11th Trial of Cylus, Arc 718
Drugs.
That’s what she needed to get her hands on. Wendell had taken the Raven, and with it, the supply of drugs they’d been trafficking from Nashaki to Rynmere and Etzos. It was hard to believe strange folk like the Qi’ora could also whip up a great batch of Ambrosia, but there it was, a rather large block of it just waiting to be sold… or used.
Freya clenched her jaw as she looked in her sack of things, waiting at a table to be served. It would be so easy to run back to her room and throw it all away… Do it, her mind persuaded, just a pinch of sap.
Silently and reluctantly, she closed the satchel and tied it shut, keeping it at her feet as food was served before her by a middle aged woman that looked a bit out of it herself.
“Excuse me,” Freya called, causing the woman to pause with a quirk of her brow, “I’ve got a brother who enjoys getting into the shady side of life. You wouldn’t happen to have any places around here known to be like that, do you?”
“Shady? Aye.” The woman’s accent was thick. Stronger than Freya’s Ne’haerian stresses. “Roight ther’ a’the Four n’ Hand. Bring a blade ther’s I were yah.” Thanking the woman for her time with some gold, Freya dove into her food while keeping a loot out around her. Subtle glances, nothing too suspicious. She didn’t want to draw attention by being overly paranoid but she couldn’t pretend she was safe here. Safety was an illusion, of course.
After a fulfilling meal, Freya gathered her things and headed for the door. The block alone could get her money, but who would buy something the didn’t know of? Her customers would be limited, therefore, she decided a stakeout was the best course of action.
It took some time to find it, but Freya finally stumbled upon The Four In Hand. It seemed lively and decorated from the from as loud voices and music greeted her even before she reached the road it was on. Casually, she made her way around the back and found several doors there that led out from inside. Parking it against the side, she kept an eye out for whomever was to walk up or out. Rookie deals did that and the biqaj would have no problem robbing the idiot of his goods.
Breaks passed until Freya could no longer feel the tips of her fingers and toes. Fearing potential frostbite, she started to gather her things up and leave out to the front when a rather scrawny woman collided hard with her shoulder.
Caught off guard, the drug trafficker fell against the side of the building, breath caught and shock keeping her eyes glued to the strangers. “What the sarding shit?” Freya cursed, the hood of her cloak falling off.
“I knew it.” The woman rattled. “Pathetic. Waiting for a dealer, are yah?”
“What dealer?”
“Save it, DuCarinos.”
Freya’s expression darkened. “Oh..?”
The woman watched Freya tug her hood back on and stand, red eyes piercing through the veil of shadow the environment provided. “So then you know of me?”
“Uh huh. And what’s Wilde’s wench doing this far north?”
Another pause… Then, expression changing, Freya relaxed. “Well, you know. Men. They grow bored with the same flesh and one thing leads to another...”
“What? Suck his cock to stay alive?”
She bit her tongue. “What else was there to do?” It was at this point, Freya noticed the blade in the woman’s hands. “You’ve come to finish me off then?”
Silenced grew until the woman coughed, soon spitting on the ground next to Freya. “Foul-borns suck at begging. I’ve come to take you to my Lord.”
“Lord? Are you one of his dealers?”
“Shut up and come with me.”
The spring loaded dagger against her forearm popped open and she swung, the blade quickly being met by her opponent’s. The sound of blades meeting rang sharply in the air, vibrating against the bone of her arm as Freya stepped back. She was freezing.
“You should know what’s on my head. Leave me be or die.”
The stranger laughed, “I’m shakin’ in me boots!” She retorted. “Come now, DuCarinos. If you’re this difficult, I can see why he left you!”
“Oh, you’re such a soothsayer. At least I was a wench, hag.” She gripped, moving back to swing and swing again, dodging punches and avoiding body slams until Freya saw an opening and swung the hilt of her dagger into the woman’s skull. She dropped instantly, leaving a breathless, shivering biqaj standing alone in the dark.
“Sarding bastard…” Stumbling slightly, the trafficker moved to the body, knelt down, and flipped her over only to hand hands reach out to choke her. How was this woman not unconscious?!
“Die already!” Freya grunted, smacking the woman’s hands away with her elbows before wrapping her own around the pasty, thin neck of the hag. She thrashed beneath her, face slowly turning as she struggled for something. Flashbacks of Qyona strangling her sprang to the forefront of her mind and she quickly released her hold on the woman. Thankfully, it was just enough time to cause her attacker to pass out. She was lucky…
She made quick work of sifting through her backs and cloak, looking for any hidden compartments or lumps in her clothes. There was one spot around her waist that stuck out and hastily, Freya cut the fabric to find bag fulls of a drug she came to recognize as Purple Perl. Just what she needed!
Now that she had what she needed, Freya ditched the unconscious body of the woman and headed inside to warm up. She’d rent a room for the customers she was soon to have, changed into some relaxing (and somewhat revealing) clothes, then headed downstair to more secluded parts for drinks, cards, and clients.
Several breaks passed as she found herself surrounded at a table in the back, having sold a bit of product to the folks in the chairs around her. Legs kicked up on the back of one of the chairs, a hand of cards were clenched between her fingers just before she snapped them down onto the wood. “Triple tens. Beat that.”
The folks who weren’t high groaned, one even got up and left the table. The others just chatted away and seemed oddly hyper focused. The Ambrosia was working...
Drugs.
That’s what she needed to get her hands on. Wendell had taken the Raven, and with it, the supply of drugs they’d been trafficking from Nashaki to Rynmere and Etzos. It was hard to believe strange folk like the Qi’ora could also whip up a great batch of Ambrosia, but there it was, a rather large block of it just waiting to be sold… or used.
Freya clenched her jaw as she looked in her sack of things, waiting at a table to be served. It would be so easy to run back to her room and throw it all away… Do it, her mind persuaded, just a pinch of sap.
Silently and reluctantly, she closed the satchel and tied it shut, keeping it at her feet as food was served before her by a middle aged woman that looked a bit out of it herself.
“Excuse me,” Freya called, causing the woman to pause with a quirk of her brow, “I’ve got a brother who enjoys getting into the shady side of life. You wouldn’t happen to have any places around here known to be like that, do you?”
“Shady? Aye.” The woman’s accent was thick. Stronger than Freya’s Ne’haerian stresses. “Roight ther’ a’the Four n’ Hand. Bring a blade ther’s I were yah.” Thanking the woman for her time with some gold, Freya dove into her food while keeping a loot out around her. Subtle glances, nothing too suspicious. She didn’t want to draw attention by being overly paranoid but she couldn’t pretend she was safe here. Safety was an illusion, of course.
After a fulfilling meal, Freya gathered her things and headed for the door. The block alone could get her money, but who would buy something the didn’t know of? Her customers would be limited, therefore, she decided a stakeout was the best course of action.
It took some time to find it, but Freya finally stumbled upon The Four In Hand. It seemed lively and decorated from the from as loud voices and music greeted her even before she reached the road it was on. Casually, she made her way around the back and found several doors there that led out from inside. Parking it against the side, she kept an eye out for whomever was to walk up or out. Rookie deals did that and the biqaj would have no problem robbing the idiot of his goods.
Breaks passed until Freya could no longer feel the tips of her fingers and toes. Fearing potential frostbite, she started to gather her things up and leave out to the front when a rather scrawny woman collided hard with her shoulder.
Caught off guard, the drug trafficker fell against the side of the building, breath caught and shock keeping her eyes glued to the strangers. “What the sarding shit?” Freya cursed, the hood of her cloak falling off.
“I knew it.” The woman rattled. “Pathetic. Waiting for a dealer, are yah?”
“What dealer?”
“Save it, DuCarinos.”
Freya’s expression darkened. “Oh..?”
The woman watched Freya tug her hood back on and stand, red eyes piercing through the veil of shadow the environment provided. “So then you know of me?”
“Uh huh. And what’s Wilde’s wench doing this far north?”
Another pause… Then, expression changing, Freya relaxed. “Well, you know. Men. They grow bored with the same flesh and one thing leads to another...”
“What? Suck his cock to stay alive?”
She bit her tongue. “What else was there to do?” It was at this point, Freya noticed the blade in the woman’s hands. “You’ve come to finish me off then?”
Silenced grew until the woman coughed, soon spitting on the ground next to Freya. “Foul-borns suck at begging. I’ve come to take you to my Lord.”
“Lord? Are you one of his dealers?”
“Shut up and come with me.”
The spring loaded dagger against her forearm popped open and she swung, the blade quickly being met by her opponent’s. The sound of blades meeting rang sharply in the air, vibrating against the bone of her arm as Freya stepped back. She was freezing.
“You should know what’s on my head. Leave me be or die.”
The stranger laughed, “I’m shakin’ in me boots!” She retorted. “Come now, DuCarinos. If you’re this difficult, I can see why he left you!”
“Oh, you’re such a soothsayer. At least I was a wench, hag.” She gripped, moving back to swing and swing again, dodging punches and avoiding body slams until Freya saw an opening and swung the hilt of her dagger into the woman’s skull. She dropped instantly, leaving a breathless, shivering biqaj standing alone in the dark.
“Sarding bastard…” Stumbling slightly, the trafficker moved to the body, knelt down, and flipped her over only to hand hands reach out to choke her. How was this woman not unconscious?!
“Die already!” Freya grunted, smacking the woman’s hands away with her elbows before wrapping her own around the pasty, thin neck of the hag. She thrashed beneath her, face slowly turning as she struggled for something. Flashbacks of Qyona strangling her sprang to the forefront of her mind and she quickly released her hold on the woman. Thankfully, it was just enough time to cause her attacker to pass out. She was lucky…
She made quick work of sifting through her backs and cloak, looking for any hidden compartments or lumps in her clothes. There was one spot around her waist that stuck out and hastily, Freya cut the fabric to find bag fulls of a drug she came to recognize as Purple Perl. Just what she needed!
Now that she had what she needed, Freya ditched the unconscious body of the woman and headed inside to warm up. She’d rent a room for the customers she was soon to have, changed into some relaxing (and somewhat revealing) clothes, then headed downstair to more secluded parts for drinks, cards, and clients.
Several breaks passed as she found herself surrounded at a table in the back, having sold a bit of product to the folks in the chairs around her. Legs kicked up on the back of one of the chairs, a hand of cards were clenched between her fingers just before she snapped them down onto the wood. “Triple tens. Beat that.”
The folks who weren’t high groaned, one even got up and left the table. The others just chatted away and seemed oddly hyper focused. The Ambrosia was working...