be seen. His voice was earnest, confused and shaky like a man teetering on the brink of madness.

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Of all the things she thought he'd say, that was not one of them.
"Who was... that woman?..." He said. There was something in the way he spoke. A spark of jealousy bubbled up in Eleanor as she realized he indeed was looking at Max. Whoever he was, upset her greatly. She wouldn't have that at all.

Eleanor rose, leaning toward him, from behind her desk. "What did you do to her?" She hissed." You've killed so many men, that I can forgive within reason, but if you hurt her, I will slit your throat were you sit." She said.
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"He didn't hurt me...." Eleanor looked up to see Max walking in. That was like her, no man ever entered her office without knocking, Max, seem not to care for such etiquette, and typically Eleanor didn't care, but she wanted her far from this Flint man as possible.
"Max...."
"He looked like someone....I just had to see..."Her voice was breaking and all Eleanor wanted to do was hold her. Eleanor never shows her affection for Max, least she be used against her but that was getting harder and harder to do, with her standing there, wanting to cry but physically unable to.
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Eleanor watched her as she started at the back of Flint's head. "Alright....Come. You don't move." She said then turned to Flint, warning in her eyes. Max took careful steps forward, giving him and his chair wide berth, as she rounded him, and stood near her desk. She closed her hand over her mouth.

"Max?" Eleanor called. Max shook her head. "How?" She asked. "Why do you look so much like him?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"Like Who Max?" Eleanor asked, so used to being the one in control, she asked the questions before Flint could even register them. He seemed in just as much shock as Max.

"My brother.....He looks like my brother...."

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Her voice froze him, it was her voice, he knew it. Older, stronger, even wiser but it was her. He'd never forget the little girl who used to chase him around the courtyard of Winterfell or the young woman who cried on his shoulder after her first heart break. "He didn't hurt me...." His body was practically shaking, too afraid to turn and look at her, fear gripping his heart. Guthrie spoke but he couldn't hear her voice any more, Clara's filled his mind. "He looked like someone....I just had to see..." He needed to see, wanted to see. He imagined scooping up the little girl he remembered from home, covered in snow and giggling. She moved towards him, each foot fall felt like an eternity as she circled him. Robb couldn't bring himself to look at her, the shame was too great. Sitting there, covered in filth, mostly blood looking near a savage he couldn't look at the woman he'd killed.

She stood before him and his eyes finally rose. His eyes, still as icy blue as ever, hers were deep warm amber just as he remembered.

"How?"

She asked.

"Why do you look so much like him?"

Robb couldn't hold her gaze any longer, allowing his eyes to drop to the floor as she stared at him in horror.

"Like Who Max?"

Guthrie asked.

"My brother.....He looks like my brother...."

Robb was trembling as forced himself to look at her again, look at the sister he failed. She was so beautiful, grown since last he'd seen her but grown. She had adopted the look of Nassau and it suited her, finally she'd broken the shell of her youth and a woman had been born. He almost smiled if his grief hadn't been so great.

"Clara..."

He said, his voice less steady than a leaf in late Autumn. He could feel wetness in the back of his eyes but he ignored them. His hand reflexively went to the necklace of teeth at his throat, the last remnants of Grey Wind. The dire wolf always gave him strength in life, even in death he supported him.

"I... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry I failed you."

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Clara's mind was spinning. He looked so much like him. The red hair, those blue eyes. She had to be mistaken.

"Clara." She jumped at the name. No one on Nassau called her Clara. No one knew she was Clara Snow of Winterfell. Here, she was Max.

It had to be him. Behind the him the dirt, the blood the smell. "I... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry I failed you."
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Clara Snow shook her head. "You didn't fail me, Oh Gods, You didn't fail me, I failed you." She said, touching the scar on her throat. The reminder of her failure. "I was so weak, I made it impossible for you to fight." She said, and moved forward, slowly, until she stood over him. She was 15 last she saw him, 17 nearly 18 now, she was still smaller then most, but taller then she'd had been.

She reached out, her hand shakily reaching for his face, afraid her hand would pass through the specter like it had some many times in her dreams. It didn't. Her hand pressed softly against his cheek, tracing the shape of his face. One of the first faces she learned. Beyond her father's. It was Robb who looked after her. Jon did too but Robb was the eldest and Jon was only slightly younger. Robb would sit with her in her room, come when she cried, played with her in the snow. Father said told her how much she'd been like Robb when he was child. That's how he knew for sure that she was truly his daughter.

"It's really you." She said, her voice so small, she could barely hear it herself. "Robb...." She said, haven't said his name in so long, if felt foreign.

Wetness touched her cheeks, and she gasped, wiping the tears. She'd stopped being able to cry that night on the beach, despite having so many reasons too.

Perhaps Clara Snow wasn't dead after all, just sleeping, and her brother's voice, woke her, bringing back her tears with him.


Overwhelmed by it all, she turned to Eleanor, her face going pale.

"Look....Tears...."She said, before her eyes rolled up in her head and she fell backwrd. She didn't fear, her brother was there, he would catch her.

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Character Portrait: Eleanor Guthrie Character Portrait: Clara Snow Character Portrait: Robb Stark
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"You didn't fail me, Oh Gods, You didn't fail me, I failed you." Robb blinked at her words, utter confusion gripping his mind. She couldn't have failed him, it wasn't her duty to protect him, it was his to protect her. He was her older brother, he had to keep her safe yet she blamed herself for what happened. She reached for him, her hands trembling like the rest of his body was. He looked at her, his blue eyes, the only part of himself recognizable to the sibling she'd known. He was afraid, truly afraid, that her hand would reach him and he'd wake up. It wouldn't have been the first cruel dream he'd had of the like.

Her touch was soft, soft as silk. She traced his features, as if seeing him for the first time. Her fingers trickled over the dirt, the blood and got lost in his thick fiery beard. He took in a shuddering breath as a single tear left his eye. She was really there, two years of hell and he had not lost everything. His sister yet lived and if nothing else that was worth living for, it was worth fighting for.

"It's really you."

She said, her voice little more than a whisper.

"Robb..."

She spoke his name as if it tasted strange on her lips, as if it was somememory from a dream. To hear it was even stranger, Robb Stark wasn't just a name, he was a dead man. Robb Stark was prince of Winterfell, son of Eddard Stark. That man died off the shore of White Harbor two years ago. He fell into the sea and what was born from the waves was someone else though perhaps, he thought as he looked at the sister he thought he'd lost, who he was now didn't have to be so different.

She swayed on her feet after she turned to the Queen of Nassau, he'd seen this before and knew what came next. He was on his feet before her own gave out. She fell but not far, tumbling softly into her brothers strong arms. He looked at her lovingly, a feeling he thought he'd lost the ability to feel.

"There now, I've got you... and I'll never let you fall again."

The room was silent, Guthrie staring at him, Robb holding his sister in his arms. He took a breath and met Eleanor's understandibly confused stare.

"Where can I put her? She needs to sleep this off, and I have to convince you not to kill me because now... I want to live."

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Eleanor watched in confusion. There was no way that his man, the man that had been killing viciously her hard working men, this man, was the same man Max....Clara Snow, had been searching for two years.

She watched as Max--Clara turned to her, her fingers wet with fresh tears. She hadn't been able to cry, even when Eleanor told her there had been no bodies recovered from the ocean, even when she was attacked and nearly raped outside of Noonan's. No, Clara wasn't able to cry, yet, there she was. The impossible was possible. That much she could see now.

Clara wavered, and before Eleanor could move to save her, Flint---Robb Stark, her brother, was on his feet, cradling her before she fell.

He was so tender with her, in a way that made Eleanor oddly jealous. She could never be that to her, she could never be the comfort that he was to her, how could she? She was part of the world that Clara never wanted, Robb Stark was part of her old life, a life Eleanor knew she wanted back, but didn't have the heart to ask for.

"Where can I put her? She needs to sleep this off, and I have to convince you not to kill me because now... I want to live."

Eleanor looked back at him, snapping out of her confusion.

"This way." She said, and went to the large door that connected her office to Eleanor's bedroom.

She pulled the large doors open, and gestured to the bed, the sheets still disheveled from that morning, the bed they'd just shared the night prior and many nights beyond. Eleanor got a cold feeling that that kiss she received would be the last.

She watched as Robb Stark set his sister down, pulling the sheets over her, the way she'd always liked, right over her chest, but not at her neck.
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"I was going to have you beaten in the streets....." She told him, her ire not abated by the tender look in his eyes that lingered on Clara.

"But I can't very well do that now, can I?" She said, and gestured for him to meet her back in her office, she left to door open so they could both keep an eye on her. Clara always hated sleeping alone, or at least waking up with no one there when they had been when she was sleeping. It seemed Robb knew this.

"Those men, worked for me, what they earned, helps me runs this place, provided and care for Ma--Clara....you jeopardized the both of us..." She said, taking a seat behind her desk, her voice was low as Clara was such a light sleeper.

"So, How do you intended on repaying me for the lives you took..."

The setting changes from nassau to The New World

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Character Portrait: Eleanor Guthrie Character Portrait: Clara Snow Character Portrait: Robb Stark
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The setting changes from the-new-world to Nassau

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Robb sat back in his seat, his sister asleep in the next room. While his eyes were unfocused as he stared at Guthrie's desk, his mind hadn't been clearer in two years. He had a goal, a mission, a duty again and that was because he had family again. For the first time in a long time he wasn't just a man wandering through life waiting for death. He may not be the man who feasted with Northern Lords or prayed in an ancient gods wood anymore but he wasn't the beast he'd been for the past two years either.

"I'll work it off."

Robb said suddenly. The clarity and assurdness in his voice suprised both Eleanor Guthrie and himself equally. It was a simple plan but judging from what he knew of the woman sitting across from him he saw no reason it shouldn't afford him what he wanted.

"Everyone on this island knows about the Queen of Nassau, they say you're a business woman who'se always willing to work out a deal if the terms are right. I've got no coin but I can work. Those men I killed, we both know they weren't your friends, they were assests and assests have a cost. Add that plus the work you would have got out of them but didn't since I took em from you and that's my debt. I'll be your man, serve in whatever way you deem fit. You keep whatever wage you'd normally pay out. If you put me with a crew whenever we score a haul, my share goes directly to you minus living expenses."

Robb could see the wheels in her mind turning, making the calculations even if she hadn't spoken a word. He was being fair, more than fair. He could have offered her a penalty price, some arbitrary amount of coin and call it even. He didn't want that. If he was going to earn enough to support himself and Clara in the future, or Max as she was going by now, he would need to earn and you didn't earn on Nassau without Eleanor Guthrie. He was going to prove himself a fair hand, a hard worker and a good earner.

"I'm a good fighter Guthrie, a good killer, don't need to convince you of that. I'm a fair shot and know my way around a rigging line. These past two years I've served on near half the ships in your bay. It's a fair deal..."

Robb paused, his attention flicking to his sleeping sister.

"I've failed her once, I don't plan on doing that again."

He turned back to the woman on the other side of the desk. The savage seemed removed and in his palce sat a determined but equally dangerous man willing do whatever was neccesary to protect and provide for the only family he had left.

"What d'ya say?"

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Character Portrait: Captain Robyn Sheva, The Crimson Lady Character Portrait: Eleanor Guthrie Character Portrait: Tytos Ranye Character Portrait: Clara Snow Character Portrait: Robb Stark
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"The promise of the riches that await them should satisfy any men you hire. If we should fail, however, we will not have the coin to satisfy them..."
Robyn sighed. She knew this, but it needed to be done. Fighting was hard enough, but they would come up against Faeries. All she knew was stories of them, she knew that they were allergic to iron, so with good enough steel, and in the right hands. Fighting them shouldn't be so difficult.

"I have one request. I would have us avoid harming the Drake Royal Family. The Sea Vultures are unusually loyal to the current king and provoking their fleet would not be wise. In addition, Moloch is the only one keeping my scheming sister and my mad, former king contained."

Robyn rolled her eyes. She had little care for politics, if it was a ship, she'd take it, his family or anyone else's be damned. She wasn't in the habit of making promises.

"In a fairer world, we would be cutting his head off and my sister..." He said and she looked at the half man. He seemed to be at odds with himself, he wanted his sister dead but not at the same time. It was written all over his deformed face.
He rose his flask

"To our most audacious raid in years." He said and she gave a nod. "Audacious indeed."

She said, raising an invisible glass.

"I'm heading inland, try not to embarrass anyone while I'm gone, including yourself." She said, before rising from her chair and making her way off of the ship to search for her latest crew member.

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"I'll work it off."

Robb said and Eleanor looked at him oddly. She hadn't expected that. She expected something that would take Clara from her, promises of safety and things like that. She hadn't expected him to want to work for her.
"Go on..."She urged.

"Everyone on this island knows about the Queen of Nassau, they say you're a business woman who'se always willing to work out a deal if the terms are right. I've got no coin but I can work. Those men I killed, we both know they weren't your friends, they were assests and assests have a cost. Add that plus the work you would have got out of them but didn't since I took em from you and that's my debt. I'll be your man, serve in whatever way you deem fit. You keep whatever wage you'd normally pay out. If you put me with a crew whenever we score a haul, my share goes directly to you minus living expenses." He said and she nodded, musing this with a purse of her lips. He was a skilled fighter, probably more so now that he had something to fight for. He didn't set a price, he left that to her to decide which meant he wasn't planning to take Clara away, he planned to stay, which meant he earn enough for him and Clara, and with that all coming into pocket, she could provide for Clara while he was away.

"I'm a good fighter Guthrie, a good killer, don't need to convince you of that. I'm a fair shot and know my way around a rigging line. These past two years I've served on near half the ships in your bay. It's a fair deal..." He said, still pleading his case, when in her mind, she'd already accepted his offer, the only problem is, there was only hard labor here on the island, not enough to make a decent living...

She watched his eyes, as they moved to Clara's sleeping form, her exhaustion seemed to abate but she still slept, having turned in her sleep. Eleanor failed to hid her smile.

"I've failed her once, I don't plan on doing that again." He said and she looked at him.

The savage was gone, the man, the brother she'd heard so much about, he looked her in the eye.

"What d'ya say?"

She looked at him and sat back. Who would be insane enough to let this man on to their ship.


Bang, Bang BAng!

"Eleanor, open up."


Eleanor chuckled. Her timing was perfect.

"Come in, Captain, I was just thinking of you."

The door opened and in stepped the Crimson Lady. With all the swagger she was known for, confidence that could fill an empty room. "Well, you would be the first." She said with a kittenish grin, but it faded. "What is that smell?" She asked and Eleanor shushed her. Robyn looked to see the doors open. "Oh, you're kitten's sleeping." She said and chuckled. "Tired her out again, I see, you do have a way with your---"
Eleanor cleared her throat, stopping her before she revealed more than she ought to. "Captain, this is, Max's brother, and he goes by Flint." She said gesturing to the man, she figured it was best not to tell her who Clara and Robb were, less she hold them ransom.

Robyn rose a dark brow. "This--" She said, tossing a thumb in his direction as if he were merely a statue, not something that could react to being spoke about. "This is the Flint, the Man Without Fear, everyone's been going on about." She asked and Eleanor nodded. "The very one."
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Robyn looked at him, sideways as if he were a something she didn't understand. "And somehow, this, is related to that." She pointed to Clara, still sleeping. I've seen her, there's no way for a number of reasons." She said and Eleanor rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"That's beside the point, Captain, I have an offer to make you."

"Oh, well, I'm listening." She said, all ears.

"You need men, for this mission of yours, right?"

Robyn looked at her, and Eleanor could see that she was already putting it together,

"Oh no, no no, Not going to happen, you want me to put the Hobo from Hell on my ship?"

Eleanor shrugged.

"I don't need to downsize, Eleanor." Robyn said, shaking her head.

"I know, I know, believe me, I wouldn't ask you this, but he works for me now, anything he earns goes to me."

Robyn looked at him skeptically. "What's stopping him from killing my men in their sleep."

"Her." Eleanor nodded toward Clara.

"You're using the girl for ransom, devilish of you, I like it."

"No, it's not that. He offered it to me." She said honestly, and Robyn sighed and looked to the man. Eleanor could see her sizing him up.

"Alright, Flint, What can you do?" She asked, folding her arms over her ample chest, and shifting her hip in a way that tantalized the brain. If it weren't for Max, Eleanor would have a hard time not wanting that woman, herself.

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In she walked, the myth, the legend, The Crimson Lady. He'ld heard the stories, everyone had heard the stories. Pirates, merchants and sailors the world over had heard about the woman who ruled the seas through blood and fear. The woman who showed less mercy than the kraken. Some thought her a demon, some vampiress who lusted after the blood of the living. They told of her malice, her cruelty and the legions of the dead she left in her wake. What they didn't tell of was her beauty. Odd fact Robb found as it was the first thing he noticed when she walked in. Image

Subtle curves that teased with every swaying step, dark skin kissed by the sun, a smile more dangerous than any legend. This woman could sink fleets with a look and Robb felt the waves lapping at his deck.

"Oh, you're kitten's sleeping."

She said and chuckled, he enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

"Tired her out again, I see, you do have a way with your---"

She said, snapping Robb's attention away from her to his sister then Madame Guthrie. Eleanor hushed the captian but the moment was enough and Robb caught it. He was suprised to say the least, Clara grew up dreaming of some bold knight to sweep her off her feet, Robb never imagined that knight would be a woman. Yet much has changed, he knew that most of all. Eleanor introduced him to the captain like a rabid dog she'd found roaming the streets, he couldn't say he'd been much less if he was being honest.

"This is the Flint, the Man Without Fear, everyone's been going on about."

With a thumb at him. He couldn't help but smirk softly beneath his ginger beard. The Man Without Fear there had been worse handles and in some odd way it made him proud that she'd heard of him. He sat in silence as Eleanor set to selling him to Captain Robyn Sheva, for a second time he was suprised. Robb had assumed she'd put him to work on the island, not trusting him at sea to return and continue to pay his debt. Perhaps use him as a cats paw for her enemies. Yet not only does she give the sea to him again, his new love, she gave him a place the most infamous pirate vessel in the world. Though all Eleanor Guthrie could offer was an opportunity. Sheva was captain and the final say so rested with her.

"Alright Flint, what can you do?"

Captain Sheva posed the question to Robb directly and for the first time he spoke. Getting to his feet he met her gaze evenly. He noticed her eyes were a swirling mix of black and brown, like warm darkness.

"Put a sword in my hand, a gun that's worth it's weight and I'll kill every man in this building."

His bluntness seemed to amuse her.

"The debt of life I owe is proof of that, you can ask Mum if you will."

He said with a shrug.

"What I can do, Captain Sheva, is tell you one thing for certain. Put me on your ship and I'll be the most dangerous weapon you have to bring to bear against whatever hapless souls are unlucky enough to catch the same wind as The Harbinger.

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"Put a sword in my hand, a gun that's worth it's weight and I'll kill every man in this building."
Robyn smirked. He certainly knew how to sell it. It was clear he heard her legend too. "The debt of life I owe is proof of that, you can ask Mum if you will." He said and Robyn openly laughed at that. Eleanor didn't seem at all amused but that just made her smile roguishly in her direction.

"What I can do, Captain Sheva, is tell you one thing for certain. Put me on your ship and I'll be the most dangerous weapon you have to bring to bear against whatever hapless souls are unlucky enough to catch the same wind as The Harbinger."

At that, Robyn walked up to him, narrowing her dark eyes, a hand on her hip. "Well, you talk well, but," She leaned in some. " that title belongs to me." She said with a wink and then backed away, looking him up and down.

"He's my kind of crazy." She said to Eleanor but still looking at Flint. "Get yourself cleaned up, because as much I like the smell of blood, and rum, that's circumstantial." She said with a flare of her nostrils. "it's usually one followed by the other." She said and tossed her hand. "Anyway, when your done, meet me downstairs, in the back, since someone doesn't like blood on her floors. I'll test the weight of your steel myself." She said and headed toward the door, she tossed a look behind her.

"See if you're all talk like every other man I've had to displeasure to come across." She said and disappeared out the door but not before hearing Eleanor says.

"She likes you...That may not be good thing...."

Robyn laughed. She knew her well.

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"She likes you... That may not be a good thing...."

Guthrie said as Captain Sheva took her leave, Robb watched her go, his eyes lingering on her figure until she was out of sight. Robb turned to Eleanor with a mischevious smirk.

"What does it mean if I like her too?"

He said before heading out of the room to get cleaned up as was asked of him. Eleanor Guthrie operated out of a trading house that was complete with a tavern and a bath house in which a few whores could always be found willing to take care of a beach rat like him for enough coin or if he dropped the right name.

"Who're you then?"

A pale girl asked with big breasts and flat, black hair asked. The bath house had curtains covering all the windows, couldn't have men getting a peak for free. The room was warm with steam from several tubs already filled of heated water. A hand full of girls stood around, no business today save for one small man buckling his belt. A glare from Robb and he rushed out in a hurry.

"Names Flint, I'm Guthries new man. Says I'm to get cleaned up."

The whore looked him up and down with a chuckle.

"Wise one Mum is, looks be you can use a good scrubbing. Maybe a haircut and a shave. New clothes wouldn't be amiss."

"Do your worst."

Robb shot back with a smirk. She liked that he noticed as she bit her lip, letting her gaze fall to his belt buckle. She sent out a few of the girls to collect him some fresh clothes while she set to stripping away his soiled and tattered shirt and trousers. The water was hot, it scoured his skin but felt amazing. A horse hair brush and a good bar of soap worked magic on the caked on blood and dirt. The other women returned and set to combing out the tangled knot of red hair before cutting it while another slathered hot cream on his face and began shaving his face. He felt almost like they were building a new man out of the ashes.

"So Flint, got a first name?"

The whore asked as she began helping him into his new clothes. Robb shrugged casually.

"Not yet, any suggestions?"

He seemed to amuse the woman to no end who laughed out right as she stood behind him and pulled his jacket on.

"Hows about Jimmy, or James. Always liked that name."

"James..."

Robb said testing it out with a subtle nodd, he liked it.

"There now, take a look at the new James Flint."

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ImageHe descended the stairs, a new man. Not the beast and not the prince but a pirate. A man of the sea who made his living at the end of a sword or with the flash of a pistol. His long black coat flowing behind him, his keen blue eyes, as icy as the frozen North. His hair was no longer the unkept mane of fiery red locks but neat and tidy, combed and tied to keep out of his face. The savage beard, unruly and wild was gone and instead was a clever looking mustache and goatee giving him a debonair look. He spotted the dark skinned Captain and he gave her a subtle nod with a knowing smile. He saw the way she was looking at him, she liked what she saw as he had with her the moment he'd seen her.

"Captain."

He said as he aproached.

"I believe you wanted to test my metal, I'm ready for you."

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Robyn was drinking her favorite ale, as Flint came down the stairs. Her brow rose, as he looked almost entirely different. His hair pulled back behind his head, combed so that red lock shone bright. His long beard gone, giving him a clever look about him. His eyes were the only thing that remained the same, crystal blue as they had been in Eleanor's office. She knew there was something she liked about him, there was a interesting looking man beneath all of that dirt and blood.

"Captain."

He said, approaching her, she rose from her stool,

"I believe you wanted to test my metal, I'm ready for you." He said and she grinned her kittenish grin.

"Ready for me?" She said with a raise of a single brow, "Hardly, but you clean up well....if you're as good as you say, perhaps you're metal isn't all I test." She said and she walked ahead of him, but it was then that quick footfalls came from the top level, she looked up to see Max, Eleanor's kitten was looking down at Flint. "You've got company." She said, pointing with her lips toward the girl as she looked down, almost as she didn't recognize him at least not until he turned to see her.

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Clara couldn't remember her dream, no images but it wasn't dreamless as she awoke with one word on her lips.

"Robb!" She shot from the bed in a gasp, her body slick with sweat, midnight curls clinging to the side of her head, as she looked around, Eleanor came to her, the door was opened and she could see directly in to the office but Robb wasn't there. It had been a dream after all.

Clara closed her hands over her eyes. "Max." Eleanor called as she came over, taking a seat on the bed. "It was a dream, A horrible, beautiful dream." Clara said in her hands.
Eleanor took her hands. "What dream?" She asked, Clara looked up and sighed. "My brother, I dreamed he was here, alive, but he's not here...." She said and Eleanor smiled sadly.

"It wasn't a dream, Clara Snow." She said and Clara flinched. "Your brother is alive, he's here, He was Flint, you fainted when you saw him."

"Then where is he? Why did he leave? Did you hurt him? I swear if you hurt him---" Eleanor looked hurt but shook her head. "I didn't hurt him, He was getting himself cleaned up, He'll be working for the Crimson Lady, to pay back the debt." She said and Clara frowned. "The Crimson Lady?" She questioned. "That woman is crazy." She said and Eleanor laughed. "You're not wrong, but she's a good earner, he wants to pay back the money he took from us, when he killed those men, to look after you."

Clara sighed. That sounded like Robb. "I have see him." She said and Eleanor nodded. "He was going to audition for the Captain out back, if you go now--"
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Clara was already up, and out of bed before Eleanor had time to finish. She busted out of her office and down the long hallway until it turned into a balcony, she looked down and she saw the Crimson Lady but instead of her brother, she saw a ginger haired man, with a ponytail walking out with her. She was halfway down the stairs when The Captain caught her gaze and nodded toward her, the man turned and Clara's eyes went wide.

He looked so different.

"R..."She stopped, she knew calling him by his real name would reveal hers, the last thing they needed was for a group of pirates, to know they were long lost royalty, or at least Robb was. She was only a bastard, heir to nothing.

"Flint...." She said, Max once again. "You're leaving already?" She asked, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her voice.

The Captian chuckled." I'll wait," She said, taking a seat, watching the drama apparently.

"Two years, I haven't seen you, two." She said, bitterly. "I can barely recognize you, not that it matters, you're leaving...."She said, she knew she wasn't being fair but the idea that he'd be joining a pirate crew, the Harbinger no less and would be off for the gods only know how long, after just reuniting with her. It not only broke her heart, it boiled her blood. Surely he wasn't leaving at this moment, but still. It didn't help that he wasn't there when she woke, making her think it was just a dream.

"Fine, Fuck you too." She said much to his surprise. Clara Snow didn't curse, Max, swore like a sailor.

The setting changes from nassau to The New World

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The setting changes from the-new-world to Nassau

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Flint couldn't help but laugh. The sister he remembered never swore, every time he or Jon would have let loose a curse she'd gasp in shock. This wasn't his little Clara but the fiery Max who worked for Eleanor Guthrie. He was looking forward to getting to know this new sister as no doubt she was itching to get to know him.

"Me leaving isn't a fuck you Max. I've got to make a wage somehow and I'm a shit fisherman."

He said with a half smile, the hint of the wolf grin he had in his youth.

"You're friend Ms. Guthrie convinced the good captain to give me a chance to earn my salt aboard her ship. I plan to do just that not to leave you, but to support you. We're family, we have to help each other. You've got your business..."

He said his eyes flicking to the surrounding trading house where Max worked.

"And I've got mine."

He said as he rested his hand on the cutlass hanging from his hip. He leaned forward and gave his sister a soft kiss on the forehead followed by a charming wink.

"Now, I'm going to see how much trouble I can get into with that pretty Captain behind me. When I'm done, we'll catch up. Promise."

With that he turned, returning to Sheva who'd been watching him ever since Max descended the stairs. Instead at stopping at her table for her to lead Flint walked right past her towards the outdoor area she had been leading him to originally. He stopped a few paces past and turned back to her, that wolf grin Robb Stark had been known for was shared by James Flint with uncanny similarity.

"Well?... Waiting on you now, Captain."

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Clara glared at him as he laughed. He mistook her ire for comedy. If she had something sharp right now....

"Me leaving isn't a fuck you Max. I've got to make a wage somehow and I'm a shit fisherman."

With a smirk she wanted to knock clean off his face.

"You're friend Ms. Guthrie convinced the good captain to give me a chance to earn my salt aboard her ship. I plan to do just that not to leave you, but to support you. We're family, we have to help each other. You've got your business..."
She narrowed her eyes at him. So he knew about her and Eleanor. She would have told him but he would have to sit still long enough to do it.

"And I've got mine." He said and she rolled her eyes as his hand rested on the hilt of his cutlass. She was so used to seeing his with a straight sword, that this was wrong somehow, if he really wasn't Robb Stark anymore. It wasn't until he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wink at her did he seem like himself again. She tried to hide it but failed

"Now, I'm going to see how much trouble I can get into with that pretty Captain behind me. When I'm done, we'll catch up. Promise." He said and she sighed, folding her arms. "Sure, It's not like I thought you were dead for two years, yes, we'll catch up." She said and stormed off in a huff. It was the moment, a drunk, stood up, tried to speak to her, but she pushed him in his face, without looking at him or stopping, making him stumbled backwards into his seat.

Of all the ways she'd imagined seeing him again, two years worth of fantasizing abut how she was leapt into his arms, hug him, kiss him and never let go, she didn't expect nor appreciate such a casual response.

This Island changed people she knew that, and it was never for the better.

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Robyn watched him as he went ahead her, she didn't rise from her stool, she watched as Max shoved a drunk without even looking at him. She didn't know where these two where from, but there was something in the water there.
He walked passed her and stopped, grinned dangerously.

"Well?... Waiting on you now, Captain."

She looked at him and smirked.
"In a hurry to lose I see." she said and stood. "This is an audition." She said as she walked up to him, siding beside him. "Remember that." She said, before pushing passed him, so he could watch her walk. She felt his eyes and liked them there.

She lead him into an alley, between Eleanor's tavern and another building. In the middle, was a ring in the dirt. This was a fighting pit most days, where fighters came to fight in the dirt, try to push each other out, or beat each other to death, while other men were making bets. Robyn had a wager of her own.

"Alright." She said, and gestured to the ring. "It's simple, get me out of the ring, do that three times, and you win." She said and shrugged. "Are you a betting man, Flint?" she asked, removing her belt that held her cutlass and flintlock and tossing it to the ground. They were alone and would be for a while, the fighting didn't happen until the evening most days and it was only midday, most of them were either too drunk, or too asleep to bother.

"If I win," She paused, and thought for a moment. Since he cleaned himself up, she wanted many things from him, but it wouldn't be so easy. "If I win, I'll spare you the hazing that you'll inevitable receive on my ship, but not having to work the rows." She told him and looked at him, her kittenish grin returning. "If you win...well....I think we both know what you want."

The setting changes from nassau to The New World

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Character Portrait: Captain Robyn Sheva, The Crimson Lady Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Kallias Markus Character Portrait: Aada Funar Character Portrait: Clara Snow Character Portrait: Robb Stark
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Moloch allowed Aada to speak, pondering her story for a few moments. The themes of the story were familiar and Moloch admitted as much as he spoke, saying, "No. I enjoyed the tale. Drake has two war gods as well: Bellona, goddess of war and strategy, and Styx, god of war and brutality. I'd admit that neither of them are as sympathetic as the twin chieftains, however. Bellona values rationality and peace, but if slighted, she will not cease seeking to avenge herself until she is satisfied, even if it takes centuries and your yourself are long dead. Styx is almost preferable. He has no subtlety and if he is somehow stopped, you are home free."

He paused for a moment, as if in deep thought.

"Our gods are all too human, I think, but they care. They are passionate, like us. We do whatever it takes to protect what we love through peace or war."

As he was about to speak more, Kallias chose that moment to appear, his face already ensconced in gold and blue. Moloch could recognize the runes inscribed upon it. As always, Kallias honored Lila, the goddess of love.

"Moloch, the masquerade is starting. I got your mask here," he said excitedly, offering him his mask. Fittingly, it was a crimson and gold one shaped like that of a dragon. Moloch smirked.

"Cyrus designed it, didn't he?"

"He thought you'd like it."

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Well, Robyn was never one to lend you a shoulder to cry on, Tytos thought wryly as he nursed his drink. He had found a few suitable lads on the way to the tavern. Soon enough, he saw Robyn leading a new lad out the tavern, presumably to put him through his paces. Interesting... He seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place his face.

"Did we ever sail with him before? No, Robyn wouldn't be testing him then. Perhaps he was in Valyria at one point? I will have to keep an eye on him. It's better to observe and say nothing than look like the fool."

He took a nother swig of his drink. He missed fine wines, but the piss they served at this place numbed the senses just as well. He pondered on what he would do when they attacked the summit. He was hungry for information and as chaotic as a pirate raid was, there was still opportunity to gather information. Perhaps Robyn would be amenable to taking hostages?

Regardless, he had nothing to do but sit, drink, and think. He was remarkably good at all three of those things. He watched a woman storm off. She had been talking to the new lad, hadn't see? That was Max, he noted thoughtfully. Now, how did she know him?

He raised his drink as she passed, not caring if she saw him or not. If she spoke to him, he might be able to ask her a few questions about their new recruit. If she didn't, then he was content to drink in solitude.

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Max had started her work, delivering drinks, the tavern was rather quiet, most of the men had drunk themselves unconscious.

She rolled her eyes with a huff. She hated that but such was the job. She went up and down the aisles, urging them to awake and if they didn't she'd splash water in their faces. That got them up, and ornery but one look from her, and they turned tail, under the gist that she wasn't a bother. She knew she didn't scare anyone, but that wasn't going to stop her.

She stopped feeling fear a long time ago. There was no point in it, it would only get her killed. It had gotten them both in this mess in the first place. She was afraid, and couldn't fight. She could still hear the sound of Robb's nose breaking.

She shook away the thought, just as she saw a glass being raised as she passed.


Tyros, if memory served, the dwarf of the Harbinger crew. She grabbed a pitcher of ale and walked over to him. She prepared to fill his cup, but she saw that it was still full. She frowned. "What? I'm not a whore, I don't have a price, and I'm not going to fuck you, so what do you want?"

She asked with a huff, as if she had repeated this more times then she'd care to admit. It was almost like a line in a song, to the point, she didn't have to even think about it.

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"What? I'm not a whore, I don't have a price, and I'm not going to fuck you, so what do you want?"

Tytos raised a small hand, as if to grasp his heart. He grinned at her in mock hurt, "You wound me, madame, to think so lowly of me. I merely noticed an altercation you had with a soon-to-be member of my captain's crew. That is, if he passes her interview. Luckily, she seems to like strong, fierce men such as he if I am any judge of her behavior."

He took a swig of his drink, watching her reaction to his words. Any reaction to suggested romantic or lust-filled interest could give him some idea about her relationship with the man and, truthfully, he was bored. He did not feel like paying whores to be interested in him tonight so he had nothing but his mind and cheap liquor to pass the time.

"You are Max, are you not? I've seen you with our lovely Queen of Thieves. I hope she treats you well."

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"You wound me, madame, to think so lowly of me. I merely noticed an altercation you had with a soon-to-be member of my captain's crew. That is, if he passes her interview. Luckily, she seems to like strong, fierce men such as he if I am any judge of her behavior." He said and Clara frowned. She knew what the Captain was known for doing with men, most of the time, it ended with them dead in the bed she took them in, the halfman didn't nothing but remind her of that.

She didn't respond, she just rolled her eyes.

"You are Max, are you not? I've seen you with our lovely Queen of Thieves. I hope she treats you well." He said and she looked at him. Eleanor never shown her any affection in public, but clearly there were rumors. She wouldn't give him the indication one way or another. "You've not seen me with anyone," She said. It's not like the two took long romantic walks, no, they're relationship was strictly behind closed doors.

She rolled her eyes again, looking away from the halfman.
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"Clearly there is something you want to know, so ask, so I can get back to work, Halfman..." She said, with a deep impatient sigh.

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A frown, a look, those were enough to put a few pieces into place within Tytos' mind. She had some concern about his soon-to-be crewmate. Whether it was out of jealousy or concern for his well-being, he could not tell, though he did get a reaction from her when he spoke of Eleanor. Perhaps the rumors were true? He filed those suspicions away for future use. It was not a confirmation, but it did indicate a bond of some sort, professional or personal. Slowly, he raised his drink to his lips.

"What do I want? There is a lot that I want, but there is only one thing you could provide me: information on the man that has caught Captain Robyn's attention at the moment. Who is he? Should I be concerned about him? If things take a turn for the worse, do I have a reason to risk my neck for his? Should I be afraid he will stab me in my sleep over an apple?"

He grinned at her.

"I take a keen interest in those I travel with."