The Golden Sparrow - Moire Rouge

[lum]

MARSEMBER - Mirtul 1353

Moire answered the question in Edward’s eyes as she poured herself a glass of wine.

“If I’ll ever be coming back? Hm. I don’t know.” She raised her hand, as if to warn the thief and smuggler to silence.

Edward smirked a bit as he was quite used to Moire’s rather arrogant and prideful behavior. She always had completely ignored the fact who he actually was. Most other people he just would have stabbed, but this Sun elf always has had something about her that was hard to resist. In their cool business world there wasn’t much room for love or anything, yet he could not help himself but to admire the fine elven lady wearing a layer of sheer material that left pretty much nothing to the imagination. He breathed deeply from behind his purple mask, and flicked the cloak that hung over the chair, up and over his head.

He shrugged at her hand sign, ignoring it pretty much in the same fashion like she has always ignored his position versus hers. “As you wish, Goldie. I’ll see to it you have a safe passage…”

The sound of her voice betrayed the irritation over his interruption. “But, did you really expect me to believe that you would let go just like that…?”

Edward sensed an instant, avaricious lust to possess this woman full of pretension, her arrogance and vanity actually beckoning him. She was right. He didn’t want to let her go really, even as he realized she was more than a handful. He admired her expression when she turned to him, so business-like as though they were merely going to sign some contract, while he just knew… deep down inside, Moire was enjoying this a lot.
He just knew she knew she had him drooling all over her appearance even as he wore a concealing mask. How she did that he didn’t knew, but then it struck him it might have been the pause between her question and his reaction. She just knew he was staring at her. And his heart practically thundered in his chest as her hands casually splitted open her robe.

Was she… inviting him?

As Edward stepped towards her, it dawned on him what she was doing.
Moire was doing what she always has been doing. She was cutting a deal… and he, he was unable to peel his eyes away from the offer.

The cougar she was…

Such a shame the deal would only be with him, and not with the rest of his gang. It was always good to have something extra up your sleeves. Just as he assumed she simply pursued her own agenda.

[lum]

MARSEMBER - Mirtul 1353

After setting fire to a few candles, the massive half-orc stomped across the floor towards the door, pulling up a chair from the ground on his way there. His bloodstained spiked cap shaded a pair of deep-set eyes as he looked up after another knock on the door of his accomodation.

He grunted. "Moment!"

He looked at his paws and sniffed at his armpits. A to him pleasant odor wafted up from underneath. Then he squinted at his table, and at a bowl of fruit on it, the apples' skin was a bit wrinkled but still good enough. A nice bottle of spider cider and rumple-snout was standing next to it.

With the back of his paw he brushed off the crumbs of the table cloth and readjusted the piece of fabric until the folding lines matched with the edges of the piece of furniture.


After that he moved to the door and opened it. For a moment he regarded the petite Sun Elf female standing before him, his enormous fingers absently scratching at his rear.

"Well?? Aren't you asking me in for one last time?" the elf displaying an economical smile asked.

"Rougie should not go. Rougie should stay here."

Moire's smile changed to something more fond-like. "I know, big fellow, but Rouge wants to see a little bit more of the world."

The half-orc stepped aside to let her in, the candle light his form blocked streamed now on the pretty elf's face, giving her an even more golden appearance.

The Sun Elf merely briefly appraised the accomodation, a place she considered a swine stall, but her former body guard just rather had it this way so it's a topic she abandoned long ago.
Instead she turned to the big male as he closed the door. He was in love with her, no doubt about that.

Almost she had given him his way... even if just as a reward for his loyalty. Where would she ever find a loyal person like this?

"So, are you sure you aren't coming with me then?" the elf asked once more.

The almost monstrous male grunted and then shook his head. "Rougie has better connections with employers. Kor won't get far if go."

It was strange to see an half orc display fear, but Moire thought there was more behind it. For several years Kor had served her as her bodyguard, under the condition they would not leave Cormyr. Kor was a member of a secretive mercenary company that had its members sign contracts in blood. Not even she had been able to bargain Kor out of this and in the end could do nothing but to rest her case. If she were ever to leave Cormyr, Kor would not be following.

Still, it would be hard to forget this creature... this filthy, hideous and ugly creature she had come to like. Quite the feat for a Sun Elf like herself. But this creature, this fanged, dirty, slobbering humanoid that loved to cook his own foul-smelling stew of goblin flesh, and who spilled armloads of the substance as he ate it, had saved her life. And more than once after it.

She smiled as he pulled back a chair for her. She whisked her long dress in an elegant fashion to drape around her legs as she sat...


Too skinny anyways, Kor thought as his mind looked back on their memoirs with some regret.

[lum]

MARSEMBER - end of Mirtul 1353

It was just before sunrise when the carriage stopped near the most southern parts of Marsember that were still north of the Naval section, with in the distance the enormous outlines of Starwater's towers, the big Naval base the city featured. The vehicle had stopped sudden and with a slight shock, as if facing an insuperable obstacle.

There was a lack of shock however on the face of the only passenger sitting in back of the semi-open transport, and who now got up from her seat. The gown she wore relaxed when it was freed from the confines of her flamboyant chair; settling about her like a waterfall of metallic golden brocade. A necklace of white pearls shimmered along her bodice in the twilight when the Sun Elf -small or not- drew herself to her full height.

Moire lifted her chin, queenlike, her emeral eyes flaring vividly and then narrowed, anticipation lowering her voice as she addressed the few silent shady figures surrounding her and her driver on the carriage. “And... what is supposed to be the meaning of this?” She paused, letting the authority in her voice sink in and then added. “Obstruction of business implies compensation... which... will have to come from some source, one way or another.”


A silence fell, and it was so complete that the rustle of the fabric of her dress sounded louder than the waves that would set her free in the distance. One man stepped forward and pushed back his hood. Moire recognized him immediately as Keith Harlington, one of the Lieutenants of the city guard, a corrupted officer who shook hands with the one of the biggest smuggling gangs. And also a man she had helped climbing the social ladder by doubling and then trippling his fortune.

He spread his arms and feigned a helpless expression. “Sparrow, Sparrow… I’m not sure what I have to make of this… Aren’t you happy in our city? Not enjoying the local wealth?”

Just like many… Keith was someone who wanted more. Always more. Moire shook her head slightly. “I fear I fail to see the problem here?”

Keith clacked his tongue and drew himself up on the ladder of the carriage, leaning slightly towards the petite elf. “Perhaps if the problem moves closer, your keen sight might be able to detect it?”

His eyes gleamed like the eyes of a vicious dog. A dog… that is how Moire has always compared Keith. He was a good boy, as long as you tossed once in a while a few yummies, but he’d bit it off once too hungry. And this was getting pretty close. She could even smell it.
Literally...


“You should be grateful for the things I did for you… so why holding me here?”

The man shook his head. “You don’t see it? It’s really simple, Sparrow. You stay, and you live up to a contract that is forever…. Well, at least as long as I live.”

Moire looked back in his eyes. The slightest of smiles came to her face. A smile like she was wearing face paint, and as if she would smile more widely, she'd risk cracking her 'mask'. A smile that was more than ever well controlled as well as a chilly weapon. Casually the Sun elf snapped her fingers as she said. “I think I can help straighten out that one.”

The rustling of her dress was punctuated by the sound of steel leaving sheath all around them. The shady figures that have been surrounding her carriage, reacted startled upon noticing they were surrounded themselves.

Moire glanced around, seemingly pleased with the sight of dozen of armored figures stepping out from the darkness, and then turned back to Keith, looking at him mockingly.

“If you wish, we can settle our business right here, and right now? For me it is all the same. I will bow to your… superior judgement,... Lieutenant.”


Involuntarily, Keith frowned…


One hour later Moire boarded the ship that would take her to new horizons. But she did not so before sending a small token of gratitude to Kor.

And as soon as she arrives at her new destination, she would look around to invest in protection and a bodyguard or two as decent as the half-Orc has been.

[lum]

MARSEMBER - end of Mirtul 1353

How she could be sure reprisals wouldn’t be ordered by Lieutenant Keith Harlington?

The mirror in her cabin on the ship reflected a somewhat sad smile...


Sometimes countermeasures were needed, whereas from her point of view a countermeasure was a step decided against complex problems in a more immediate sense, and to ensure that business and other operations could continue to evolve. Countermeasures for said problems were solutions that would eliminate problems for good, removing them at their roots’ cause. And to Moire it was vital that said countermeasures got rid of the symptoms of a problem effectively enough in order to allow everything else to continue smoothly. That has always been part of her trademark during her time in Cormyr. In fact, it was obligatory if one wished to survive around here.

A knock at the door had the Sun elf -sitting on the bed with her legs curled up- look over. Her lips parted and she found her breathing briefly quickening at the prospect of who might be at the door, and with what news. A gaze at the porthold told her it was in the middle of the night, so it probably was something and someone she had been expecting. Right on time, as the ship would set out in a few hours. And she -really- needed to know.

Moire got up from her bed, brushed her hand over her golden hair, held her breath and opened the door a crack, a strip of yellow light cast from her room painting a shady figure’s face. The hooded man who was waiting behind the door, merely lifted up a plump bag he was holding and nodded to the elf.

Moire tilted her chin up and opened the door wider, moving aside. Her nightly visitor stepped inside, and held open the bag for her. Merely briefly Moire peeked over and nodded contently at the sight of Keith’s head inside.

“Get rid of it. What did you do with the rest?” She asked as she almost erotically dropped a handful of gems in the man’s gloved hand.

“It serves a purpose… madame Sparrow.”

More she didn’t need to know. Without a further word she opened the door of her cabin again and let him out.

Barking dogs never bite was a common and popular saying. But she knew that she would never reach her destination since the dogs with the loudest bark are the ones that are the most afraid.

And they tend to do silly things...

Thinking two steps ahead of others was a very valuable thing to be able to do. It helped being effective and avoided an endless line of unnecessary jobs. It was even better if one could work three or four steps ahead. She really put in the time and effort to figure out what she wanted and how to get there, and her preferences were just as sharply outlined as the muscles of an athlete.


This time the mirror reflected a smug smile...

...

[lum]

DRAGONMERE - The first day of Kythorn 1353

The Lake of Dragons was rough and the rain came down heavy on the ship’s deck above her. Bad weather, that was one thing. The Sun Elf, the only elf on board as a matter of fact, looked up annoyed from her administration. She was totally unimpressed by the captain’s instinct and the course he had set out -being east and then west-, by his crew and the way how they handled the sails, and finally... by her measly accomodations in which she bumped herself easily into the wood each time the ship rolled from one side to another. They hadn’t even brought her tea yet!

She mopped her forehead. Ugh, even slavers were more merciful with their cargo. The exclusion of fresh air was intolerable, the air-ports had been closed ever since the first flash of lightning. The captain’s profession required that he would come down to at least check upon his passenger, especially when she was a considerable source of financing. But she assumed he had either fainted, or was a complete, uneducated foul.

“Gods, does no one do anything at all to try and keep this vessel under control??”


The blonde elf gripped tightly on the sides of the integrated desk-table as the ship took another fourty degree roll. It was crazy and outrageous that a captain allowed his ship rolling so heavily with each swell of the sea. When she arrived on her destination, she would do everything in her power to have him sanctioned for his crimes, raping the wood that resembled this ship being one. After another heavy roll towards starboard side, and a creaking sound that told her the timbers of the hull were strained, the Sun Elf had enough of it.

Just as she made an attempt to step towards the door, the ship pitched over, and the fire lamp that had been standing on her desk, fell on the floor and rolled down the slanting wooden floor only to crash into the wall. Fiery sparks sprayed in all directions as the glass broke, and the elf saw herself forced to put out the flames by using some of her carefully preserved magic. Magic she only used during emergencies.

“This is nuts!” She spat, on the verge of losing her temper. “Who the hell they think I am??”


Finally, she managed to reach the door and unlocked it, but she didn't step into the corridor before setting a new lantern aflame with a soft tune. She flinched when there was a high pitched sound of crushing wood from the deck below, probably the cargo that had abruptly broken loose and dropped into cabins’ walls. Yet there was no one yelling or running to see to it, and as a matter of fact, aside from the sounds of the storm and the wood groaning and moaning over its abuse, it was dead quiet on the ship. Doors along the corridor in front of her flapped, and though she could see rather well in darkness, this deck seemed shrouded in the darkness and felt completely deserted.

Once more the ship bumped hard into the seemingly rock-hard water, and the elf -windmilling wildly- lost her balance, landing hard onto the tilted floor and slid down a couple of feet. All doors slammed shut like the pieces of one of those domino games. All but one, which had knocked hard onto the elf’s head. For a moment her world consisted of nothing but sparkles, yet she recovered easily and rapidly as it hadn’t been such a hard blow, rather just the shock and surprise. She turned her gaze into the one room that was still open, the room in front of which she was sitting now on her butt.

She widened her eyes and paled visibly as she took in the scene in front of her, in that room, the very room next to hers. A man was on the bed with his head hanging down, his neck probably broken, his throat slit and his body and the floor were black with blood. It was if the darkness just had become even more darker, a sense of fear crawling up her back as she looked down the deserted corridor again. The ship plunged into another trough, but that didn’t stop Moire from grabbing the railing, climbing back to her feet and hurrying back into her cabine which she locked behind her.

The sound of her heart beating in her ears drowned out the noise of anything else.
My sword, where is my sword?!

[lum]

((Updated and reworked to match with Moire's revised bio

[lum]

The Sun elf focused on the sounds around her and thought she could make out torn sails flapping madly in the wind on the deck above. After leaving her room once more, first she had moved through the corridor from door to door, one step at a time and very often stopping to listen. The Dragon Lake had turned less rougher over the time she had been waiting in her personal cabin, thinking. She shook her head to herself. Normally the deck above her should be busy with sailors running back and forth, repairing damage, hauling the sails up and resuming their course to the west. But it was like there no one around, no one aside from that one dead body in the first room.

After briefly peering through the window, Moire perceived dark storm clouds that were still directly overhead, but here and there was a crack of a lighter grey. The heavy weather was clearing up and the moon had started casting her light, sending it struggling through the massive clouds of the storm ridden sky. Slowly yet gradually the elf made it to the deck, peering from the doorway and taking in the damage. Bolts of anchoring chain-plates had been cleared out of the ship’s hull, resulting in an unsupported mast with full sails having snapped like a twig, its rigging hanging over one side of the drifting ship in the water. Thick droplets of rain were still falling from the sky on a deck scattered with ropes, pieces of splintered wood and railing pegs. Snapped lines danced in the wind above, and a with moisture laden wind passed through the remainder of the masts and shroudlines, creating a low pitched and almost mournful hum that was heard above the sound of waves crashing against the rudderless hull.

If the crew had been around before this violent storm would have swept over this ship, there wouldn’t have been this amount of damage, and thus something must have happened to them before, Moire observed. She needed to see if there were any around, and whatever supplies were in the lower holds as by the time they had this ship sailing again, days would have passed. With a bit of luck there might even be a spare spar. But there was no way she could cut the broken mast loose on her own, lower it to the deck and haul another one up here all by herself. She needed a few extra pairs of hands in the very least.


Deep down inside though the elf had a bad feeling about this, but aside from one dead body she hadn’t found any others. Perhaps they got locked up somewhere, and the more she gave it thought, the more she figured they had to be in a place where she couldn’t hear them, a place that was built apart from the deck where she resided. Moire’s gaze turned towards the stern that housed the captain’s quarters, and which rose up from the main deck like a wedding-cake structure. Moire glanced once more in the direction of the clouds, but it apppeared the storm had exhausted itself, spent from dumping rain and trashing winds that had turned their vessel in a floating hull filled with debris.

Carefully watching where she stepped, and with her blade and some of her song wards up, the elf sneaked from the hold towards the stern, hugging the shadows of the broken mast to stop and listen for a moment. There were no other sounds than the ones still present. She took a deep breath. This wasn’t good at all. The southeasterly wind played with her hair as the ship went up and down, plumes of frothy spray splashing on the deck, drenching the wooden floor with salty brine. She was out of options though, and thus started to make her way towards the stern, trying not to slip on the water covered deck. She took a few more minutes of listening before approaching the door that lead to the captain’s inner chambers.

When she opened the door, she knew it was too late as the scent of fresh blood wafted through the atmosphere from the captain’s map room. Even from the doorway and in the twilight, she could perceive the wet thickening crimson drops on the cream-colored nautical chart that hung on one wall, and she half expected that the bodies she was about to discover had died a violent death, just like the one in the cabin close to hers. It’s not like she hadn’t seen dead bodies before these days, the first one ever remaining the clearest in her memory as it had been a guy whoms skin had been peeled off his flesh. She was kind of used to blood but rather avoided any direct confrontations or any direct entanglement herself. During her time in Cormyr she had always done her best to avoid being drawn into the general chaos that involved fighting and bloodshed, carefully avoiding drawing attention to her person. That helped her and her business a lot as everyone automatically ignored her during an investigation. Well, until certain people got close…


And this time she was close to something as well, gripping her blade tightly as she entered the room, expecting some assassin was lurking in the room, waiting for her to take her down as next. Moire wasn’t too scared though, trusting the tricks she had up her sleeve would be enough to give her a chance. She was skilled with the sword as well, and was very good at feigning clumsiness before lashing out with a deadly strike of her own, without needing tremendous force to the blow. It was something that almost worked every time. At least the few times she had needed such technique. Moire frowned though when the bodies came into sight, and she noticed all their throats were sliced wide open from ear to ear. It was a pure massacre, but it were the only wounds they seemed to have. The captain was laying stretched out backwards on his bar, like he had staggered back and trashed himself between the bottles. Blood dripped from the table surface and coated several shards.

What on earth had taken place here was a mystery, especially since they all held a knife or short blade covered in blood close. The elf’s eyes narrowed as she examined the scene in front of her. It just didn’t make any sense. And the ship had perhaps survived the onslaught of the storm, but how was she supposed to make it to shore now?

[lum]

Under the sound of moaning ship’s timbers, the Sun elf frantically searched the captain’s personal cabin, tossing aside some junk and reaching for another set of scrolls. All in an attempt to learn more about what could have happened here. She had scanned the entire ship a while ago and didn find more bodies, let alone anyone else on board. So she had turned on to the captain’s journal and his drawers filled with papers. Lots of papers, an entire inventory of the ship’s cargo, sets of contracts, official looking dispatches, and then these carefully rolled up scrolls.

Thus far she had had no luck at all yet deciphering any of these scrolls. They were written in a strange language and it cost her quite a bit of her magic to assist her investigation. But what was on the pages didn’t make any sense at all to her. Just like the scrolls she had found in the map room, many splattered with blood, these scrolls appeared to be some sort of formula for converting things. She assumed these might have been tools and knowledge the captain used for his business and trade travels to distant horizons. There were names in them of places she had never heard of before. Liham, Lenachi, Silversun… among many others...and then one name she did hear before. Sigil.


She also discovered nautical charts on which routes to exotic destinations had been marked, contour lines in topographic maps that formed lands she had never seen before. Like from an alien world. At some point she even wondered if these were maps of another plane. She looked around with her hands on her hips before deciding to head back to the scene of massacre at the map room. Somehow her eyes were drawn towards the captain’s body again, and somehow they were drawn to a ring the man was wearing on his left hand. It was a very distinctive piece of jewelry, unmatched in its appearance.

When she slid it from the dead man’s pinky, she immediately sensed how unyielding the metal was. Like it had been forged to never get bent out of shape. It featured an onyx-smooth hermatite black format, and its surface felt like it had an extreme hardness and resistance against scratches. With a black pearl in the middle, the object was really a black regal beauty. Moire decided to keep it and after rubbing off the blood, she slid it on her middle finger. It sat a bit loose, but she was really delighted having such a master piece sitting at her finger.

Wait, what?? For all she knew this object could be magical, cursed even! Why the hell did she had to steal it from the dead and put it on her hand?? She looked at the ring still at her finger, her expression a mix of horror, fascination and awe. After years of experiences with objects of all sorts, including enchanted and cursed ones, Moire had learned to be extra cautious with merchandise, and even learned ways to identify and recognize those that might cause trouble.

Had she just been subjected to an ingenious manufacturing that somehow knew a way to by-pass her sense for caution? She stood there for what felt like an hour with her eyes transfixed on the ring. As if the jewelry itself insisted in occupying ones concentration... and whereas a logic mind would tell to move on and find a way off the bloody ghost ship...

[lum]

Finally, she reached out at the ring with the intention of remove the object from her finger again. But just as she touched it with the digits of her bare left hand, a thin white smoke broke from the pearl, curling up like as if a fat candle had been extinguished. Wisps of the creamy stuff curled and danced throughout the map room, first a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist, diffuse and light. Through it, the ship’s furniture was visible, but the contours of the wood turned less sharp as the mist congealed into a humanoid shape. It was a djinni, which was a creature from the Elemental Chaos if she recalled correctly.

This one’s features were aristocratic, his body muscular and athletic, and he was at least two or three feet taller than any man she knew. His clothes were a bit odd, reminding Moire of the fashion certain folks from the Land of Fate wore. He had a pair of eyes that were blue like deep water, and black hair cascading down his shoulders like molten onyx. At first his voice had been a whisper, no more than something like the soft susurration of wind moving through trees, before gradually turning luxurious and warm. There was a pleasant richness in his tone when he spoke, perhaps sweet in an odd sort of way.


“The very ring that sheltered me was my personal chamber, but would soon have become my grave. My fingers would stir the face of the one who freed me, her dominion of beauty and youth palatable delights. Even the slightest of her glances would feed my soul, any closeness triggering a panic, a fear that I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Yet, even as her very existence consumes me, I must quiet the flames, bring them down to a magnitude that can be contained, before allowing them once more to flow through me much… much slower than fire through dry wood. Perhaps we were born and exist to spark together… or...”

Moire displayed an energy-efficient smiled as she filled in his last sentence before he could,”... or perhaps you were born to become an exquisite manservant.” She cocked her head. “Nice speech, unfortunately it takes a little bit more… in perhaps a slightly ‘different’ way to charm me. Lets cut to the chase, shall we? You were the captain’s servant? Not that I assume it, but I ask it.”

The djinni bowed before her,” My name is Doraz, and yes I was his helper… until his passing… mistress…”

Better, much better, she thought. But there was no time for games like this. She needed to think of a way to get off this ship, and now she probably found one. As it appeared, he was making it really easy for her. But whether he was willing to serve her was yet to be seen. She didn’t have much experience either with these creatures, but she knew something about them and was on her guard.

“I assume you happen to have an extensive array of magical abilities, yes?” She gestured about the room at the bodies. “Though I’m not interested yet in this story. I more like to learn if you know a way off this ship before it becomes your watery grave after all.”

He nodded. “I could either provide wind for sails… or magically transport us from the ship.”

“Hm, alright, let me think a moment on the first option.” Moire looked around and in her mind ran through a number of things she had discovered. Abandoning this ship meant it sooner or later would end up in someone’s hands, and she wanted to make sure she had any valuable information along with her, including any evidence of her stay on board. It would prove far more beneficial for her ‘health’ if this ship would just disappear.

“If you could arrange the second option, I’ll glad accept and we can discuss business once we are safe. But first there’s something I have to do before we leave. Come.” And by that she walked out of the map room, assuming the djinni would follow her since she wore its only safe haven. Moire smiled smugly in front of herself. Her dilemma of how to disappear had just been solved.


...


Dark clouds of thick, black smoke billowed steadily up on the horizon, flashes of bright, orange light flickered at the point from where it departed. As the wind shifted, the ominous substance was blown southwards. And not much later... with only the bowsprit and stern rear out of the water, the rest of the ship sank below the waves with a hiss and a roar…

[lum]

“You did well back there, Doraz.” She said after they had stepped out on the deserted quay of whatever city. The djinni had used up most of its magical power to save them both, and now was left with only lesser abilities. Still, he might be useful, she only didn’t intended to show that.

“Thank you, mistress Rouge, I am your humble servant, and I will always try and earn your respect.”

“Why… Doraz?” She looked over briefly, faking only minor interest. “Why would you do such?”

Doraz blinked. “To earn my freedom of course, mistress?”

Aha, so that was what he was after. She already guessed that of course, but nevertheless, it was nice to involve this in this conversation she initiated.

“That is a huge request, Doraz, especially coming from you who only has lesser powers left now. I mean that teleport was great, but now you are… eh, how shall I put this… of lesser value? And I do know all too well what a Djinni is capable of once he is set free. That would be a lot of gain, don’t you agree?”

Doraz looked surprised that this strange elf seemed to know so much about his kind. Sensing it would be no use to go against Moire, he nodded. “I may have less magic now, but I am still able to serve. Perhaps I could earn my freed…”

“Perhaps I could throw this ring right here in the water.” She shrugged. “No one would look after it, no one would know.”

Doraz held his big hands out, palms outward. “Now, please mistress… there is no reason for…”

“And don’t interrupt me. I will propose a deal. If you think you can’t live up to it, I’ll do like I said. Now, do I have your full attention?”

“Yes... yes mistress, of course mistress…”

“Excellent.” The Sun elf turned to look out over the harbor’s water. “First of all, the chance you’ll ever earn your freedom is very small. However, I will grant you some freedom of movement and action up to a certain level. This will grow depending on how well you perform. In time you may even forget you’re a prisoner, and you will accept you work for me. I may start to treat you less as a manservant and more like staff. You may actually start to consider your new existence as normal. If not… this ring…” She slid it off of her slender finger and held it out over the water.

“Mistress… have merci… please…”

“Am I not merciful…?” She gazed over her shoulder at the big djinni, the creature’s physical dimensions in contrast with the petite female.

But the intonation of her voice felt like power itself, and made the djinni look smaller than its contours suggested…

“Is there anything you wish from me now, mistress?” Doraz eventually asked.

She canted her head. “I think I know the perfect start for your new job…”

Hidden: show

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