Arya the Trenchant's Story

Arya sighed, "I guess we don't always get what we want." Her face had turned into disappointment as she dragged her feet after the two. No slave and now no freedom. While the man currently offered her a choice in the morning, she doubted it would true after he had rested. Most likely the witch would leave and the masked leader would have a new striking pole named Arya. Things didn't bode well for the young maiden. She hoped that the old oaf would get drunk tonight and forget to wake in the morning. She would charm one of the novice bandits to run away with her, which would act as her guard and guide out of the forest. She had a plan and, by god, she was going to get out alive and scar free.

Still, she trudged on through the forest which was finally dry from the morning rain. She was sure there was a moon out, but past the thick leaf cover above now, it was impossible to tell. There was no time to tell or detail to care about. There was simply a call for sleep; one in which she heeded obediently. Arya arrived at the tent, striped down to nothing and flopped lazily onto the bed before settling to sleep. The other would have to deal with her naked body mindlessly laid over the leaders sleeping mat because she cared very little about the entire thing. In truth, it was an easy way to try and surprise a bandit in the morning and seduce him. For now it was just a way to sleep so that the warm summer air didn't melt her. She was tired, annoyed and partially hopeless. It was time for bed.

Arya slept silently, twitching the odd time to a dream about money, and that was her night.

The sun had not yet risen into view when Dervish and the other two bandits reached the point of the road closest to the Ragged Camp. The masked man glanced at the surrounding foliage yet again, but the leader had been very surprised at the uneventful trip. The horses of his followers were laden with their spoils from the mission, all except a particular sword which Dervish had claimed for himself, and despite the outfits being hidden it would have been a pain to deal with anyone on the road whether guard or criminal. Exhaling steam in the cool morning air, Dervish steered the horse off of the road, and towards home.

It didn't take long for one of the ragged bandits to meet Dervish on the pathway, and take the reins of the leader's horse. The bandit leader listened as the happenings of the last two days were explained to him, an unbelievable tale of the merchant girl's escape and a battle. At the word 'Witch', Dervish snapped his head towards the follower, and that's when he began to ask questions. It took time for him to be satisfied, but finally they reached camp and Dervish descended from the horse, intent on speaking with the salt maiden, the palisade, and the witch. If everything that he had been told was true, their plans were going to change. An ambitious smirk remained hidden behind his emotionless steel mask.

Pushing the heavy tent flap aside, Dervish entered the dark and the warmth of his quarters and was immediately greeted to the sight of Arya's naked form, the curve of her behind and back dimly illuminated in what little morning light filtered into the tent. Both Weaver and the mysterious Witch woman were nowhere to be seen in the tent, although the bandit leader assumed that the first place his soldier would go after the strenuous events of the previous night was to a drink. Stepping closer to the bed, Dervish noted the missing bottle that had been on his dresser and silently confirmed his suspicion. If the witch had left in the night while Weaver was drinking himself into unconsciousness, the bandit leader would regretfully have to make an example of him. Perhaps Arya knew more - The fact that she was here still, at least, was a good sign. Even if the information she gave was under duress and her escape attempt should have ended with the death of one of his lieutenants, without both her information and her wily escape they wouldn't be in the position to move for power that were currently in.

Looking again to the girl's form in the light, Dervish briefly felt a stirring that he'd ignored for years, now, but the man pushed the thought aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "Glad to see that you've made yourself comfortable in my bed." His tone was almost playful. He'd wait for her to awaken and then see if she knew where the Witch had slept or gone in the night, and then they could begin to plan.

Arya wiggled lethargically in the bed as a voice rose through the morning silence. It was a voice she had known days before - one in which she had been dreading to hear. Still, the young maiden didn't stray from an opportunity for banter and groaned, "I think you mean my bed. Finders keepers after all." Arya curled herself tighter into a ball. The cotton sheets felt slightly itchy against her skin but she avoided the temptation to scratch. Instead she huffed herself awake with deep breaths and exaggerated exhales.

Rising from the bed with slow, pained movements, the half-elf muttered, "But I suppose I should ask what my fate will be. Did the information do you well or am I a dead woman? If I'm dead, I'd rather die in my natural attire. The best always do." A small smile graced her lips but she wore a tired glare as she peered at Dervish still in his steel mask. She was certain he was scarred beyond human recognition below it. Even a wanted man would like to feel the morning air at least sometimes but this strange, steely mister was as stubborn as a mule it would seem. Silently she swore that if she didn't die, she would find a way to get that mask off of him. It was a silly, petty thing to consider when threatened with death but Arya wouldn't have it any other way.

"Also," Arya interrupted with a stern tone, "Have you seen the new missus? She is certainly something to behold, even for a man like you." Her light eyes had a slight spark in them while she watched her query with interest. Arya had risen fully from the bed now and strolled slyly towards the centre table. Her clothes were still thrown in a pile near the bed behind her.

"I have not seen her yet." Dervish turned as she walked past him to the table, idly watching her form as he spoke. "In fact, I was hoping that you would be able to tell me where she was." the man crossed his arms over his chest. "I suspect that I know where your guard Weaver went, and he will be out of commission for a few hours yet, but in the meantime I will speak with both you and the witch, if she is still in the camp."

"As for your fate..." The man paused, his eyes breaking from the merchant's body to study her expression. If the girl truly was nervous at all, she was hiding it masterfully; Arya didn't need a metal mask to hide herself from the world. "Your information was very good. We got everything that we needed for our original plan, and there were minimal complications. So I think that it's a fair trade that I begin to trust you. No more guard, to start." Perhaps he could finally start to have his tent to himself, again. "Your escape attempt was... ill-conceived, but you are apparently as lucky as you are bold. Not only did my lieutenant not die like he should have, but we may have gained a new ally, even temporarily. A powerful one." As Dervish spoke the last few words, the tent flap moved again and a young woman entered. The newcomer was dressed in heavy clothing and carried a staff, and wasn't one of his ragged bandits. The witch.

"You're the woman that my men have told me about." Dervish's flat voice carried across the tent. it was already beginning to get brighter in the tent, as the sun began to rise amongst the trees. "I don't know your name, but I have to thank you for healing Weaver. He's a good man." the masked man reached off of the side of the bed and picked up Arya's clothing, striding to the center table and setting the clothes beside the merchant woman with a meaningful glance her way. "I have a proposition for you both, if you'll sit with me. I'll have food brought here so that you won't listen on an empty stomach."

Uncrossing his arms, Dervish tilted his head slightly, trying to gauge both of their expressions to what he said. "You are both, of course, free to leave either before or after hearing what I have to say."

"You're the woman that my men have told me about..."

Dalca nodded as the masked man spoke. This was assuredly Dervish, the leader of these folk. She took a seat at the table once he finished saying his part, only cutting in briefly to respond to some of the statements.

"I am."

"My name is Natalia. The large one, there is no need to thank me for helping him. He helped free me from my previous captors, it only seemed fair to aid him in return."

At the mention of a proposition, the witch leaned slightly forward, yet her expression remained neutral. Her face, while youthful and healthy, bore a steadfast and stony rigidity that tended to be reserved for the older and more experienced. Two stone-gray eyes focused on the masked man, their combined gaze seemingly devoid of focus as she lazily inspected the interior of the tent.

"Luck had nothing to do with it." Arya muttered under her breath while she turned around from the pair to saunter towards her clothes. With sure hands, she picked up the outfit and shuffled into it. Her pale form disappeared under the brown leather that clung to her body greedily. Sweat the rested under her knees from the warm morning made it hard to push her legs through it which caused the half-elf to wiggle awkwardly into a tight fit. It took more of her mind that she had hoped, causing the young woman to miss much except for the promise of a potential offer and food. The second rang more true to her current state but the former would - or could - change her life.

Arya turned to the pair with a very mild grin and a nod. "Food sounds best." She stated quietly. The woman dropped into the chair by the table and straightened her back. Her thin hands took a fragile rest on her knees while she stared judgingly to Dervish. "Well?" She hinted with a nod towards the food. She was expecting to be served. It was, after all, the best thing he could do after keeping her captive here for several days. They weren't bad days but they also weren't exactly the best days either.

Pleased that both women chose to stay, Dervish moved smoothly to the entrance of his tent, speaking to one of the men who were outside the door briefly. As he moved back to the center of the tent, he saw Arya indicating that he begin to serve the small amount of food he kept in his tent, and after a moment of inscrutable thought he moved to the platter, lifting it to the table and setting slices of bread, chicken and vegetables in front of the two. "I have fruit, fish and cheese coming as well, help yourselves." Dervish sat across from the two, not making a move for the food himself.

"The first thing I want to do is learn more about you both. I have my own ambitions for my future, but I want to know how we can help one another." the man leaned forward, his eyes meeting each of the two as he talked - First to the smiling, attractive young merchant, sharp and deadly as a dagger; Then to the mysterious witch, polite and calm, but with something lurking behind her eyes that kept even the bandit leader from meeting her eyes for too long.

"As for myself, my main ambition is power. I have my own reasons for holding a vendetta against the Waors' ruling family, but the Warins family are my first target. If you want money, affluence or power as I do, I'm willing to work with you for as long as you're useful to me." Dervish gestured to the tent flap behind him, indicating the camp. "I have my men who call themselves the ragged bandits who are largely loyal for as long as they are paid enough, but mostly consist of criminals or mercenaries - It's difficult for me to find real allies who see the larger picture. I want to find people who have similar vision, and I want us all to benefit and grow from a mutual relationship."

Arya was pleased about the food; gruel, after several days, was beginning to wear on her sanity. Her light eyes kept a solid glare on a slab of chicken as it rose to the table, almost glistening in the morning light. She hadn't waited to hear Dervish's ploy before reaching rudely over the table and pinching the piece from the tray. Greedily she pulled it back and stuffed it into her mouth, munching quickly on its tender, white flesh. Painfully, the half-elf swallowed a large chunk and answered, "I think you know my ambition. Money, plain and simple." She paused for a breath before pinching another slab of meat from the tray. "But if I'm going to help with your little pipe dream, I'm going to need more than just your promise of future money. First of all-" The woman bit another thigh of meat, "I want my sisters back. Then I want protection. Another bodyguard to replace my Ivan you stole from me. And my own tent. Also, I don't like the idea of Weedle creeping around me anymore. He's vastly underwhelming as a human. Keep him busy at a distance from me."

Arya finished off the new piece of chicken and patted her face before staring at Dervish sternly. "As for what I plan to do, well, you have the uniforms so that's step one. Step two, you're going to build a wooden hut - much like a shop front. The biggest difference between bandits and actual guards are structures. I'm going to need parchment and a nicer ink plot than you have now - it's repulsive. Lastly, I'll need a seal but you may have solved that problem already." She smiled devilishly at him. "I'm assuming you have a Captain's sword - Siav was boasting about it before. Captains have swords with the kingdom emblem on them. We can use clay to create a seal from that image. With it, we'll send letters out to a few major companies, alerting them to the change. If they're prepared for the new station, they'll be less likely to question it. Our only worry is that they'll complain to the Kingdom about the new changes but if we pay off the right people, the leaders will never know about it." She smiled at him and took another bite of chicken.

While Arya spoke, the other guest at the table took the opportunity to eat. While her table manners were much more refined and delicate than her counterparts, cutting the chicken and fish gingerly into smaller bite sized pieces before carrying them individually to her mouth, her pace clearly signified the witch as emaciated. In all likelihood, the witch received meager rations if anything at all during her captivity.

When the gold-hungry elf finally finished her babbling, Natalia took a sip from the jug of water provided to her. At which she gave a satisfied exhale, and cleared her throat briefly.

"I seek neither money nor power. My ambitions are more, erm, abstract. That said, I will happily cooperate with your free company as long as our goals coincide, which for the time being seems like the case. I do have a few more personal errands I would like to run, but those are to pursue at the leisure of the group."

"Though, one task I need fulfilled as soon as possible but it is rather simple. A friend of mine runs a small establishment in the Waors capital, serving the purpose of both a librarian and a salesman of the newest texts. He must be worried about my lack of contact, so I would like to pay him a visit to ease his mind."