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Karen Troth

"The great secret of respect is not the ability to obtain your goals, but the ability to convince everyone that you will stop at nothing to achieve it."

0 · 727 views · located in Otanis

a character in “The Skylands of Novahlis: The Heart of Otanis”, as played by Taunbon

Description

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【 Name 】
Karen V. Troth

【 Alias 】

Bitch - A 'clever' name that Konrad will mutter in her presence and it is how he addresses her when talking to others. The nickname has grown, and it is how many of her peers will now refer to her when she is out of earshot. 'The Bitch' 'Bitch' 'Cold Bitch' and other inventive names.

Admiral Troth - The accepted name which people refer to her by. It is how she introduces herself, and she will expect them to refer to her as such if they desire to avoid issues.

Admiral - A suitable replacement for the above.

Karen - Only said if someone does not desire to live. Admiral Troth will not allow people to refer to her so informally and intimately, but it is one of the easiest ways to earn her ire.

【 Age 】
28

【 Height 】
5'10

【 Weight 】
164 .lbs

【 Hair 】
Dark Pink

【 Eyes 】
Indigo

【 Occupation 】
Admiral of 'Special Operations'

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【 Skills 】

Mistress of Intrigue
Troth is widely renown among her fellow admirals for her... alternative take towards opposition. She strikes from the shadows, pulling upon invisible webs to force her opponents to dance to strings that suit her. Planning steps ahead of others, she often pits her enemies against one another letting them do the killing for her and grinding them down. It is said that if her efforts were more well-known, she would be one of the leading military officials within the Government, but most of her deeds go unknown and unnoticed which adds to her mystique, but as she would say, 'In her line of work, you know you have done well when not a soul can point the finger in your direction.'

Observant
Nothing escapes the Admiral's notice, she always seems to be able to take in everything before her down to the tiniest details and keep the information fresh in her mind until it comes of use. She is extremely good at reading people, and it has become something of a hobby, it is not unlike her to force people into precarious positions or to give them power to see what they will do with it. She is rarely caught by surprise by people or events, but when it happens, to call her elated would be an understatement. Nothing fires her up more than something that happened outside of her expectation because it means there is some small, little detail she has yet to have in her grasp.

Admiral
Despite her cloak and dagger nature, Troth is still an admiral and as such is still a master commander of the fleets able to pilot, command, and take control of whatever battle she is in with terrifying precision. She is often able to decipher the enemies plans when laid out before her and is one of the greatest Admirals in terms of using feints, ambushes, and other 'under-handed tactics' preferring stealth and cunning over firepower and brute force which often earns her ridicule from fellow admirals and even brave captains, but none can deny their effectiveness. Yet she knows there is a place for firepower and brute force and is not one to raise her nose at such options because pure force is, indeed, a mighty weapon.

Cooking/Cleaning
Something very few people know, but Troth is a skilled cook able to pull a meal from whatever sparse ingredients are laying around and is also well versed in keeping things 'tidy' able to remove stains from the stubbornest of spills, however, she refuses to clean and cook, herself, due to the fact her skill was not raised from enjoyment but through force as a slave for a sky pirate when she was a child. Preforming the actions reminds her of the beatings and the helplessness that once plagued her.

Combat
As an admiral, Troth is one of the greatest fighters on the planet. Many make the mistake of underestimating her because she prefers using her wits and plans over personally fighting and crushing her way through a battlefield and those that do tend to die. Despite her appearance and tactical preference, Troth is one of the greatest hand to hand experts within the Admiralty and her ranged combat prowess is nothing to scoff at able to hit a flying mark every time and be able to fit a single coin over the holes. She will often let the notion that she is weaker than her fellow admirals flourish as she much prefers opponents that underestimate her and will happily use such an advantage to her benefit, but it is safe to say that those who underestimate her rarely get a chance to repent that folly.

Writing
A skill as well as a hobby, and it is one of the few personal luxuries she allows herself. She keeps a detailed journal, and she also understands the amount of risk such a thing carries, but she does not speak of her plans or job, instead the journal is based more on her feelings and observations. It is the one place she allows herself to relax and be.. well... herself.

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【 Weaknesses 】

Risk Assessment
Due to her nature, she will often weigh things in her mind comparing threats and reward with people, groups, and actions, but this can, and has, made her blind to the power of the individual. Most of her attention is attracted to large groups with immediate destruction capabilities, and she will often scoff at the thought of a single man or woman being able to cause a major disturbance on their own. While she is very much a 'big picture' kind of woman, and loves details, she does not believe the tiny details are that great of an importance to the whole. If she replaces the tiny cog with another cog, the machine will still work and the cog will be forgotten, but she will often forget that not all cogs are the same shape or made from the same metal.

Distrusted
Few, if anyone sane, trust Troth. Most of the other admirals outright dislike her on a personal and professional basis and her aid or presence is rarely welcomed, and the higher echelons merely telling them she is 'special operations' which does little more than irritate them further when they make inquires of her and her actions. She has become something of a pariah that other admirals and captains will rarely speak of because it has become something of a social stigma this often leads many younger officers to have little idea as to who she is. While she claims it does not bother her, it does pose a rather large problem. Should she ever find her back to the wall with her plans failing, no one would come for her. She would be left to the wolves because she has not made 'friends' merely collected debt from those she thought would be useful. She has no one to call on for help should the worst occur.

Favoritism
A weakness spawned from her observational skill, it is not unlike Troth to develop fascinations with certain people where she will watch them closely, and put them into situations (often beneficial for their careers) in order to see what happens and this has lead to a certain type of favoritism that often annoys her other subordinates. It can also be detrimental to her plans because she leaves a greater leeway for those individuals even if it would alter the plan for worse. One such 'favoritism' is for William Konrad where she will meet with him personally when able instead of sending someone to speak for her as she does for the other hunters, mercenaries, and assassins working for her.

Personal Combat
While extraordinarily proficient at it, she does not like dirtying her own hands as to do so would imply that she failed. If she has to personally deal with something, it means her plans failed, and in turn, she was not capable of dealing with the issue effectively. This mindset means it is extremely rare for Troth to throw the first punch, and she will generally be less inclined to start blasting her way out of situations even if doing so was the better option.

【 Appearance 】

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A woman who has never worn a dress in her life, Troth is often described as a hard, strong woman but that is truly just the aura and feeling she gives off with her fierce spirit and personal strength. Beneath the exterior and uniform, Troth is very attractive by any standards. Her thin face is defined by her high, sharp cheek bones, thin pointed chin, small nose delicately centered, and plump pink lips give her a very feminine glow when she allows it. Her smooth, unblemished pale skin is like silk when the outside world is graced with its appearance. Her thin shoulders, small breast give her a very lithe visage that is accented by her wide hips and long legs combine to give her the appearance of a regale noble woman yet who moves with a fluid grace that is reminisce of a feral cat on the prowl.

It could be said that Karen Troth has two faces: the woman and the admiral. Normally, her face is hard, her eyes sharp and piercing under expressive, thin arching eyebrows, her jaw set and chin raised. Her expression is often cold even when she allows smirks to skitter across her face, and she exudes strength of purpose to all those around her giving off an aura of someone twice her size. Her sharp, high cheek bones give her the illusion of glaring down at anyone who catches her attention even if they tower over her physically. Her natural beauty is hidden behind the cold exterior and ruthless professionalism that Admiral Troth is known for.

The other face is as rare as it is precious. When truly happy, when lost and confused or when truly surprised, all of which are rare occasions, the Admiral slips from her face and the softer woman shows. The cold, sharp exterior slides off, her eyes soften, her shoulders relax, and her harsh aura dissipates leaving in their wake an incredibly beautiful and vulnerable looking woman whose soft eyes seem to draw people in and beg them for unknown assistance and love. This side of her, the face beneath the walls, is something that rarely, if ever appears, and it only does so for a few precious moments. Some of the oldest men and women she has working for her can scarcely remember the times when this has happened, but every time it has, it has captured their attention for even they know that to see this side of her, even for a moment, is one of the rarest things they will see in their lifetime.

【 Transportation 】



The Shadowsun
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The Shadowsun is Admiral Troth's personal warship. Her personal ship is smaller than many others of her station who prefer larger, massively armed 'battleships' or 'carriers' compared to hers which would be closer to a destroyer class designed for direct firepower and gives her more maneuverability. The Shadowsun, as befitting an Admiral, has numerous retrofits that make it far superior to most other airships in service including a large communications relay that allows commanders to better coordinate with nearby airships and maintain battle coherency. The heavy reactive armor has 'dampening' systems that absorb various frequencies making it near undetectable by anything besides the naked eye.

The large destroyer has a crew of a little over one hundred including combat personnel. The destroyer, fittings its name, is heavily armed with five flak cannons to provide anti-light airship and is effective against personal airships (also very good for 'ground support'), it has two on the top of the ship allowing limited firearcs above and in front of the destroyer, one on either side with a large radius to swivel and turn to cover its flanks, and one on the very bottom of the ship that can swivel and turn to provide support beneath the airship as well as to fire upon the ground should the need appear. The main weaponry, however, are two 'Reaper Cannons' jutting out from the front of the ship. The cannons cannot turn or move thus they can only fire what the ship is directly facing, however the cannons are very powerful firing mass-reactive shells designed to puncture armor then explode after penetration causing maximum damage to enemy airships. It is incredibly deadly to warships, however, at close range against light warships, it has the tendency to 'over-penetrate' and so not explode until after it has passed through to the other side greatly diminishing its stopping power.

Within the Shadowsun is a small docking bay that allows for one small airship to enter and leave, this is Troth's personal airship that is used when she wishes to go somewhere without alerting the entire populace to her large destroyer. Much like the shadowsun, it 'absorbs' frequencies and waves to block it from anything save for human eyesight. It is large enough for four people to sit comfortably in.

【 Standard Equipment 】

Needle
Her personal sidearm is a vicious weapon that she had personally crafted for herself and at great expense. Comparing the cost of the weapon and its ammo, she could have had a custom built personal airship for the same price. The weapon is a long, thin, elegant looking white pistol with silver carvings running along the metal, but its beauty is only beaten by its lethality. The pistol only has enough power and ammo for a very limited number of shots, five to be precise, before she has to have to bring it in to the artificer who crafted it for reloading as the pistol is far too advanced for anyone else to tinker with and the ammunition far too dangerous.

The Needle is powered through an archaic system that uses highly compressed air and electricity to propel the 'needles' out from the weapon at extraordinary velocity allowing them to easily puncture and penetrate whatever stands in their way. It is said that if Troth were to ever replace the normal needles for solid metal spikes she could impale people to the walls, but the needles she uses are far more dangerous. The needles are crafted from Cho'tosa Crystals in the Mesa Todkin mines, extremely dense and expensive gems that are hollowed out for her purpose. Each needle is extraordinarily thin being no thicker than a strand of hair and little over four inches long, in the hollow needle is a distilled toxin from the korpin toad of the zantos marsh, the toxin is something few people know about, but it is one of the deadliest in the known world and is incredibly... revolting in its use. The toxin causes the blood vessels in the target to start to rapidly expand until they burst, which in an animal or human, causes them to quite literally burst spraying viscera and gore around them. The process is extraordinarily painful, but luckily, brief as the body part bloats and 'burst' in seconds, but as even Troth admits, it is a gruesome and revolting process and, in truth, Troth hates using it, but she cannot deny its effectiveness.

For it is not the killing potential that she favors, it is the dread the Needle causes. Once someone has seen the effects of the pistol, few will ever stand before her again, and many that are doing so will throw down their arms or flee rather than risk such a fate. The Needle is a powerful tool capable of cowering potential foes before they launch their attacks. The Needle does have its draw backs being the small clip size, extreme cost to reload and time required, and it has the tendency to over penetrate the target. It is designed to penetrate in that start to 'shred' its layers and deliver the poison as it moves through the body, but at close ranges, it has simply blown a small hole through their body before enough layers were 'shredded' and the poison was not delivered.

Rapier
When one hits admiral, they are often gifted with a custom, high quality blade as a reward and badge of station. Troth was no different and when asked what kind of blade should be forged for her, she requested the Rapier for she prefers the quick, accurate lethality of it over the hacking and slashing blades preferred by other Admirals. The blades are forged with the strength and raw power of Admirals in mind, as such, they are incredibly resilient and will not chip or break unless under extreme duress that... well, suffice to say if an Admiral was in such a situation that a sword that can be shot with leaving a mark shatters, they are more than likely dead already.

While she has the Rapier, it is very rare for her to use it, and should she draw the blade, it is a sign of respect as it means they will get to face her when she is no longer holding back and is now going for the kill. No one she has drawn the blade on in combat has survived.

【 Specialist Equipment 】

As an Admiral, and a wealthy woman with plenty of connections, there are few things that she could not get her hands on if she so desired. She generally doesn't need anything as she rarely gets her own hands dirty because she has people to do that for her.

【 Wealth 】

Admiral Troth has amassed a fair amount of wealth over the course of her career. Her job pays rather handsomely, and she augments that with underworld dealings and tradings to further expand her spy networks and to grease palms when it is required. She is not one to gloat or flaunt her wealth, and few people know the extent of her money as Troth does not own a single building, not even an apartment, nor does she have any money in any banking system.

【 Family 】
None to her knowledge.

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【 Personality】

{Proud || Refined || Professional || Resolute || Patient || Distrusting || Individualistic}

Karen Troth is a very proud woman, and she has much to be proud of. One of the youngest to ever become an admiral, she already holds numerous commendations... as well as reprimands that surpass more than a few of her senior admirals. She knows, rightly so, that her abilities are rare, in high demand, and make her extremely powerful in her own right, and she takes such knowledge of her worth in stride, however, she will not abide insults to her person. She can tolerate nicknames, snickers, or snide comments behind her back, but Troth will never allow direct disrespect to go unpunished because not only is it a blow to her pride to attempt to force her to 'accept' such comments, but it is a deadly blow to her reputation which is something she simply cannot abide. Insulting her is one of the few ways to force her into personal combat which ends fairly badly for whoever does it. Because of her pride, Troth refuses to accept anything less than perfection from herself and others, this does make her very demanding of her subordinates and very hard on mistakes. She will often leave such mistakes alone until it has grown into a large problem, and the person who caused it comes to her and falls before her and seeks forgiveness as that is the best way to learn as they will not forget it then. Due to her pride, she will refuse to bow her knee or admit when she cannot do something on her own even if she must pretend to be in control then she will, her pride simply cannot allow her to show weakness or vulnerability.

Admiral Troth is anything if not refined. She moves with pose and purpose, her movements graceful and direct. When she speaks, it is with authority and elegance.. if not condescending at times. It is rare, if not impossible, to catch her with 'bed hair' or other such dreadful moments because she takes good care of her appearance as it is a weapon as much as her blade is. Her clothing, unless otherwise desired, is immaculate and usually very masculine as femininity has little use in her line of work. She will almost always speak with a certain level of civility even when burning with rage and will 'kill with politeness' as well as get her point across, no matter how deadly the point may be, without breaking her demeanor. Many who have met her link it akin to meeting a far older, and wiser, noble matron who seems to know far more than she lets on.

In fact, not breaking her demeanor is a major point in her nature as Troth is incredibly professional. She is very much the admiral first and the woman second, her duty and job come before anything else, and she does not let anything get in the way of that. She will not condone 'relations' between her subordinates as it decreases proficiency and when it is time for business that is all there is time for. While 'on the clock' any half-smiles she offers, deadpan jokes she lets slip, or mused pondering are focused on improving or solidifying her power and her career. Troth has always been extremely successful in separating her personal feelings from what she needs to do to the point where she can become 'robotic' and cold to the world around her, less 'human' and more 'admiral'.

This separation of her psyche allows her to be extremely resolute in her decisions. Some actions, no matter how cruel or terrifying, simply must be done, sometimes there is no decision besides the hard one, and Admiral Troth never backs down from such things. If she must kill one hundred, to save a thousand, if she must sacrifice an officer to take down a sky pirate, if she must burn a city to save a nation, then so be it. What makes her an effective admiral is that she never shrinks from these moments, she will raise her chin, straighten her back, and walk through hell if it is necessary and she respects others who can do the same as she firmly believes a 'monster' can do far more for the world then a hero could ever hope to do. It is... almost sad that Troth, while not enjoying harm others or killing, will do so, will bury her heart and hardened her resolve to do what must be done.

With her profession and specialization comes a certain level of patience, and Troth considers herself to be a woman of great patience willing to plant a seed, watch it grow, sprinkle water and sunshine on it waiting for the opportune time in which to harvest her investment. This does help her in dealing with people she may not necessarily like, and she has no problem sitting in the same spot for hours and simply waiting for a single moment to come. This incredible patience can be very unnerving to others as even in the tensest of situations, she will radiate a calm and poise as she simply waits for whatever is to happen to happen. However, there are a few actions that will shatter her patience near instantly and when that happens, Troth is a terrifying woman indeed.

Trust is something Troth has learned is simply not allowed in her line of work. While it may seem she 'trust' people, she never truly does. No matter how 'noble' or 'honest' someone is, they will always have a hidden agenda, at some point or another, they will betray her and hurt her if given the chance. She will always try to have plans in motion to 'ensure' loyalty to her, but even then, she always half expects betrayal and deception from her own subordinates even those closest to her. This distrusting nature also causes others to distrust her as she never allows them close enough to get to know the woman and not the admiral and coupled with her actions and job makes it near impossible to ever fully trust her motives, and she would call them foolish if they ever fully trusted her. This has led her to be fairly isolated and alone in the world.

However, it isn't all bad as Troth is a very individualistic woman. She tends to prefer her own company and considers other people to be either tools or amusing distractions that she can 'study'. While, at times, she will crave true human interaction where she can just be Karen instead of Admiral Troth, she crushes such feelings quickly as said feelings is how people die. No matter the situation, she forces herself to be emotionally closed off, and island in the middle of the sea. She is at the top of a pyramid, commanding those below her, but with no one with her. A lonely, but safe lifestyle. It could be said that Karen has never had a single friend in her entire life, and it wouldn't be far from the truth. She would not even know where to start on such a thing, and if her walls ever came down, she would be vulnerable and weak to the world, easily crushed and that is one of her greatest fears, letting someone in and what time has proven will happen. She can survive as a lone island in the sea, and she will survive.

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【 Origin 】

Despite being an Admiral, not much is known about her past before her military career which does not help with the distrust the other military officers show her. There are rumors and whispers that she used to be a slave to a sky pirate, what sky pirate or even if this is true is largely unknown, how she started her military career or what has happened over it is largely a mystery which suits Troth as the lack of information on her is just as much a weapon as anything else.

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So begins...

Karen Troth's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adell Williams Character Portrait: Karen Troth
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Shh, nothing to see here.

The setting changes from Novahlis to Otanis

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adell Williams Character Portrait: Karen Troth
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Adell Williams




"Young!"

"Reliable!"

"Beautiful!"


Adell was a young man who lived by the rule that you treat people how you would like to be treated. It was a simple, clear rule that need not be elaborated upon. Easy to understand, easy to execute. That is why he always showed respect to people he met, even if they were complete and total strangers. And until they gave him reason otherwise, he would not disrespect someone. This thought process was one he really wished everyone shared, but it seemed that this was not the case. Because a bit of warning about Admiral Troth would have been appreciated. Instead, he only heard praise about her.

As an aspiring Admiral, the young Lieutenant had become ecstatic upon discovering he would be working with an Admiral directly after receiving his promotion. Admirals were strong people. They fought for what was right and they did not allow evil persons to harm the innocent. Defenders of justice, if you will. The light in which Adell saw an Admiral was a bright, shining beacon of justice that would never waver, even in the face of evil. So, of course, as you might expect, the man was under the assumption that they would be a little less....

...Trothy.

While he was unwilling to speak ill of an esteemed Admiral, he can safely say he was expecting something much different. She certainly did not share the same sense of idealism Adell had, that was made quite obvious even to him. While she commanded respect from those around her, it was not because she led by example but more because she gave off an air of 'people better fucking listen or shit's not going to be enjoyable'. His ideal vision of the Admiral was shattered within about six seconds of actually meeting her. But even if she wasn't what he had thought she would be, she was still someone he respected immensely. Her position was not given out lightly and, taking that into consideration, Adell figured that she must be a productive member of justice in her own way to make it to where she was, and so young too. In a way, she inspired him. She was a proof that it was possible to become an Admiral at a young age, and that gave him the motivation to see things through, not that he didn't have enough already.

But there was no reason to dwell on the topic. He might not enjoy her character so much at the moment, but he did not have any reason yet to doubt she could help him along his path to becoming an Admiral, and that alone meant that he was more than willing to follow her, wherever she may take him on this journey.

And besides, she was actually very beautiful.

It was in the cockpit of the small airship, Troth's own personal vessel, that Adell found himself now, along with the aforementioned Admiral. He had to admit that though he had an above average aptitude for flying, he never really cared much for it. His preference was towards walking or running, using his body instead of sitting around. That being said, he was 'asked' to, so there really wasn't a choice in the matter. Besides, they were headed towards a dock in the seemingly-wonderful Otanis Kingdom. It was quite lively with multiple ships already docked and many people scattering about to do their business, from what he could see in the pilot's seat. A few of acquaintances Adell knew had told him that the general population was very kind and friendly, and he had often thought of taking a vacation here to see that for himself. Maybe if he was lucky, he would be able to stop and take in the sights at one point, probably after they met whomever this 'Konrad' guy was.

The ship was maneuvered expertly into a position in the docks except for some small scratches to the paint. "Don't worry, Admiral, those will buff right out.". It may not have fit in well with the abundance of merchant ships around them, but there was not much a pilot could do about that, as aesthetics were beyond his capabilities. At the very least, they weren't trying to dock her actual ship here. There would have been many complications with that, besides the space needed to do so.

"We've docked, Admiral Troth." Adell stated, perhaps simply due to habit from his pilot training. With a ship like this, it was not necessary to relay this since you could could see and feel the ship come to a halt. Adell did mandatory checks across the various indicators to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything during their flight and before long, felt comfortable he hadn't caused any damage to an Admiral's ship during their short flight. Now if he remembers correctly, he simply needed to wait for the order to get off the ship or some mumbo-jumbo, right?

Perhaps he should have taken a bit more interest in the flying aspect of being an Admiral.... Oh well.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adell Williams Character Portrait: William T. Konrad Character Portrait: Karen Troth
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#, as written by Taunbon
Kingdom of Otanis, Docks
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Karen gently reached forward, her long, thin fingers roaming over her dark suede pants to smooth out a rather stubborn wrinkle that had arisen when she had crossed her legs during the flight. Moving her hands back to her lip, she crossed her fingers once again and let her sharp indigo eyes move to examine the islands coming into view, the Kingdom of Otanis. In truth, this would be her first trip to the small, neutral kingdom as it had never required, or warranted, her attention until now, but insects had a way of scurrying in every nook and cranny; minor things like jurisdiction and wrongful military presence meant just as much to them as it did to her.

In fact, it was such an occasion that led to her dressing up in 'civilian' clothing which took a fair amount of concentration to not pick and probe at as the unfamiliar clothe irritated her skin beneath, having long adapted to her own uniforms and military attire that fit her far better. The civilian clothing, the dark purple suede pants and black shirt did not have the same effect upon her visage making her look remarkably 'human' which did not suit with her, and she refused to dwell on what it did to her image as she had little patience for any attention that the locals may attempt to shine on her. Karen had long since settled on her unusual hair color being the reason for the unwarranted attention, men believing that her hair color choice promised promiscuity or frightfully low standards, perhaps a share of both?

Tearing her mind away from the uncomfortable clothes that hugged her hips too lightly and created an uncomfortable, and unreachable, itch between her shoulder blades, Karen reflected on the situation. Of course, she knew where she was going as she would never enter such a place without having reports on it first. While she had not told Konrad where to meet her; she had told him to expect her, and she had little doubt that he would have picked out the worst ramshackle cesspit he could find to climb in and drink himself into oblivion on dubious beverages, so finding that had been relatively simple. Such was the normal workings of their meetings.

Turning her head slightly, she examined her newest officer, one Adell Williams, relatively fresh that she had secured the transfer to her command. Even now she pondered on the wisdom in her decision, while the boy had potential, the amount was still in question, but from what the instructors had told her, it seemed he was an idealist and that amused her to no ends, and she had bet that it would continue to amuse her. An idealist. Someone who had the luxury of a conscious, it was not too rare to find, but from what little she had seen, the extent of an idealist the young lieutenant was could almost be linked to a young child still believing in heroes and valiant knights and that made him interesting. While his test results were very good, it was that little facet that had caught her attention.

Turning her attention back to the sky before her, she settled in to enjoy the ride and ignore that abdominal itch.




Karen couldn't fight the raise of her thin eyebrow at the declaration that they had docked, she couldn't fault him for being green and nervous, but it was still something she did not expect and she also could fight the words that slipped out of her mouth, "Truly?" She asked rhetorically, making a show to turn her head and look out, "Why, yes, it seems so. Thank you for sharing that vital information, lieutenant Williams."

Stepping out of the ship, and she let her back stretch for the first time since they entered the ship, enjoying the feeling of the muscles in her back stretching and straining even if it was under that infernal clothe, "Williams," Karen said, her voice crisp and sharp, "While here, you are not to refer to me by rank, you may call me Lady Troth for the duration of our visit. If anyone inquires, I am a minor noble from Toten staying at the Korvan Estates. I am sure you can figure out your own position in the household should anyone pry."

Pausing to let her sharp eyes roam the surrounding boats, ignoring the shouts from far off voices, "Konrad is within an establishment known as 'Peg's Pitt' within the lower finical district. I trust you can take point?" She said gesturing before them with her left hand.

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Okay. I just.... T_T

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Adell Williams






...at least she has a sense of humor.

Whether it was because he was embarrassed or because he was irritated, Adell remained quiet until they had departed from the small ship, but quickly recovered when he took his first breath of fresh air from the outside world. A part of the reason why he did not care much about flying a ship is because they tended to make him feel claustrophobic and the filtered air just did not appeal to him as fresh air did. Much like his superior, he took his first moments to stretch his limbs but immediately stood up straight when she addressed him with her usual, firm tone.

....And so he became a manservant just like that. Or a butler. He found himself hoping he was the butler for a brief moment before realizing that it didn't matter.

She said she was a minor noble anyway, so she should not be loaded enough to warrant there needing to be a head of servants.

..........
......
...
.

"Alright, Adm---...." he began, but catching himself. He cleared his throat before making his second attempt at his confirmation of orders. "I mean, as you wish, Lady Troth." he did not offer any sort of bow or flourish with his hands, but not because he was able to realize it would probably be seen as mocking her. No, he just simply did not know that much about his own role, save for the vague, general idea of what a servant did.

Williams had a basic understanding of the Kingdom from the map he had, on more than one occasion, looked over to find areas he might want to visit during vacation. Even though he had never been here before he could at least navigate to important landmarks and knew how to reach the different districts. This bar, the 'Peg's Pitt' had apparently developed a nasty reputation with one of the acquaintances he had spoke to about points of interest. They explained to him that it was a 'cesspool of Otanis scum' and 'a hellhole with shitty liquor and a stench that could kill a man'. So it made sense that he was going to avoid this place by any means possible were he to have a choice in the matter.

Of course the Admiral had to meet up with the Konrad guy there. The ONE place he did not want to go.

But Adell simply had to grit his teeth and bear it. He was a manservant, after all. And so, he did as instructed and took the lead, leaving their ship and the cacophonous screeching of ships moving to and from the dock at a moderate pace. With walking not really being the most exciting thing ever, Adell's mind started to wander a bit in order to entertain itself. Talking is usually the way to remedy this, but Admiral Troth just, for some strange reason, did not seem like the kind to enjoy a nice chitchat with one of her subordinates, especially not her newest one. The way in which Adell's mind wander was like so:

Now that I think about it... can I even pass off as a servant? I don't have the proper attire, do I? No, I don't! What kind of manservant wears a sweater vest, for crying out loud! Aren't they supposed to wear elegant, fanciful black clothing? This plan is just asking to be breached with such an obvious hole in it! Also, why do I have to lie? I hate lying. This is dumb. I should just go ahead and speak up about this, shouldn't I?

No... wait. I'm being a fool, aren't I? This is a plan by my superior, Admiral Karen Troth. A beautiful woman of young age who, while quite obviously out of her comfort zone in those normal clothes, made it to the rank of Admiral. I can not pretend like questioning her decisions is okay. Think, Adell. You know what you're good at. All this planning is beyond you currently, whereas Admiral Troth is known for it. It will be okay.

It will be okay.


By the time Adell.... well, calmed down, they were already pretty close to their destination. He exhaled in relief and it was audible enough for even Troth to hear, unless she was focused on something else for some reason.

Compared to the docks they had arrived at, the southern area was noticeably less-tended to. Trash littered the ground, the upkeep on the surrounding buildings was not being paid by the looks of it, and the occasional thug strode by, glaring at Adell and likely shooting lewd looks at the woman following him. It was anything but welcoming to the young man. Why couldn't they just go north? The richer districts were unlikely to make him feel like a mugging was going to occur at any minute.

No sooner than he was thinking this, the brilliant, bring neon sign of the 'Peg's Pitt' stole his attention. It stood on top of a large, clean build. With crystal-clear windows, huge wooden doors, and a pleasant smell, it looked like a mini castle compared to anything else around here. Wealthy-looking people entered and left the establishment, greeting each other warmly as they passed by, just like they were all old friends. It truly looked like a token establishment hidden amongst the garbage pit that was the rest of the lower district.

....except not.

What Adell actually found was a smaller, dirty building with a few punks standing outside of it and the sound of fighting coming from the inside. On the roof of the building, there was a place where a sign had obviously used to be, but the keyword was 'used' as in it no longer existed, having most likely fallen down quite some time ago. Williams managed to figure that it was probably the building they were looking for, since he could not imagine a worse place to meet up. To confirm this, Williams figured they would be better off asking one of the locals. He choose the least thugly-looking one that passed by, who happened to be an older man.

"Ye'! Now git outta my face!" was the exact response he got to the simple question, "Is this the Peg's Pitt?" before the older man stomped off as if offended by Adell's very presence.

"What a rude man." Adell thought aloud as his figure disappeared into the distance.

Feeling a bit down for being yelled at for no justifiable reason, Adell moped over to the shoddy door of the bar and opened it, waiting for the Admiral to enter before he would follow right behind her. Although this area really stunk of cheap booze and criminal activity waiting to happen, he at least retained his ability to politely open a door for a lady, much like any champion of justice would do. It raised his spirits just a bit to know he could at least do something for someone else. Even if it was something simple like opening a door.

Even if the person he opened the door for had just made fun of him not too long before.

The setting changes from Otanis to Novahlis

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Whelp.
Does this mean I'm officially part of the club now? :')

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Erik dawdled in the horrific pub he was in for a few more minutes before deciding to leave. He had splurged, using a few of his shiny new coins to buy himself a pint of his own, one that wasn't half full with someone else's backwash. It certainly wasn't the artisan brew he had grown accustomed to in Daniel's house, but it hit the spot well enough.

Placing his payment on the counter as he strolled out, Erik looked back, with almost some vague fondness, at the stain on society known as Peg's Pitt. It was truly the most disgusting establishment he had ever been in. But he had been in it three or four times in the past few days he had been in Otanis, and it had begun to grow on him. Luckily, he would hopefully never step foot in it again after the next day, so he'd no longer have to breath in the foul stench the permeated every cubic inch of the place. He breathed in deep, a last farewell, and stepped out into the daylight.

Two rather out of place figures passed by him on his way out, and he wondered exactly what two people of clearly military status were doing walking into the most un-military locale in Otanis. Then again, judging by the way they were dressed, they weren't hoping to be recognized as military, but the detail did not escape him. It was all in the gait. People could talk about eyes all the wanted, but eyes lied. Now, the way one walked? That was special. People often didn't know enough to lie with their entire body, and that made someone's bearing an excellent thing to judge them by.

He paid them no mind. Whatever nefarious things the government was up to, that was the government's business, not his. He stayed out of the public eye, and that included never remaining on an official's mind for long.

He whistled softly as he walked. It was, after all, a good day. He had conducted good business in Otanis, established some quality contacts, and made some nice cash. A good day indeed. And it would have continued to be a good day if a weight hadn't suddenly pounced on his back with a giggle, hands encircling around his head to cover his eyes.

He hadn't heard footsteps, so whoever the mystery person was must have been lying in wait for him, he rationalized. He should have known. Perhaps the alcohol had dulled his senses. Just then, the figure spoke.

"Guess who?" a feminine voice whispered in his ear. She sounded on the brink of breaking out into peals of laughter.

Erik's jaw clenched, and with a quick movement, he quietly ducked into a side alley that was empty of people. Hastily, and slightly angrily, he pulled the giggling girl off his back, who instantly pouted.

"Erik," she whined, "aren't you happy to see me?"

"What are you doing here, Alana?" he hissed brusquely. The girl's face fell. A twitch in Erik's jaw betrayed his guilt, but he plowed on. "Daniel will have a fit if he finds out you're here! A respectable lady of nobility doesn't sneak off to another goddamn country without protection, for Christ's sake!" He turned swiftly, his cape flying behind him, as he rubbed his cheek in frustration. "Dammit," he nearly shouted. It was accompanied with an aggressive punch to the brick wall. Alana flinched at the sight of his now bleeding knuckles.

Erik tried to ignore the soft sobs that now came from behind him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking, "I just wanted to see you. And I thought... I thought you'd be happy to see me."

Erik's arm trembled as he bit hard into his bottom lip. God, he was an asshole. Just as suddenly as he had turned away, he turned back to the now frail-looking girl. Grabbing her, he pulled her into his arms, placing his forehead on her shoulder. She instantly buried her face into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him.

"Shit," he muttered, "I'm so sorry, Alana, I'm so sorry. I was just worried about you. It's so dangerous for you to be out here alone, and I can't lose you too, dammit, you know I can't lose you too.Of course I'm happy to see you. I miss you and Daniel more than you could ever know. "

She pulled back, staring angrily into his eyes, her red rims making her irises look greener than ever. "Then why won't you come home?" she exclaimed, loudly. Then, leaning into him once more, quietly, "If you miss us so much, why won't you come home?"

Erik swallowed down the ball forming in his throat, guilt wracking him. He had left his family behind with the barest goodbye, never really stopping to think how it might have affected them. Daniel had been as stoic-faced as ever when he left, Alana the visage of the perfect gentlewoman. But thinking back on it, hadn't he seen a twitch in Daniel's jaw, an unshed tear in Alana's eye?

"I...I can't," he finally managed to get out. "I just can't, Alana, not now."

There was a pause. Then, "What if I call Jericho?"

Jericho. A stupid game he and Alana had played in the past when she preyed on his pride to make him do stupid things for her. It was named after the first term she had given him, to steal a trinket from a boy named Jericho. He had insulted her, and she had wanted revenge. Luckily for her, all she had to do was tell Erik he was incapable of accomplishing the task. She had her trinket within the day. Over time, it evolved. She gave him a task, and if he couldn't accomplish it, he had to do one thing for her.

"No, Alana," he said, definitively, an edge to his voice. He wouldn't be falling for her tricks.

"Please," she pleaded.

Another pause. He sighed. "Fine." He had grown in skill. Whatever goal she assigned, him, surely he would be able to complete.

She brightened, immediately stepping out of the alley to glance around her surroundings. Her eyes settled on the palace, a wicked gleam in them. "Rob the palace," she said suddenly, giddiness in her voice. "You have a week."

"What?" he shouted, but it was too late. Alana was long gone, practically skipping down the street, leaving him to wonder exactly how in the hell he was supposed to steal from the most secure building in the country.

The setting changes from Otanis to Novahlis

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#, as written by Taunbon
In my defense... there was a lot of editing involved... and I forgot to change the little tab thing which I swear people only put that in to make writers mad. >.>

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#, as written by Taunbon
Kingdom of Otanis, Lower Financial Section - Peg's Pit
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Konrad's fingers continued their rhythmic beating upon the stained wooden surface, an almost involuntary action as he continued to wait for his 'handler' and his patience was wearing thin. He had not bothered to keep track of the time as he had an inkling that doing so would have only frustrated him further. Besides the tapping, atrocious concoction that was 'Peg's Special', he had very little in the way of entertainment, and so studying the nearby patrons was all that was left for him.

It wasn't such a tragedy as small pubs had a way of attracting the... oddest of flavors. Since he arrived, there had been a total of three fights a few of which ended up with a fatality who was unceremoniously dumped into the streets after their pockets had been rifled through, two of which started out as nothing more then one party feeling like the other was giving them the stank eye, but Konrad strongly suspected that the second had been a calculated hit by an enforcer to send the proper message, but if it, indeed, was that then he could only hazard as to what kind of message it was. The most common was, 'Don't fuck with us,' which would work if the dead man had been a part of a rival or new and coming small time gang. The final had been his personal favorite, two large, rather stupid, men fighting over the attentions of a rather comely woman that Konrad strongly suspected would have happily followed whichever flashed the most cash.

Still, Konrad supposed every man liked to feel like a hero once in awhile, there to save the dashing damsel in distress, prove their manliness to all the reprobates nearby by both beating down another man but insinuating a different kind of fighting between the sheets with said damsel, personally, Konrad would have advised them to go behind the pub and simply pay a small fee to one of the working ladies who were, more often than not, ready to indulge fantasies for a little extra.

Lifting the tarnished glass to his lips, he took a small sip, only a high tolerance to dubious drinks kept him from retching as the thick, chunky liquid-akin concoction slid down his throat burning all the way down and forcing his liver to crumble in crushing defeat. His eyes rose to the door as a young... boy? Boy, opened the door for the almighty bitch herself to step into his temporary sanctuary, "About fucking time."


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Karen's eyes danced and zipped around, examining people, the trash, the buildings, the windows, the loose pebbles kicked by people's feet as they shuffled along in their drab existences as she absorbed the world she walked through. The further they got into the lower financial section, the more Karen felt at ease. While, yes, she had no doubt that many of the men, and a few of the women, would happily attempt to remove her from her valuables, dignity, and clothing if given the chance, they were all easy to read. Their motives always shown upon their face.

It was the world of white marble, glittering gems, and glimmering metal that Karen had learned to tread with care. The world of half-smiles and half-truths, false hopes and hidden blades. People assumed beauty meant safety, but they were wrong. The 'common' people and the 'nobility' or the 'wealthy' all had their own vices and monstrosities, they were merely more inclined to hide them then the people currently walking past the duo. She always found it amusing how much people feared and dreaded running into a mugger, when they should have been thankful, a mugger would at least look them in the eye when stealing their belongings, the same could not be said of kings and bankers.

Already assumed to her role as a posh, but naive, noble looking to do something rather dangerous and risque, she would let a light blush fill her cheeks, let her shoulders sink into a signal of submission, and glance away whenever a man made lewd gestures at her or groped her with their eyes. A fellow slave once told her that a man will always be willing to believe a woman is both helpless and interested in them, and it was something that had always proven true. Even among the military where her title was known, it was not uncommon for her to run into men believing she needed their protecting or underestimated her due to her appearance, but it worked to her advantage often enough to avoid being a true annoyance.

The edge of her lips tipped up at the man's rather inspired response to her lieutenant's question. Lieutenant Williams was lucky the man had responded at all, but she could not help but feel the tinge of amusement out how out of place he looked. She was intentionally trying to appear out of place, but he truly looked like he did not belong. Almost as if something incredibly unpleasant had latched itself to the bottom of the shoe, and she had to admit it was the right choice to bring him along even if only for his discomfort.

But he was to surprise her, it wasn't him opening the door that surprised her, it was why he did it. It wasn't unusual for people, especially men, to open the door for her seeking either her favor as an admiral or a woman, often times both, but at least from what her eyes could see, he merely opened the door because she was a woman. Not for, but simply because she was. A polite, and innocent gesture born from a subconscious action extending from morale values, it was... an interesting anomaly. Karen paused in the door way, letting her eyes trace his face for a few moments, before finally giving him a small nod and stepping into the dark, dank tavern. The first thing she noticed was not the people, the lighting, the dubious spills on the ground; it was the smell. The smell of sweat, grime, mold, and other quantifiable things even she would not mention in polite conversation.

Her Indigo eyes scanned the room before falling on the small booth near the back of the pub, on Konrad.

Slipping through the tables and careful to avoid any puddles, she made her way over to the bounty hunter when a movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eyes, the world seemed to slow as the small, toothless man leaned out of his chair and raised his hand, crushing an internal sigh, she watched the hand inch closer and closer until the resounding smack filled the air as the man smacked her rear earning a howl of laughter from his friends and followed it up with a rather lewd comment on what he could do for and to her.

Karen played her part, stumbling forward slightly, lips parted and giving out a soft cry of pain and surprise. A strand of her hair laying across her face, knocked free from her movements. Placing her hand on the spot, she covered herself and lowered her shoulders, once more giving off the illusion of fear and submission as her eyes lowered to the floor. Annoying, yes, but she was rather glad she caught the movement, if she had not seen it, she would have been rather nonreactive to it as even though she had watched him hit her, she had not felt a thing the only alert to her was the light pressure and sound. It would have been a simple matter to crack his wrist, or to shatter the small glass and impale his throat down upon it and enjoy the satisfying gurgles and pathetic gasp for life, or perhaps to show mercy and snap his neck with her thumb, but she had a role to play at the moment so she did none of it, yet unbeknownst to the man, he would rue that singular moment for the rest of his misbegotten existence.


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Did he do something wrong? A simple nod would not have made him feel uncomfortable in the slightest, but the blatant stare made Adell think something was wrong with what he did. He couldn't imagine what was wrong, though. Could it, perhaps, have something to do with how he handled that old man? No, she did not seem mad or anything. At least, not anymore than she typically was.

Unsure as to what the whole moment was about, Adell followed behind his Admiral into the smelly tavern and investigated his surroundings with a disgusted, but curious eye. While he could honestly sit back and write an entire essay on all the reasons why he thought this bar should have some form of air freshener or the like, he was more concerned about the appearance of this place, which managed to look even worse on the inside than the outside. He had, originally, thought that possible. Drunken yelling and shouting, dried blood on the floor, and questionable hygiene characterized the entirety of the bar. Aside from Lady Troth and himself, there really was nobody else who looked like they'd seen a shower before, and Adell couldn't help but breathe through his mouth while they walked through the establishment.

The thugs in this place all looked ready to start a fight from the moment he and Troth had entered. Adell was not blind to the mean looks he was receiving and it had made him quite nervous. Would someone here attempt to start a fight on him just because? He couldn't answer that question with an answer he wanted, so he tried not to think about it. It would be great if they could just maneuver through the sea of filth and deal with their business as fast, quiet, and efficiently as physically possible so that they could vacate the premises before anything violent happened.

Yes, that is exactly what Adell was thinking just before a toothless customer decided it hilarious to give a firm smack to his superior's ass and then laugh and joke about it.

Up until that point, he would have loved nothing more than to be the silent servant that Troth had wanted him to be. Up until that point he wouldn't say anything unless asked to by Troth. Up until that point, Adell wasn't completely angered. Forgoing the whole common sense thing and instead opting to take a more brutal, violent response to the lecherous man's actions, Adell did what he did best, which is beating people up. The speed and strength behind the young man's punch was nothing to scoff at. The very action of punching was almost too quick for someone to notice, especially by the very man it was aimed at, who was certainly not expecting it. As it flew through the air, Adell briefly wondered if this was the correct course of action. He was certain that the Admiral could give this man a beating much worse than he could, and her visible reaction was unlike what he'd expect from her judging by how she acted before this point.

So she really wanted to play the helpless noble? Oh...

Well, it was much too late for him to do anything now. His punch was thrown, and it certainly was not going to be stopped by anything other than this unfortunate man's face. All he could do is watch as it connected perfectly and sent the man flying out of his chair and onto the ground, where he then lay unconscious.

As he then received many looks of confusion from just about the entire bar, he thought of a way he could recover from this. He cursed his inability to remain professional in the face of an injustice, but he did not regret what he did to this man. He deserved it. And any other pervert who would dare lay a hand on a lady like that deserves the same. In fact, this man was lucky the woman he had groped hadn't decided to retaliate. Justice was served to him and there was no going back now. He knew he had to make it clear what just happened and why.

"I do not tolerate disrespect towards Lady Troth." he clearly stated, almost as if a challenge to everyone else in the bar. At the very least, nobody said servants can't kick ass, right? Yeah, he was one of those.


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As her eyes recorded what happened, imprinting it on her mind for future reference, her face danced to the tunes and acts of the humble play before her. Karen let out a surprised gasp as her apparent bodyguard and white knight struck down the villainous cur that had rose hand to fair lady. Clasping her hands in front of her small chest, she once again made herself seem small, eyes shining with mighty admiration and adulation for her mighty hero and bodyguard.

But her mind was elsewhere. While, by herself, she would not have bothered with a persona, she had been curious to see how he handled it, and so far... she wasn't quite sure. Karen had purposely left his position open to see what he would pick for himself, a simple servant? An estranged relative? A secret lover? A dearly beloved? And it seemed he had settled on a bodyguard position which fit, she supposed. Of course, if he had meant to be a bodyguard then he was doing fairly well even if he did not have the intimidating visage that was normally needed... Or had he chosen another role for himself and this was merely his sense of justice born from naivety and years of carefully spoon fed propaganda showing through? If she was to be honest with herself, as she always was, she was leaning more towards the latter. It was endearing, having someone stand up for her honor, if she still had such a thing, and she couldn't help but link it to a small puppy bringing her a trinket. She may not want the trinket, may have no use for the slobbered thing, but it was still charming.

Stepping closer to him to hide beside Adell, Karen reinforced the image of the scared young lady hiding behind her valiant warrior. Reaching out, she tugged on his shirt to urge him to move with her to the small table where a plain man with a hard glint in his eye was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide a large grin behind his glass.


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Konrad leaned back in his seat watching the bitch and her newest pet make their way through the small pub, he was confused as to what she was up to with her.. act as while it wasn't uncommon for her to go without her military uniform, it was uncommon for her to purposely put on in act in this side of the economic status, especially one that stuck out so much. The last time she did this she had pretended to be a prostitute much to the annoyance of her last pet, was that what this was? Some test or game to taunt and tease the newest puppy? He wouldn't put it past her. She was a bitch.

Then it happened, a moment that he would hold and cherish for a long time, an old man reached out and smacked her right on the ass. Being the tight ass she was, he was surprised his hand didn't shatter, but he let out a loud snort none the less. She needed a good spanking once in awhile to beat the bitch out of her, and while he toasted the man's unknowing bravery and newly signed death certificate; he was surprised, once more, by the little puppy lashing out and knocking the man over and out.

The declaration he made was almost adorable. What appeared to be an untried youth giving out a declaration and warning to a bar full of testosterone filled men was generally not a good idea despite what novels and stories had people believe, and was really, a quicker way to get someone's teeth knocked out. Spotting a few men starting to stand up, Konrad started laughing, a deep, hearty laugh which spread to the rest of the pub as they all brushed off the obvious challenge instead enjoying the antics that had just taken place. A few men pushed each other making jokes while most of the others returned to their drinks, but the old man, knocked thoroughly unconscious was being lifted by his friends and carried out, the looks upon their faces declaring, loud and brazenly, that they would be seeing the two again. Was it because they wanted to kick ass to avenge their friend? Or was it one of those macho trips that kicking their friends ass, somehow, implied a lack in themselves, but then, he further reckoned that it didn't mean jack shit in the grand scheme of things. It was a shame the older man had been left unconscious and carried out as Konrad would have bought him a drink, a feat onto itself as the only person Konrad bought drinks for was himself and even that was reluctant!

Leaning back in his seat, he moved his legs to make room as the bitch slid into the seat before him, moving against the wall to better conceal herself from what little light was there, but she took extra care to not actually touch the wall, itself which had... well, it was best to not think about what could have been on it over the years.

"So..." Konrad said drawing out the vowel as he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, "It is just so lovely to see you, your royal Bit-... Admiralness," he said purposely catching himself, "And you brought a little boy toy as well! I didn't know you were into the younger boys, so does he crack the whip or do you? I know how much you love to hear grown men squeal. Or is it the other way around? A reverse dominatrix kind of thing?"

"How disrespectful!" Adell wanted to interjected disdainfully. Who did this man think he was, speaking so openly ill against both himself and the Admiral? If Adell had taken a seat then he would have stood straight up, ready to bare his fists at this ignorant man. Though any actual attempt to voice this was purely in his head, his tense expression betrayed his unhappiness.

Karen said nothing, waiting for the normal spew to end, it was almost a routine they did. Normally, she would fire back, but not today, today was about watching the lieutenant and gauging his reactions and actions to the world around him. "Charming," Karen said, "My 'ass' is doing quite well as I am sure that was your next line of inquiry."

Konrad huffed at being denied the jokes he had saved for that moment, he had intended to save the best for last, but now it held little point. He had so much planned for that little instant, and such a thing was a long time coming, but no, she couldn't let him have that little tidbit of enjoyment. "Well, I hope it heals in time for the latest pet to be able to give it a rough spanking when it is 'morale' inspection."

Considering the first inappropriate statement was enough to rouse irritation at Adell, his subsequent voice of disapproval of Konrad's jabs and insults was nothing anybody paying the slightest attention to him should be surprised about. "You...! Stop calling me a pet and projecting your sick, masochistic desires onto me!" he growled. Why this man seemed to be so fond of pretending like Adell was some sort of sick deviant was beyond him, but it was not appreciated in the slightest. Plus, Adell never did have time to even think about s-s-s....sexu! And to think he would pair Adell up with the Admiral, of whom he admired and respected!

...He actually wouldn't mind, ///blushu

Needless to say, Adell was overwhelmingly pissed.

Konrad hide the small smile with practiced ease as the feeling of trimuph rose in his chest, while it was annoyingly difficult to get a rise out of the frigid bitch, getting it out of her newest pet was looking incredibly easy, "Is the 'ittle puppy mad? Does he want a biscuit? Do you want a biscuit boy?" he taunted waving an imaginary treat in his hand.

"Ugh! You're so insolent for some lawless thug!" Adell fired back, and Konrad could almost see the pet trying to wash himself of the conflict early, but there was no way in this righteous side of hell he was going to let that happen.

"Oh!" Konrad said purposely exaggerating it, "He pulled out the big guns! Insolent lawless thug! How will I ever recover from that?! It would sting even more if it didn't come from a yapping lap dog, go outside and chase after people, pee on things you want and play dead, the people are talking."

"Enough!" Karen barked, their display doing nothing more then waste time, more importantly, her time. Getting dragged into Konrad's games was not something one wanted to do. Arguing with a fool only created two.

Konrad opened his mouth to say something more, but decided he had poked fun at the kid enough, "Whatever," He said sullenly, like a child reprimanded by their parents, crossing his arms and pouting.

Making a show to look at her nails, rubbing her pointer finger to her thumb as if picking something distasteful from underneath her fingers, Karen shrugged, "And here I was considering giving you payment for your services this time."
"Whoa, hold on," Konrad said, his internal greed overcoming his pouting act, "Lets just slow the fuck down, you still owe me more then a few service fees."

"No. No I do not," Karen said, her voice holding a dangerous edge, "I deducted such cost for the destruction of the Esmeralda."

Throwing his hands up in mock exasperation, "I did you a favor. It was a shitty ship anyways, and that wasn't even my fault. It was a communications error."

"Of course, it was just like all my payments to you got lost devoured by the very same communications error," Karen replied easily, leaning back in her seat, while she was talking, her eyes were constantly dancing between the bounty hunter and the surrounding area never quite at ease.

"A nasty thing, that communication error," Konrad said, their eyes holding for a bit as the tension rose. It remained that way for a bit, the two staring at each other, Karen's face void of emotion and Konrad wearing his false half-smile.

As always, Konrad broke contact first leaning forward, "What's the job?"

Reaching into her pocket, Karen removed a small card and slid it across the table. Lifting it up, Konrad flipped it over and examined the apparent random numbers and letters, "Simple enough, why do you need me for this?" He asked curiously as his mind, long practiced at these dealings, deciphered the code she had chosen to use this time.

"It is time sensitive," She replied easily.

"Mmm, one of those. Alright. I can do it in... three hours," Konrad said before following it up, "Yes, yes, I know, I have one hour, but then I say I can do two hours then we settle on one and a half." He let his hand wave in the air dismissing any possible rebuttal as that particular dance was one he had no desire to participate in.

"Why don't you, my Admiralness, take the puppy for a walk while I am out. I shall leave the information at your ship, I would hate to force you to look upon my gorgeous face then deprive you of it again," Konrad said, placing his hand on the center of his chest... under his fairly plain face.

"How very noble of you," Karen said, her normally sharp voice filled with a slight bored tone.

"The noblest," Konrad said draining his dubious drink and pushing himself up from the table, "Don't let anyone smack you on the ass on the way out."

"Charming," Karen said as she slide out from her chair, "Leave the information on my ship in the docks."


Image



It had been surprisingly easy to find the mark, a small, weasel like man with a nose that was two sizes too big for his thin, almost sickly, face.

"I ain't tellin' you nuttin'" The weasle said, struggling in the bonds that held him to the wooden chair, the entire situation struck Konrad as entirely cliche. Small, weasel man, tied to a small chair in an abandoned warehouse, declaring he wouldn't say nothing in an exaggerated slum-born accent. It was moments like this that almost made Konrad believe he was in some two-bit over played story, all he really needed now was a monologuing archnemisis, an escaped princess, and the 'valiant' hero to really build up the tale, unless it was the kind of story where he was supposed to be the valiant hero, and he wasn't sure which he preferred.

A soft pat snapped Konrad back to the room as the man spat on the floor, "Really? Really?" Konrad asked, "You know I don't live here right? So you spitting on the floor achieves jackshit. Do you really think I would bring someone I was going to slowly torture for information to my home? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get bloodstains out of carpet? Well, not like there is carpet her, but you understand the general point."

"Fuck you," The over-sized nose declared, lifting his chin up, his eyes daring Konrad to make him talk.

"Okay, I am going to let you in on a secret, I am going to torture you. I am going to take those shears over there, and I am going to start removing your fingers all whilst playing this little piggy," Konrad said lifting up the large metal shears in question, "You are going to not say anything until about the third finger when I ask you, 'does this little piggy want roast beef?' which is going to be disappointing for both of us as I have always wanted to say, 'This little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home,' as the digit hits the ground, so how about we skip the cliche, I get to removing the fingers, you get to screaming, and I get the information, yea?"

Reaching down, he grasped the wiggling mans hands, the weasel trying his best to... well, weasel out of the straps, his mouth clenched as odd sounds struggled to escape the pressed lips, "So," Konrad said, the metal blades moved around his thumb, "This little piggy went to the market..."




Konrad tossed the bloodied shears on the small table, wiping his hands down with the weasel's dirty shirt, "See? Was that so bad," he taunted, some of the dried blood proving difficult to get from his skin with the shirt, looks like he would need to wash it which was just... wonderful since the warehouse lacked running water which meant he would have to walk around with his hands in his pockets. He should have brought gloves.

The weasel like man was bent over, his long, greasy hair a curtain hiding the tears that ran down his face, but not the broken sobs that escaped between his gasps for air, "Please, please let me go," He said, the word shaky and punctured be nemours deep gasps for air.

"We both know how this is going to end," Konrad said tossing the shirt aside, giving up on the prospect of getting the red stains from his hands, "Come on, you knew the second you entered this building that this is where you were going to die," he said, his fave devoid of the usually mocking grin that had been on his face before, an intimidation tactic to get information that was no longer necessary.

"P-please don't kill me," he pleaded, "Sorry," Konrad said, his voice not conveying any true feelings of sorrow or regret at the prospect, "But I have my orders."

Drawing one of his pistols from its holster, he leveled it at the mans forehead and pulled the trigger, ending the man's pain and life, his dreams and desires, his past and future, in a single moment... and recoloring the wall behind the weasel in new shades of red and bits of gray.