Crushed Violet

[*UQT]

She heard a key turn in the lock and she stood, showing her hands as was the protocol for prisoners.  She was a shell of her former beauty; hair matted and skin dull.  Her frame had barely enough meat to it to keep her standing from years of starving.  Prisoners got fed with what was left... After the dogs got done. 

Raphael Olaundran himself walked in with a tray of fresh baked bread and a glass of milk.  She hit her knees and wept, "I knew... I knew one day you would realize I was not the one to blame for my mother's wicked acts... I knew that-"

"Shut up," He interrupted coldly, "You have effectively ruined my life."

She couldn't breathe. 

"Your mother is dead," He spat, "Killed herself rather than live with ME.  I gave her everything!"

Absolute, venomous hatred filled his eyes. His hands clenched on the tray he was holding.  She just sat there.  She couldn't have told you the last breath she forced past the lump in her throat.  She just looked up at him, in all his golden glory.  He had been her world, everything she looked up to, and to him she had always been nothing.

"The rumors when you were born were bad enough," He ground out, "But between the lords that admonish me for keeping you alive after your attack and the ones that whisper about me keeping a poor shy girl in a jail cell for the mistake of being born my bastard, securing any political influence at all has been impossible. My great family has been brought to a stand-still in Sembia and it's all your fault!"

When the ability to move returned she could only double at the waist and sob pitifully.  It stung her dehydrated eyes to give up the water.  Her stomach twisted angry at the smell of the bread, "P-Please... I didn't mean for any of this... I-I didn't ask to be born!"

A harsh kick laid her on her side coughing and he glared down at her, "I told you to shut up. Marcus would at least have a chance if it weren't for you ruining him on me as well.  When your mother killed herself he called me a murderer and said he wouldn't speak to me until I released you. No one has the right to come between a man and his son!"

He set the tray down beside her and thrust the bread into her hands.  She couldn't help it. Her instincts gripped her and she tore into the loaf with her teeth even as she continued to cry and spit up blood from the kick.  He looked at her like she was an animal, and she felt like one. He squatted down beside her and almost purred as he said, "Enjoy your last meal. You will meet the guillotine in the morning. Of course... It doesn't have to happen that way.  You don't have to be drug out into the streets as you are and subject poor Marcus to watching your head separate from your shoulders."

She stopped eating and stared at him. He looked back into her wide silver eyes like he was looking at an insect and continued, "The milk is fresh, but poisoned.  Eat your fill, drink it, and lay down.  You'll just... Go to sleep forever."

With that he left.  Her eyes fixed on the glass of milk and something in her snapped.  Her ability to reason shut down.  She threw the glass against the wall and the remaining bread out through the bars on the window.  She screamed out her fury at the night until her voice was harsh, and then she looked longingly out the window after the bread she'd tossed away.  As she considered the coming day and her fate, she wept for the lost poison as well. 

[*UQT]

I'm a disgrace... I'm the shame of this family.  I tore a man's face, and I have ruined all my father's lofty aspirations.  I have killed my mother with guilt, and involved my brother in robbery and escape.  My whole life is a lie, thin and crumbling under my feet.  How much else is a lie?

She looked at the blue stone.  The symbol of Olaundran honor.  It almost looked like it was glowing. 

Everything is a gods be damned lie... Honor, family, love... All the finishing, all the lessons, and every time my "father" held me... Few times that they were.  All the stories he told me.  Bloody lies. 

Her hand reached out unbidden toward it.

If I am the symbol of Olaundran shame, and you are the symbol of Olaundran honor. It only makes sense for me to take you. 

Her hand hesitated over it, it was supposed to kill people after all.

It's all a lie.

She snatched it up and shoved it into her breast bindings as the rogue finished filling his sacks.

"Most profitable," He chuckled, "This business of savin' princesses.  Come on then."

And they ran off into the night.

[*UQT]

Her unused legs shook beneath her, and her feet were raw and bloody.  She'd not been given any shoes in her confinement so the ground was digging harshly at her feet.  It was dark and she could barely see him, much less track which way they were going.  They were moving along the coastline, but she could not have told you if it was toward Selgaunt, or away from it.    The rogue gave and exasperated look behind him at her as she failed miserably to keep the pace he wanted from her.  He gave a dissatisfied grunt and finally spoke, "I know of a cave on the cliffs, not far."

They arrived and climbed down a slim rocky ledge to a cave opening that was barely large enough to accommodate them squeezing in one at a time.  From there it opened into a room about twelve paces by twelve paces.  He pulled out a cube of wood shavings embedded in wax and struck his knife against a stone to light it. He then sat back and looked at her appraisingly. 

"It'll burn for about an hour," He explained, "Can't risk a proper fire, so I suggest you bed down before the fire is gone and the cold sets in... Unless you'd like me to keep you warm?"

He gave a half smile.  She only blushed and looked back at him.  She was 22, only once forcibly kissed, and she would have been lying if she said her long-neglected hormones were not wreaking all kinds of havoc on her and trying to impair her judgement. He was tall, broad, and beautiful.  His laughter was light on the air, his dark eyes were paralyzing, and his smile should have been outlawed.  She was sure he could impregnate a woman with it. 

He seemed almost to sense the rush of heat in her veins and he moved over beside her, "I can tell, even with the cell dirt on ya, that you are a pretty little thing... How long you been alone, princess?  I could make all that heartache go away in a night if you let me."

He was so close she could feel the whisper of his breath across her lips.  Gods if she didn't need to feel good for once in her miserable existence, but some shred of the sense of honor and the right way to do things still held her.  She blushed and as he moved his lips down to meet hers she stopped him with a word.

"No."

He smiled, "Well shit... Must be losing my charm.  Have it your way, princess."

He moved away from her, laid down, and was asleep in moments.  She sat there and shivered from the strain of her hormones against her morality.  The heat of her blood was suddenly at direct opposition to the ambient temperature.  It took several moments for her to clam herself and lay down.  Weary from more exercise than she had in years and a painfully empty stomach, it didn't take long for sleep to take her. 

[*UQT]

Morning light streamed in too early. She opened her eyes, blinking as she adjusted to the bright ray that invaded the cave's darkness. She looked across to where he had laid down.  He wasn't there.  She sat up and looked around the cave. He wasn't there.  She crawled out onto the cliffside... He wasn't there. 

She went back into the cave and found a pelt where he had been sleeping with a note.

Sorry, princess. You're too slow without any reasonable pay out.  This will keep you warm until they find you.

She held it numbly, and then wrapped the pelt over her shoulders.  She stepped out unto the cliff.  It was a beautiful scene.  There was a waterfall to her right and the sea, crashing a fair distance below.  A good distance.  An unsurvivable distance. 


She had no idea where to go.  It had been dark, and every step was painful.  If she headed in the wrong direction she would go toward Raphael Olaundran instead of away from him. If she stayed, he'd certainly find her.  She looked down at the waves.  She could take just one step, and it would all be over.  

. . . The letter danced on the wind as it fell to a watery grave.  As for Wioletta, she had chosen a direction away from the cliffs and put one foot in front of the other.  For days she traveled and took a chance sampling wild plants that looked edible.  One cost her a day by the river vomiting violently for a good 8 candlemarks.  She found some robin's nests.  That gave her a bit of protein, but she was no ranger.  She was raised to be a lady, and the grim fact set in that she would not last much longer. 

They she smelled it.  In truth it only had to be barely edible at this point, but the scent of thick lamb stew filled her nose and set her drooling.  She wiped at her chin and jaw, sucking in and following the scent.  She overlooked a small port city with a dusty old tavern that was teasing her with that savory scent. 

She skirted along the edge, trying to stay hidden.  There was no way she could go in there the way she looked, and she had not money to pay for a meal.  She didn't see any pig pens though, and that meant there would be scraps. In the back she found a foul-smelling compost bin.  The stuff on the top was from this morning and might still be edible.  She picked through it for what she thought might not instantly kill her. 

"Ain't y'a a wretched sight," A large, hard-looking women bellowed down at her, "Pickin' at that'll make y'ill, lass."

Wioletta stumbled back, and her legs could not give any more.  They collapsed beneath her, and Wioletta looked up at the round, elderly woman pitifully.

"Please, don't," She whimpered quietly, "Please don't turn me in. It's garbage. You threw it out."

There was a pregnant pause, "Can y'stand, girl?"

Wioletta shook with fear and nodded, "I... I think I can."

"Then git yer'self t'gether an git in ere, yeah?" The old woman commanded, "Y'need an actual meal t'put meat on yer hips. Ain't no man likes em that scrawny. N'charge. C'mon now."

Wioletta looked after the woman disbelieving.  She was sure it was a trick, but what choices did she have now?  She couldn't last much longer.  She was going to end up dead and forgotten in a ditch.  She crawled to her feet and made her way into the back of the tavern.

"Ain't n'body ere this time 'o day," The old woman prattled on, serving up a bowl of stew and dropping a large roll into it, "Name's Marie Wiley.  Ya can call me... Ms. Wiley, and like it.  Yer safe from whatever yer runnin' from ere."

Marie looked at Wioletta, and put the bowl on a small wooden table with a spoon. The elder woman pointed, "Eat, yer a fright.  Whatere it is, looks like it almost got ye, yeah?"

Wioletta did not need any more invitation.  She was on it, gobbling and slurping like an animal.  Marie hissed, "Woah now girl, y'll hurt y'self."

Wioletta ate until the pain hit, and moaning tried to stuff in more.  Marie lurched forward and moved the bowl away.

"Y'can eat y'self t'death," Marie cautioned, "Iffn' y'been starved t'long. That's 'nuff fer now.  Let's git y'cleaned up an have a look at them feet what's trackin' blood thruh m'inn."

Wioletta did not have it in her to argue.  She let herself be taken upstairs and stripped. Marie looked hard at each individual rib on the young girl's frame, then the scars, and hissed again, "Shit lass, y'been thruh it aven't ya."

She drew a bath for Wioletta, tossing in some kind of scented salts.  When Wioletta was settled into the warm water, Marie set to cleaning and working the matts out of Wioletta's hair.  She cursed and cut a few of the tougher matts out, "Good thin yer hair is s'thick.  We style it righ'it'll cover up the bald spots. Sorry I canne git em all out, lass."

"Cut it all off," Wioletta muttered, "Cut it off and burn it."

". . . Pardon?" Marie asked.

"It's why he doesn't love me," Wioletta whimpered, "It's how he knows I'm a bastard... It's ugly and horrible and dark! Cut it all off!"

Wioletta pulled her knees in tight and wept into them.  Marie was quiet for a while and then said, "Am I t'understand yer old man did this t'ya?"

The pitiable cries of emotional agony were answer enough.  Marie put her arms around the fragile flower and said, "Sounds like yer an orphan then. Ain't that th'way of it? Us that wants kids canne ave em. Those that can don' want em. That's a'right, little one. Y'don' need a shitbag like that.  Y'can stay ere with ol, Marie as long as y'like."

And the next couple of years passed almost peacefully by Wioletta's very poor standards.

[*UQT]

Wioletta singing (link goes to "She Used to be Mine" by Sara Bareilles)

She sang to the drunkards.  Tips improved with pretty girls who sang and danced.  Not a one of them was a bard, but these men didn't care.  Wioletta was better than most from her finishing lessons. These men didn't notice.  They were busy being reminded of women they left behind or hoping that one of these girls was desperate enough to take them upstairs.  Nightly she was promised a real home, with her own kitchen to tend the dozen or so children she was sure to give a fellow with those wonderful hips. Nightly she gave someone or another a goodnight kiss. 

One layer of sealant.  One layer of the knockout balm.  If a man pressed his luck and forced a kiss, he'd collapse in a heap and be carted off to a room.  He'd be told in the morning how his drunkenness had caused him to pass out and be charged for the room he took up for the night.  Marie kept her girls safe that way, and lightened the purse of many a man that could not take no for an answer. 

There were a lot of them.  Marie ran the place, but Beau Morgan owned it.  He fancied turning it into a brothel.  That was where the money really was.  He set out every night to send in the loneliest, pushiest men he could find. It was a daily exercise for Wioletta not to hate every man on Toril.

"Yeah, so he was braggin' about saving some girl in a tower," Wioletta overheard.

"Excuse me sirs," She interupted.

She described the rogue, and they confirmed it was him.  She asked where they'd seen him and they gave her the city Archenbridge.  She thanked them and finished out the night.  In the dark with her thoughts she remembered the capable man who had managed to help her escape, as worthless and skill-less as she was at the time.  For whatever reason, instead of being angry with how he left her, she was lightly thrilled that he still spoke of her. 

She opened her trunk with most of the gold she'd earned in the past years still inside it and pulled out a backpack.  She had a few spare dresses, but other than that she had lived spare to keep from spending the wage Marie gave her.  Marie wanted to buy the bar, and Wioletta wanted to help her do that.  She'd kept every tip, every wage, and bought only what she absolutely needed. 

She locked the trunk, and left a note folded around the key. She slid it under Marie's door.  She would never see the Tavern or Marie again. 

At the age of 24 she arrived in Archenbridge.

[*UQT]

She was no tracker.  She kept her hood up to obscure her face as much as possible and just milled about town.  She rotated through the bars, hoping to happen across him, and that went on for weeks.  She ate just enough to keep going and slept in the woods out of town to stretch what little gold she'd taken with her.  It's all she could think to do. 

Finally, Tymora smiled upon her.  He came into the bar where she sat in a corner.  He couldn't recognize her, hidden as she was, but she knew that smile.  She knew it from a distance.  Her heart began to race as he sat just a few tables over.  She was tired.  She was tired of being at everyone's mercy.  She wanted to be like him, assured and confident, capable and strong.  She shoved down the pain of jealous as he successfully enticed a young lass to his table.  He had her eating out of his hands in no time and soon they were heading upstairs.  Marie waited a moment, and then followed.  

She knew what she'd be walking in on.  She didn't care.  Lucky for her, he'd not locked the door.  She took a breath and barreled in. 

He was on his feet, sword draw and ready faster than she could track.  The half-dressed, shreiking lass pulled up the covers to hide her shame.  Wioletta stepped in, closed the door behind her, and pulled back her hood. His eyes went all the way down to the floor and all the way back up her. 



"Hello," He said as his smile broadened,"What's this then? You bring me a friend?  Good gods, and such a rare beauty."

The girl on the bed her head shook her head vigorously.  He looked back over at Wioletta and finally settled on her silver eyes.  He sucked in a staggered breath, "Holy hells... Princess?"

"I am no princess," She corrected, "No lady. I'm a bastard, and I have been denied an education in anything useful to the common life I find myself.  I have, however, gotten faster.  I learn quickly, and I am sure I can be useful if you will teach me."

He lowered his weapon and looked her over, "So you aren't here keen on some sort of revenge?"

"No," She stated simply, "I just want you to teach me how to be like you.  I grow weary of this life of dependence."

"Well," He grinned, "Wanna join us then."

He thumbed to the bed, where the poor girl could not have been any redder.  Wioletta smirked and said, "Sorry, you'll still not get me so... cheaply."

It was a low blow, and she watched the girl flinch.  Still, the woman did not leave that bed.  He laughed, "Fair enough, princess... Fair enough."

"I'll be at the bar," she reached into her backpack and pulled out an old, weathered pelt. 

She dropped it on the floor in front of him and leveled her eyes to his as she said, "Think you know what you can do with this."

He half-smiled in that way that made her knees weak.  She winked and left the room.  An hour later the woman walked out and straight out of the bar looking ashamed and flustered.  She clutched the pelt in her hands and disappeared onto the streets.  He strode down happily tucking his shirt.  Another privilege of manhood.  No man ever walked away from the sating of adult needs with his head down.  She blushed in spite of herself.  It was still a need that nagged at her and remained unexperienced.  It was also the one thing in her entire miserable life she had retained control over.  Once she gave up that control she knew she would never get it back.

He slid into a seat next to her, lowering his voice, and said, "Lemme see those hands, girl."

Wioletta let him have them and he nodded, "Been abusing them wiping down bar tables and doing dished, haven't you?  Still, these slender fingers, and your intelligence.  I bet you could pick apart traps and locks with the best of them."

He nodded, "Alright then. First, you stand out too much. We'll need to have you fitted in a number of outfits so you can move about in the crowd.  Keep your cowl up, always.  Those glittering silver eyes are a dead giveaway you aren't just some common girl.  An we'll need a name that don't say "spoiled noble girl" for you"

"Marie," She said quickly, "Call me Marie."

And so he took her to his hideout, to meet his crew. 

[*UQT]

She took to it as well as Lorenzo, her handsome rogue, had thought.  Soon she seemed well-respected in their misfit band of thieves.  They had successful missions into ruins, caves, orc encampments, and regularly targeted the worse scum of the Sembian merchant class to make their heavy pockets lighter.



Meanwhile the bounty for Wioletta Olaundran grew the reputation of Marie "The Goodnight Kiss" also grew.  A few times they had run-ins with bounty hunters, but the important part to her was that her little family never seemed to turn on her.  Except that woman… Eliza.

Eliza wanted to bed Lorenzo in the worst way, but about a year into having Marie around, he’d begun to pursue Marie regularly.  There was no room for Eliza to ruin his chase.  For Marie’s part, as much as she wanted him, she never let him do more than put his arms around her. 

Eliza regularly reddened with jealously and murmured about the entire band being able to retire if they just turned Marie in.  Lorenzo always turned Eliza down flat, saying that thieves had a code.  Still Marie wondered if the whole team wasn’t one bad day away from true danger from the woman Lorenzo scorned.

Lorenzo placed his arms around Marie from behind and whispered in her ear, “How many years am I going to have to chase you, my princess?  You said you weren’t cheap, but just what does a man in love have to do?”

Every inch of her skin came alive and hummed with electricity.  She swallowed over the lump in her throat and took a breath before speaking, “We ain’t got n’life fer love an what comes wit'it, an y’know it. Don’ be daft.”

She had started speaking that way when the rumors of a too well-spoken thief circulated among the bounty hunters.  They didn't need the bounty hunters putting together that Marie and Wioletta were one in the same.  Lorenzo hummed lowly and moved his lips down to her neck.  His breath was hot and she was definitely bothered by it.  He moved his lips up to her ear again, “So what your saying is, we need to make a score big enough to retire.”

Every gear in her head ground to a halt.  His hands moved to her sides and then down to holding the bones of her hips and she all but lost the ability to stand.  She gripped the counter in front of her and managed to speak finally, “What r’you sayin’?”

“I’m saying,” He pressed his back against hers, “I love you, Marie, and I want you so bad I can’t see straight when you’re around.  If that’s what it takes to make you my woman.  Let’s do it.  Let’s go for a big score, and you and me buy some run down little farm.  We can retire to dig up potatoes, and I can finally hear the sweet noise of my name on your howling lips every night.”

The electricity of it shot up and down her spine.  She closed her eyes and whimpered, “Gods… I want that so badly… Do y’think we can do it?”

“You and me?” Lorenzo purred, “We can do anything.”

[*UQT]

For the past year it had been “one more big score”.  Lorenzo was getting more impatient with his touching and verbal advances.  The simple act of having admitted a year back that she wanted to be with him had been enough to embolden him. 

They had a planned hit on a sprawling Sembian estate.  This family was supposed to be some real villainous scum with most of the local farmers indentured to them.  The intel said that the family was away in Selgaunt attempting to garner a favorable match for the eldest son.  Each member of their group had two enchanted bags.  The volume that one bag could hold in gold was enough to retire twice over.  She told herself that this was it, if he didn’t disband with her and retire then he never would.  She was 27 as she worked the heavy combination lock to the family vault.

The job had already been more complicated than they expected; More guards, more people, young children even.  They all seemed awfully loyal for forced help.  Marie started asking questions, too many questions.  Soon Lorenzo was all but sneered at her every time she opened her mouth, so she shut it, and did her work.

They got into the vault and started shoveling the gold into their bags.  They didn’t get far before the sound of armored footsteps were heard coming toward them.  Marie growled, “Shit! There must have been a silent alarm spell on the vault!”

They scrambled, trying to lose the swarm of guards on their heels.  They didn’t have a choice but to fight some of them and Marie tried to reason with them.  It would prove to be her critical mistake. 

“Just let us go!” Marie yelled at the small cluster, “Those bastard nobles stole most o’ it anyway en’taxin’ you lot near t’death!”

“The Asen family is not like that!” One guard spat, “They paid all my sister’s expenses when she took ill and asked for nothing! I’ll guard them with my life!”

“You’re gonna regret that vow, son,” Lorenzo said as he sprang forward and the battle was engaged.

Marie didn’t join the fight, she watched, trying to process what had been said.  Lorenzo stood over the young man’s corpse and spat.  Marie flinched and saw him with entirely new eyes.  He then turned and stalked over to her.  She backed against the wall as she croaked out, “You said this was an evil family.  Like mine… You said-“
“Oh, shy violet,” He growled, “After all you’ve been through your still damned useless.  A *** princess in a gods-be-damned tower.  I’m so *** sick of telling you what you need to feel good about what we’re doing. Morals are expensive, princess, and you ain’t paid up for them.”

He pinned her against the wall before she could think to move.  She was too stunned.  Her whole world was falling apart again around her.  He kissed her hard and lifted one of her legs up over his hip.  A sharp slice of pain bit into the back of the lifted leg and a thick gush of warm red ran forth from the gash left there.  She toppled to the floor, trying to hold the wound closed.

“I’d like to collect the bounty on you,” He added, glaring down at her as Eliza sauntered up and cuddled into his side, “It might make all that swill I had to say to you to keep you happy in front of my Eliza worth it, but I’d also like not to swing from a noose.  I’m sure the guards will be happy catching the goodnight kiss.”

They left her like that and Wioletta might have cried.  She might have curled up into a ball and waited for the end, but Wioletta was dead inside her.  She tore a strip of cloth, grabbed a small utility knife and wrapped the hilt in the bandage.  With a sharp twist she clamped down her make-shift tunicate on her upper thigh.  She made for the shadows and tried to find her way out. 

She heard the guards coming and ducked into a room.  It looked to be a lady’s room, so she made for the wardrobe and pulled on a dress.  She let her hair down and hid her gear in the closet.  She tossed herself down on the floor and undid the tunicate just as the guards barreled in.

“oh thank the gods!” She whimpered, “You just missed them! They killed my guards and they were going to kill me but they heard you coming!”

The captain motioned his squad on and knelt handing Marie a potion to close her wound.  He helped her to her feet, “So sorry, My Lady. I just got back today.  I didn’t know the Asen family had a visitor miss?”

“Wioletta Olaundran,” She offered without flinching, “My father will be most cross that this happened to me while visiting.  I think I had better gather my things and leave.  I’ll stay in the local inn until he can collect me. Will you escort me out, good sir?”

“Olaundran?” He went pale, “Oh, of course! Anything for house Olaundran.  We would not dare upset Lord Raphael.”

At first she thought she was sunk.  He’d known enough to recognize her house name, but luckily did not care enough about the affairs of the nobility to know she was wanted.  He all but carried her out of the place after letting her pack her things alone in the room which allowed her to hide her gear in few neatly folded dresses.  Not one other guard questioned the escort of clearly high-bred lady out of the frantic premises.

He walked her all the way to the inn and then made his own unfortunate mistake in saying, “Please let me stand guard and send word for more guards to come and keep you safe until your father can collect you.”

“Oh please do!” She smiled and watched him pay a runner to take word to the estate.  He accompanied her to her room where she sat and put on the only makeup she ever wore.  One sealant… One layer of knockout balm.  She closed the door and stood uncomfortably close to him.

“If you hadn’t come when you did,” She purred and pressed against him, “I don’t know what I would have done.”

She leaned into him and he put his fingers up between them. He smiled gently and said, “I am flattered M’lady, but I am also married, and you just suffered a great ordeal.”

She went to the bundle and slipped out a kukri while he prattled on about honor and his lovely wife.  She even heard a bit about his two children before she brought the handle of the kukri viscously into the base of his skull and knocked him out.  She laughed a bit manically.  It was the first time she’d tried to rely on men being scum and actually found a good one.  Damn her luck.

She put on her gear, flipped up her cowl and walked right past the small cluster of guards coming in the opposite direction without so much as a second look.

[*UQT]

Wasn’t long after that the body of a handsome rogue was found, and a large sum of gold found its way into a barrel.  That barrel went to a tavern, and into the hands of Marie’s name sake with a note that read, “This should be enough for you to finally buy that place.  Keep them safe.  Don’t let anyone touch them ever again.”

For the nearly the next four years Marie used her lockpicking skills only on missions with adventurers into forgotten caves, and ruins.  She never stayed long enough to make friends and moved on even quicker if someone made eyes at her.  She left a handful of men knocked out in odd situations, maintaining her moniker of the goodnight kiss.  She left more than one bounty hunter that way.

She spent time on the sword coast, a fair amount in Beregost and Nashkel.  She tried to shake her past, but it kept finding her.  At one point she had no choice but to give up all the gold she had gathered so far to pay off a particularly skilled hunter.  Between giving all her gold to the original Marie and then to a bounty hunter so she could keep breathing, she was penniless yet again.  She returned to Sembia.  This time, she had one mission.

Kill Raphael Olaundran. 

She was never going to know peace until he was gone.  Her bounty kept getting bigger, and she wasn’t going to be able to keep paying it.  He was in Selgaunt and could not have his full complement of gaurds with him within the city as he had no permanent estate there.  He’d be at the multi-story Green Gaunlet Inn, right along the water.



She slipped a few gold to a clerk and found he’d rented an entire floor.  The room service had been going to two rooms, so she’d have to guess.  She slipped into the back quarters for the help and stole the outfit of a custodian.  She wheeled a cleaning cart with her gear up to the floor he was on and did her best to obscure her face behind a white bonnet.  Lucky for her, no one ever looked at the help.

She walked up and knocked on the first door.  A deep male voice beckoning her in.  She made herself ready to face him and walked in.  His back was turned to her, so she closed and quietly locked the door.  She drew her kukris and was almost on him when her turned and silver eyes met silver eyes… Her mother’s eyes, and her kukris dropped to the floor.

“Wi-Wioletta?” The young, golden haired man asked.

“Marcus?” She managed to get out as her eyes stung with tears.

He was to her in an instant, scooping her up into his arms and twirling her around before letting her feet find the ground again.  He was almost 18 now, and a young man in his own right.  She fussed over him, like a mother bird, inspecting a lost chick.  Through tears of joy she let her adopted accent drop and said, “Let me look at you.  Damn, you got big.  Look at these shoulders, are you betrothed yet?”

“Not yet,” Marcus smiled ear to ear as he suffered his sister’s mothering, “Dad is parading me about regularly to perfectly unscrupulous women.  Fortunately you remain a blight on our family name.”

He laughed an gathered her up again, squeezing her against chest.  Then he remembered the blades and set her down.  Quietly he asked, “You came here to kill him… Didn’t you?”

She nodded slowly and retrieved her blades.  There was a long, still silence before Marcus said, “The bounties… I always knew either he would finally get you, or you would be back to see that he didn’t.”

He went to an end table and pulled out a small quartz stone on a necklace as he explained, “It’s been awful since you and mom left.  I promised myself if I ever saw you again I would use the chance to give you this.” 

He put the necklace around her neck and pulled its twin out of his shirt.  He smiled softly as they both warmly glowed.  He touched her crystal and said, “It works kind of like a sending amulet, except that it is bound to its pair and only transmits feelings.  To feel that you were out there somewhere would have been a great comfort.  It never needs charging.  Just, think of me occasionally to let me know you are okay.  Because if you succeed tonight, you are going to have to leave Sembia for good.  The Hulron might not maintain the kind of bounty our father has on you, but it will be enough to make life uncomfortable for you here. Especially if you succeed in his favorite port city.”

She nodded and said, “I should go… I don’t want to… But I should go.”

“Good luck, Wioletta,” He said and kissed her forehead, “If your fire needs any fueling, I am pretty sure mom didn’t kill herself.”

The two exchanged meaningful glances. Marie nodded, stowed her blade and collected her kart.  She looked upon his angelic face one last time and moved on, down the hallway.  She knocked on the second chamber door.

“About time,” His voice barked on the other side, “Come turn down these sheets! What am I paying for?”

She shuffled into the room with her eyes down and went to strip the bed after quietly locking the door. Then she noticed he wasn’t barking commands and looked over at him.  He was watching her, stunned.  Then shock gave way to hate as he growled, “Gods damn you for having her face. Did you really think you’d get within 50 paces of me and I wouldn’t recognize the face of the only person I ever loved?”

She wasn’t given time to react. He howled, “GUARDS! GAURDS!”

He drew his sword and they began to fight as the guards beat upon the heavy wooden door.  She saw the frame giving and new she wasn’t going to win this fight.  She was barely managing her father’s trained blade.  If the guards made it in, she was finished.  She sneered at him as she blocked with her kukris, “This isn’t over.  As long as you hunt me, I will hunt you.”

She jumped out the window, shattering the glass and cutting herself in many places.  She caught the decorative ledge, swung down to the one beneath it and made her final descent onto the streets.  Raphael screamed out the window, “ASSASSIN! Someone stop her!”

The city guard was quick on her heels, she made it to the edge of the outer dock, stripping the servant dress off her and dove into the river Arkhen.  She swam for the beach on the other side hoping that the fact that the guards would have to double back to the bridge would buy her time.  Then she heard the hounds.  The whole city of Selgaunt had gone on alert.  A commoner had tried to kill a member of the merchant nobility and they did not stand for that sort of thing in Sembia. She found ground along the cliff side and ran.  She heard the dogs getting closer and howling to their masters. 

Gods… This was it.  How was she going to escape this one? One girl against the entire city of Selgaunt.  She found a cave and took a chance ducking into it and descending into it's depths. 

[*UQT]

It was impossibly dark, and the hounds were nearly on her.  The only light she had at this point was the looming torches of the men that would drag her off to her death.  Maybe that’s why she didn't double check every foothold.  The desire to survive only said to run, and so she scrambled, tripped, got up, and tripped again.  Then she took a step that never met the ground.

“She’s fallen into the chasm!” She heard them yell, “She’s a dead woman for sure.”

I don’t want to die…

Please…

Not like this…

She fell and fell, until the dim light that was their torches was not even a pinprick.  The fall was getting faster and faster, she began to get dizzy and then the world went black.

She could not have told you how long she was out.  She woke up on a bench with her arm over her eyes.  It was the way she slept when she expected to wake up with a hangover to shut out the sunlight.  She looked around and shot up to sitting, pulling her cowl up. The hells was she?

There was something like a golem nearby, but his parts floated in the air.  Purple light attached his appendages.  Then a thing she could only describe as a walking stack of boxes ambled by and waved at her.  Her armor felt heavy on her.  It should have been enchanted mithril, but when she pulled back her shirt, she found only heavy, dull iron.  The enchantments seemed to have been stripped from her kukris as well.

Of course… They’d cost a bloody fortune, and she was apparently meant to be destitute in this life.  She cursed under her breath.  No one seemed to notice her at least.  Women laying passed out on benches must be a semi-regular occurrence.  She got up and stretched toward the sky.  Then she shuffled toward what looked like an open air bar.

Shen moved to the fire present there and popped her knuckles.  A man was laying out on the only covered bench there.  Talking to him, she learned his name was Tavlin.  He was in and interesting predicament.  Much like Sembia, getting into trouble and not being able to buy your way out was a thing that had dire consequences.  

Later a cat woman, Maharaja, would join them and give her a bit of advice about the place.  Lance, Sharon, James, and some woman named Lasca who seemed a bit miffed that she and Marie were dressed near identical.  Marie, being Marie, couldn’t help but prod her a bit.  It was just clothes after all, and she truthfully didn’t care.  She was, however, cruelly amused by how it seemed to tick her off.

The night wore on and she had to figure this place out if she was going to get back.  She needed to get back too.  The quartz amulet didn’t seem to glow here, no matter how hard she thought of Marcus.  She wasn’t ready to lose him again so soon.  She was pointed towards the sewers as a place "clueless" went to sharpen their skills, and sharpen them she did.