Score! Way to go, Alex! Now grab them and get out of here before he changes his mind, or someone recognises you...
Alexandra smiled sweetly and took the coins off of the table, clutching them to her chest and using her forearms to push up her breasts, just to see whether Narshal was as cold and reserved as he really seemed. "Thank you, sir," she said enthusiastically, blinking her eyes repeatedly and trying to capture his attention, but it didn't seem to be working. Or, at least, if Narshal was taking in the view, then he wasn't being very obvious about it. Alexandra was unable to stop herself pouting at the perceived lack of interest, but she quickly caught herself, bowing her head into another curtsey and then scurrying out of The Limping Weasel and back onto the streets of Islesbury.
So far, Alexandra had avoided coming across anyone that she had known here before she was incarcerated. Given the kinds of characters that she had associated with, and their lines of work, it was a fair assumption that at least half of them were either dead or locked up too, but she still wanted to lay low. The brown cloak would help her to hide her face, but for now, her malnourished appearance, pale skin, burlap sack and raggedy clothing gave her the look of a beggar, so most people in the streets just avoided making eye contact with her. Right now, that was fine, but she knew that once she had gotten cleaned up and dressed, she would be turning a lot more heads in the right direction.
She had three places left to visit. From a practical point of view, the first thing that she needed to do was to get a weapon. Not only would it be useful, but, after convincing Narshal that she was a rather clueless, naive girl, she now needed to work hard to make sure that he didn't think she was entirely useless. He owned her and that meant that he could return her to the prison and take another convict instead, so this was her only chance at some kind of freedom. To be fair, if she was allowed to roam the city freely in between doing whatever jobs Narshal had lined up, it might not be so bad. Alexandra wasn't much of a fighter, really, she didn't really know how to swing a sword or an axe, but she knew which parts of the human body were most vital and she knew how to slide a dagger between two rib bones before anyone would ever realise what had happened.
That might prove to ruin the illusion she had crafted for Narshal. After all, what sort of sweet little girl is that good at killing people? No, she would need something else, something that seemed more natural. She would buy a dagger, of course, and keep it concealed, but, to the rest of the party, she would be an archer of no particular distinction. That would be easy, too, because it required no deceit; Alexandra knew how to hit a target with a bow, but it required her to concentrate if she wanted to really hit the target.
Of course, dressed in a prisoner's garb, she might struggle to buy a weapon in Islesbury. Even here, in the docks, people were wary of criminals, and some merchants would refuse to deal with them. Generally, those were the better merchants, the ones that sold higher quality weapons and occasionally supplied a local lord, or even the local guards. If she wanted to get her hands on a decent blade, she would need to look like someone that wasn't liable to stick it into the first person that crossed her path.
And that suited Alexandra just fine, because she wasn't concerned about the practicalities of buying a weapon right now. All she was concerned about was getting out of these rags and taking a long hot soak in a scented bath. As she stared along the road towards The Royal Cedar Baths, Alexandra had to take a deep breath in preparation; she knew that the women that worked in these places would immediately shoo her.
This isn't the time or place for a sob story, so I'll need a different approach. I think it's time to go for something a little bit crazy... Ah, yes. This should help!
Alexandra knelt down and picked up a curved piece of blue glass, probably from a bottle or something similar. She spat on it, disgusting herself at the vulgarity of the act, before rubbing it on her rags just enough to restore some shine to it. She then ripped off a piece of cloth from the bottom of her dress and plaited it, forcing the glass into the centre. She smirked and placed it carefully inside the top of her sack before heading for the bath house's entrance.
Pushing the door open, Alex stepped into the inn's ornate entrance room. Without missing a beat, she strolled along the corridor, towards the desk at the far end. She walked with her nose held high and her walk full of purpose and dignity, carrying herself with an air that meant that the jobsworths on guard duty at the door didn't bother her. The young blonde woman on the desk, however, didn't give her such a free pass. Fortunately, the reception room was at the end of the corridor, which meant that she would have to make a considerable ruckus to draw the guards' attention to herself.
"Ugh." She sneered at the raven-haired criminal and shook her head, "Look, I'm fed up of telling you and your disgusting homeless friends this. Just because we have empty rooms, it doesn't mean that you can stay in them for free. This isn't a monastery and I am not the fri-urk!"
Alexandra reached across the desk and grabbed the woman's gold locket, yanking it harshly and bringing the blonde face-to-face with her. She cleared her throat, intentionally coughing into the girl's face and then put on an affected Slavic accent. "I am not who you think I am. If you knew who I was then you would not be speaking to me like this, and if my father knew what you had said then you would find yourself speaking to anyone ever again." She loosened her grip, allowing the woman to breathe again before continuing in a stern voice, "I am Lady Amelia Bonhoeffer, of the Fallhurst Bonhoeffers. My father is Lord Edwin Bonhoeffer, although you may know him better was Edwin the Kind." Something about the friendly epithet made the blonde girl relax slightly and she even smiled. Alexandra responded with a cruel smile of her own and tightened her grip on the locket once more, digging her filthy nails into the girl's cream-coloured skin. "I can only assume that you're not from Fallhurst, or you would understand that the people there have a love of ironic nicknames..."
The blonde girl began clawing at her throat, with her eyes bulging and her skin reddening. Alex let go, allowing her to gasp, whilst turning her head to see that the guards by the doors weren't even looking in their direction. No doubt these men were too weak or cowardly to be proper mercenaries, but just about strong enough to convince a bath house that they would be up to the task. "As you know nothing of my home, or of my father, I assume you know nothing of me, either. I am the only child of Lord Bonhoeffer and, many months ago, I was beset upon by robbers and bandits, who kidnapped me and brought me to this place. Whilst here, in Islesbury, the idiots were caught by the local guard, who mistook me for one of their rank, imprisoning me with them. I wrote to my father and he sent word back, telling your local lords exactly what he thought of them. I was promptly released, and given this." Alex opened up her sack and took out the blue glass, woven into tattered rags. Flashing it so that it glistened in the light for a moment, before stuffing it back into her sack. "It is the mark of my family, and it has been accepted by your lords as proof of who I am. Right now, my father's best men ride to Islesbury to escort me home, but I will bathe before then, so that I may look the part of a noble lord's daughter."
Alex stepped back and placed one hand on her hip, "So, girl, who are you to deny me?"
"I, well, um," she stammered, her breathing still a little laboured. "If your father is a wealthy lord then I am sure he was sent you coin for these things. I am sure that, after such a misunderstanding, the lords themselves would have donated their gold to your cause, that your father might reimburse them later..."
Damn it. I guess she isn't going to go down easily.
Opening the sack, Alexandra took ten gold coins from her purse and firmly slammed them down on the counter. "I have money to pay, as you can see, but after the way that you treated me, I will not be paying you today. If you wish to refuse, please know that I will be telling me father and he will be very interested to know more about this little incident." Alex flashed her best wicked grin, "I'm sure I don't need to tell you just how my father earned his title as Edwin 'the Kind', do I?"
"N-no," replied the woman as she tenderly rubbed at the red marks on her delicate neck. "It would be our pleasure to accommodate you here today, Lady Amelia. I will inform one of our ladies in waiting to draw the bath water whilst you change. P-please, follow me." It was only when the woman stood up that Alex realised just how short she was. Alexandra was a bit on the short side, but this woman was a good two or three inches shorter still. It was no surprise that she had given in to the threats so easily.
---
The best part of an hour later, Lady Amelia Bonhoeffer emerged from The Royal Cedar, smelling of roses and lavender, whilst also dressed in her new clothes, having been very glad to leave her sandals and tattered rags behind. The baths had even provided her with a shoulder pouch to hold her spare undergarments, purse, and Bonhoeffer family mark. She had considered ditching the "mark" now, but thought that it may prove useful again at some stage.
Alexandra then quickly found herself an armourer. It wasn't a shop that she was familiar with and it must have opened whilst she was serving time, but it stocked all manner of weapons and the quality of them was superb. She found a small steel knife with a curved tip and ivory handle. It was expensive, but she was convinced that it was worth every coin. After all, this would be Alexandra's weapon of choice for situations when her own life was on the line, so it needed to be up to the task. She also picked up a cheap oak bow, and a quiver full of arrows. With a bit of flirting, playing upon the wandering eyes of the middle-aged shop owner, she was able to blag herself a second quiver for free, all of which left her with about thirty pieces of gold.
After convincing Narshal to spare some extra coin, Alex had decided that she would be spending it in three places at most. The first was the bath house, where she had managed to avoid spending any coin whatsoever. The second was the armourer and, with thirty coins left, the final place was a building that had always fascinated Alexandra, even if she had never set foot in it before. As a liar, a thief and a general rogue, Alexandra could sneak into any number of buildings and often sneaked back out with more than she took in, but even the best thieves know that there are places where skill will not save you. The Ebony Belltower was one such place.
True to its name, The Ebony Belltower consisted of a large black column, atop which a silver bell sat to ring out the hour. More than this, though, its ground floor was home to a rare sight in any city, and especially rare in the docks. It was a magic shop. The kind of place typically run by a retired wizard, growing fat on mass-produced potions of temporary strength and the occasional sale of a magic trinket from his adventuring days. Items in these kinds of shops were rarely cheap, but it was difficult to find scrolls or potions elsewhere that were as effective, whilst the magical rings were almost impossible to find without going on an adventure of one's one. Naturally, too, these shops were well-defended, not just by their owners, but also by a variety of traps and runes, to ensure that all visitors to the store would pay the top price for their purchases. Magical shops, especially ones run by magi, just couldn't be robbed. Anyone that tried was caught and imprisoned if they were lucky, whilst the owners sometimes dealt with the more unfortunate thieves in their own way.
Alex could see enchanted rings and boots, along with arrows and swords, but she wasn't here for weapons or armour. She wasn't here for potions either, as, in her experience, they tended to be stored in fragile glass vials that broke too easily and weighed too much. No, Alex was here for a scroll. Whilst incarcerated, she had been given plenty of time to think, and she came to conclude that learning a little magic might go a long way. If she returned with a magic ring or, amusingly enough, an actual pair of magic boots, then it might draw too much attention to her. It might also draw the wrong kind of attention if another member of the group decided that they would be better served by a pair of hasted boots, whilst a scroll would crumble upon being mastered. Then the magic would be within the raven-haired girl, where no-one would be able to take it away from her.
The prices were steep, as she expected them to be. Even the single-use scrolls were costing a minimum of five gold pieces, so the thirty coins that she had left may not be enough to buy a scroll as potent as she had hoped. Ideally, Alex wanted a scroll of invisibility, but the permanent scroll would cost more than twice the amount of money she had left. The cheapest permanent scrolls were for research purposes, allowing the user to translate magical and non-magical texts without having to master the language in which it was written. These scrolls were still twenty coins a piece and, whilst Alex could see that they might have some worth, she couldn't justify spending that sort of money on something so minor. She would need to spend all of her remaining coins on this scroll to get something worthwhile, or she would be left with a glorified party trick in the form of a minor burst of coloured sparks, or a bright magical light.
All the scrolls were in trays and baskets on a table top, and Alex worked her way along them until she found a few that would cost thirty coins to purchase. She wasn't really looking for an attacking spell, but with so little available, she might have to settle. There were spells here that she could dismiss immediately, as their purposes were for protecting items and people against scrying, or to magically lock/unlock doors and items. Again, they were useful but also rather mundane and definitely not what Alex was after right now. As she continued to leaf through the scrolls, she found one that immediately appealed to her. So much so, that Alex even gave a little gasp as she pulled it from the basket and walked across to where the wizard, who didn't look that old, was writing out a new scroll.
He held his hand up to stop the girl from speaking and then continued to write for a further five minutes. Only when he had finished did he look up and take the scroll from her. "That will be thirty gold pieces," he said, without a hint of warmth or humour to his voice.
"I'll give you twenty," replied Alex. She couldn't steal here, but there was nothing stopping her from trying to get a discount the old-fashioned way. She leaned forwards onto the desk, propping herself up on her elbows and making the most of the low-cut blouse, with her cleavage at eye-level for the mage. "What do you say, big guy? Twenty bucks and a kiss?" She giggled coyly and shot a wink at the older man.
"Thirty gold pieces," repeated the mage. "My prices are non-negotiable, and your bosom is nothing so spectacular that I haven't seen better before. Compared to a succubus, you are as flat-chested as a child. Now then, you can either pay me thirty pieces for that scroll and be on your way, or you can be on your way anyway. The choice is yours and I'll be glad for whichever one you pick. Harlot."
Alexandra huffed indignantly and slammed the thirty coins on the table, before snatching the scroll from the wizard and stomping out of the shop. She was so filled with anger that she failed to hear his "Thank you, please come again," a phrase that would surely have only angered her further at this point. Once outside, she stuffed the scroll into her bag and began ranting to herself.
Who the hell does he think he is? I'll make him pay for that! I'll come back here when I'm a powerful sorceress and then we'll see what he makes of me! The bastard is going to suffer, and I'm going to enjoy making him suffer...
She was barely twenty feet from the belltower when it began to chime loudly. It had been about two hours since Alexandra last saw Narshal, and probably about three hours since he let his new purchases loose in Islesbury. There wasn't time to try learning her first spell now as the rest of the group was almost certainly going to be waiting for her. She walked at a brisk pace across the docks and back into The Limping Weasel, looking around for her fellow convicts and hoping that hey hadn't left without her already...
[OOC: I'd like for Alex to be the last/one of the last to return, so Alex will be "busy" doing the things in this roleplay until most of the group has returned to the pub with Narshal. Once that happens, then just assume that she walks in and begins looking around for the group, and I'll pick up from there.]
There was no ceremony when they let him out, barely a word exchanged as they went back on the promise they had hissed at him over and over through the door of his cell. He was never getting out. He would rot in there forever. The chains would hold tight to his wings, always uncomfortable, until they shrunk away into oblivion and he was left forever stranded, deep underground. Even the Devil would not be able to find him down here. He was never getting out.