• Graded • Prized Possession

How Adrienna got her prized possession, the stiletto dagger.

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Adrienna
Posts: 30
Joined: Tue Jan 24, 2017 8:24 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Bandit
Renown: 34
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Prized Possession

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31st Ymiden 704
It was another night in the shady streets of the commercial sector. Today, she wasn't sure whether she was running Hot Red, Sleepy Teeth or some other high-priced drug. All she knew was that the pouch in her hand could not, under any circumstances, be lost or seized by someone else. She was given it by one of the dealers. It was to be the usual run as the night has settled over Athart. She would do what she's always done and keep to the shadows. Keep out of the sight of everyone but mainly Avriel who would more often than not go straight to violence at the sight of her. The animosity directed at her turned her hateful to the point that she wore a sneer on her face within the darkness as she saw one of the winged hypocrites pass by without noticing her. Many times she felt oh so compelled to launch forward bite the bastards and then run for it. After all, anyone could hardly catch her. She knew the streets of the commercial sector like the back of her hand and with an occasional sweep of her wings, she could give herself enough additional propelling to stay well ahead. She hasn't flown since leaving the Forest of Stone. She didn't want to. Every single time she was thinking about it, she'd shiver, get anxious. She despised feeling like that. She despised a lot of things for a child of twelve arcs.
She trotted casually through the dimmed light in the side streets. The sounds of nightlife reached her just fine from the main roads. Sometimes, she could navigate by them. Even the commercial sector had quieter areas where cafes were, as compared to the whore houses hidden all around. She turned a corner, knowing she was about to pass one of those bordellos. The sighs of the women inside these walls were seeping into the night air. It was just as sickening as the drunken men, swaying in the street towards the door that'd take them to cloud nine and a step closer to some sort of STD.
Adrienna passed by this establishment many times during her runs before. Many times, patrons would dare as much as near her with sleazy eyes and she'd dash for it, leaving them eat the dust, quite literally. She saw no reason for tonight to be any different and in her childlike naivety, since nothing has happened so far, she lost a certain amount of caution that kept her safe so far. Trotting to move along the wall opposite the brothel to minimise encounters with the patrons, a loud bang came from within the walls. She could hear shouting, sounds of a quarrel and perhaps a fight straight away. Then a tankard crashed through the window, the shattering of glass piercing the air sharply as Adrienna dodged to a side more as a result of reaction than an actual danger factor. It must have been a combination of lowered guard around this location as well as not paying attention to her surroundings as she would often do, but as she evaded the glass that was nowhere near to hurt her, she collided directly with another body that was stood by the very same wall she was trying to follow.
"Oy!" A bellowing voice thundered down towards her as she was trying to process in fractions of trills what happened. Confusion reigned over her mind for a moment, the magnitude of the voice itself striking apprehension into her heart. She tried to jump away like a flea during a frantic escape. But as she tried to spread her wings to give herself the boost a hand took a strong, painful hold on her upper arm. The precious package dangled in her grasp dangerously. She was jerked back like a ragdoll.
"Oy, where do you think you going?" The same voice very much growled at her and she saw the face of the man that she ran into. Her stomach turned. Arlin, the Pain Master was looking down at her with his scared face, missing eye and rotten teeth. Arlin was the menace of the streets. An Avriel grounded many, many arcs ago who suffered terribly as a useless slave, abused daily, tortured. It is said his owner took his eye. It was also said that the owner saw his own guts spill, his child throttled with them. The man was literally feeding off fear, hatred and love for gore and agony. He was famous for his craft. He also had an invisible aura of sickness around him. Bottom line was, though, that he was the last person anyone would want to run, let alone bump into. Anywhere. Period. Especially a little girl with drug pouch in her palm and fright written all over her face. He was loving it. Seeing that small expression, the blood drained face all white like the sun bleached walls, feeling the power of holding her thin arm, knowing he was leaving bruises under the grip, he was almost slobbering like a homeless at a feast.
"Oh no no. You ain't going nowhere little half-breed." His Avriel eye shone with the excitement of noticing her origins. The almost blackened teeth presented a horrifying grin. One would almost think that Arlin would get off on this sort of thing.
Despite feeling his bitten nails digging into her soft flesh, Adrienna began to squirm in attempts to free herself. The freeze response was over. Her whole body was screaming for a flight. Booming laughter of a sadist rang through the air, adding to the music of a fight inside the brothel. Few ladies of the night have already run out, barely dressed, facing a nightmare of their own. Adrienna's heart was frantically beating as deep inside her mind, the root of her terror was the fact that she had no way of escaping him especially as he roughly manipulated her, hand choking her neck for a moment as he shoved her against the wall, bringing over the shadow of his body within the night to cloak her completely.
She has long dropped the drug pouch. Both of her tiny hands were beating against the massive forearms, clawing at them for all she cared. But he kept laughing. Then the cold sound of steel being drawn send chills through straight to the marrow of her bones. She was suddenly aware of the beads of sweat along her temples and trickling down her back. The Pain Master has just drawn its favourite torture tool. The versatile stiletto.
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In that moment she grew still. Stiller than windlessness. Paralysed by the bitter taste of her stomach fluids on her tongue induced with the sour taste of dread, Adrienna was mesmerised by the cold and impersonal appearance of the blade. Stories were told about Arlin using the stiletto to make grown man urinate in pain. It's thin blade almost seemed to be able to fit in the narrowest of gaps, sharp enough to cut light in two as well. Adrienna whimpered. The bewitching beauty coupled with the tales made her own bladder feel like bursting. He just smirked like a madman that he was.
"Yous know what this is, right? Good. You remember it when I slide it right under your tiny fingernails, pop them off your little fingers like you would open a nut." Adrienna trembled. Tears were stinging her eyes. The foretelling of a snot was sliding down the inside of her nose and all she could think off was not peeing herself. For the love of all the damned immortals and dead originals, just don't have her pee herself.
Arlin glowed in the glory of the freaked out child as he neared his blade to the youthful body. He was but a fraction of a distance from the skin stretched against the child's clavicle that was poking from underneath the hem of the shirt when the rowdy crowd burst from the brothel. It was a bundle of men fighting, trying to restrain each other, fighting some more. Vulgarities flew left and right, arms and legs all in the air. It was a distraction, a momentary slip of Arlin's attention from Adrienna as he looked over his shoulder at the commotion. Flight response switched to fight as the child saw its very slim chance of escape. With the agility of a snake, she twisted her body and bit down on Arlin's arm with all her might. Her long-standing desire coming true in the most unlikely way.
At first, she was surprised how tender the flesh was, but as her teeth sank further she could feel the resistance of the bone. Her captor roared in an equal dose of bewilderment and pain. With a flick of a wrist, he blindly stabbed at her. The blade sliced through her wing like it would through a piece of paper. She screamed into the bite, her mouth filling with blood. Her assaulted wing twitched strongly and a zap of the pain ran through her like a heard of crazed ants. The bend of the wing jolted upward right into the cheekbone under Arlin's seeing eye. Whether it was the pain from the bite that threatened to tear the flesh of the bone or the blinding but lucky strike of the wing, his hold on her arm loosened. Like a dog, she shook her head, choking on the liquid in her mouth, before mustering the strength to push away and kick not caring whether her assaults landed but she could feel herself slipping free.
"You half baked bitch!" Arlin screeched, trying to hold way too many points of pain at once. Adrienna cared not for that. She manned up for one last shove, agony shooting through her wing, but the man was forced to take a few steps back, just as the bundle of enraged brothel clientele engulfed him in their own fight. She also cared not for the package. Too scared and already feeling trickles on the inside of her thighs, Adrienna turned and dashed. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the phlegm from her nose tasted salty on her lips and stuck in her wing she carried away her prized possession that would symbolise a win but also a shame. It would become her little toy for torture for when she'd follow similar fate to Arlin's.
"Lorien"
"Common"
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Come and get your Loot!

(There's plenty more where that came from)


ADRIENNA:
Rewards:

  • Story: +5
  • Collaboration: +0 (solo)
  • Structure: +5

These points can NOT be used for magic.

Knowledges:

  • Arlin: Hates Half Breeds Like Any Other Avriel
  • Discipline: Keep Your Anger Under Control
  • Flying: Does Not Come Naturally to Mixed Blood
  • Intimidation: Telling the Victim What You Will do to Them
  • Intimidation: The Sound of Steel Being Drawn
  • Logistics: The Drugs are More Valuable Than Your Life
  • NPC: Arlin, The Pain Master, grounded avriel thug
  • Navigation: Recognizing A City District by its Sounds
  • Politics: Full-Blood Avriel Hate You With a Passion
  • Psychology: Fear Paralysis Gives Way to Flee Impulse
  • Running: The Extra Propulsion of Wings
  • Stealth: Keep to the Shadows
  • Unarmed Combat: Brawling: Biting is Always Armed
  • Unarmed Combat: Brawling: Wings as a Weapon

Loot:

Masterwork Stiletto


Loss:

some of the contents of your bladder


Injuries:

A slashed wing that no longer matters.


Fame: -9

Funding a secret org. (drug running) (-3)
Breaking a city law (same) (-2)
Victory in single combat (luck or not, it would be noticed) (-4)


Devotion:

None of that


Comments:

PM me with any comments or concerns :)
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