The Lost House


Sir Basil

Original poster
The kingdom was at peace. The land had broken away from the Northern Reaches long ago - the one noble house that wasn't tainted escaped to the South. There, had risen up a port city. The city was called Cer. A beautiful city with many twists and turns, arches and gardens, and of course, the harbor, with its great sweeping ships. The climate was mild, with soft breezes and a dry heat that clung to the city streets. It was nothing like the North, where the noble house had crawled from. The House of Libon had made the South its home for a long time now, generations upon generations of Libons had ruled over the city. The were a lawful family, proud of their traditions, but with a healthy respect for the rules of the people. The good king Bovh Libon had ruled over Cer for many years. He had a son. Only one. His name was Aleron Libon, and was well known to be a summoner and knight - chivalrous and noble. He was the crown prince, and the people loved him, and his strange, pale family, with their dark hair and blue eyes. And then, one day, the king was assassinated. King Bovh Libon had been the wielder of a very special sword. It was called Deheubartha, the Blade of the Lost House. It had been in the house of Libon since the day it was forged, the day the family first came to the South and became the rulers of Cer. And the sword was gone, when they found the king's body, still sitting in his Throne. The King had been stabbed through the heart, and runes of demonic power surrounded him. The whole palace glowed with the light from Hell itself. The Queen, reportedly, sat on her throne next to the king, and did not move from the spot, even when the mages tried to cleanse the ground, she did not move. And with the sword, and the king's life, the crown prince Aleron also disappeared. The assassin was seen running from the palace. They were wearing a thick, black cape, and an over sized hood. Their face could not be seen, but in their hand, there was the glimmer of a dagger and the flash of red blood. The cannoneers did not hesitate. A splay of bullets, thick, heavy lead bullets were shot at the assassin. And the identity of the the assassin remained undiscovered, because by the time the canoneers got down to the palace's gates from their high point on the steps, there was no body. There was just a trail of blood.
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There was a young man on the top of a building. He was crawling on the roof-tops, and watched the bustling streets for a moment with careful, curious eyes - like blue glass marbles. The young man was handsomely dressed; blue tunic, grey leggings, and a fine pair of black boots. His hair was as black as his boots, and was too long for pleasant company. He carried a sword at his side, something that was unusually large for the young man's lithe build. It had a royal crest of some kind on it, the same sort of design embroidered around the base of his tunic. There was some sort of primitive firearm at his waist as well, but to the ignorant, it was just a strange, thick stick. The young man had a stain on the front of the tunic as well, a large red cloud around a hole in both tunic and skin. There was a hole. A huge, gaping hole. He was run all the way through. He promptly leapt onto the street, hiding the hole in his chest as best he could, tossing a bit of a blue cloak over it. He coughed a little, some blood staining his lips, and he ducked through the crowds, trying to move swiftly, so that nobody got a very good look at him. He was moving as fast as he could, with the hole and all. He was trying to make it to the docks. And so, he kept moving, and moving, until he came to the edge of the harbour. He watched the grand ships pass, with their wooden masts and ornately carved figureheads. And then he saw the platoon of guards walking around the harbour. So he ran, on those black boots, up the ramp into the first ship he saw.
Selene awoke and a raspy gasp escaped from her lips. Her body was sore and numb from being chained and confined into a small, cramped space, but she still felt the burning sensation as icy water pierced her skin. The room was dim; she could make out nothing but abstract shapes and shadows.

She let her eyes slowly adjust to the lack of light until she could finally make out specifics. There was one lantern, an old, kerosene one; it was set on the floor. Her eyes wandered away from the lantern to the nearby tangled mass of chains. Her eyes trailed a certain set of chains and realized it ended at her arms. It was only then that she realized that there was another arm next to her's. The arm was shivering uncontrollably.

She gasped and raised a hand to cover her mouth. The sound of shaking chains rang and echoed throughout the small space, letting her know just how small the room really was; it couldn't be more than 3 feet tall. She scanned the ceilings, and then spotted the trap door. It was her way out.

"Hello?" She said. Her voice worked. That was a plus.

Moments passed, however, there was no response. Her eyes had now completely adjusted to the light. She could tell there were others. At least 5. They all looked weak and pale.

"Hello?" She said again, this time louder than before.

"Shut up!" A gruff voice replied. It came from the other side of the trap door.

"The woman beside me, she's ill," She pleaded.

"Shut up, I said!" Bellowed the same voice.

"If she's not treated, we'll all die," She cried back. A plan had formulated in her head. "We-We're slaves right? You can't deliver damaged goods. Unchain me and I promise I will tend to her."

She heard a grunt, and then the sound of the trap door unlocking. Bright light flooded through the room, blinding me temporarily.

The guard peaked in through the hole. "Which one of you is the talking brat?"


The guard motioned for Selene to stand. She raised her arm so he could unchain them. As soon as he did, she threw a punch at him. Luckily for her, her arms were numb, otherwise she might have screamed out in pain.

She leaped out from the small space, onto to floorboards above, kicked the guard again, and ran as fast as she could. Where she was running, she didn't know, but she had to run. She had to get off the ship.

OOC: This is my first RP for many, many years, please let me know if I'm doing anything wrong!
[DASH=#8B0000]Aleron was running to the ship, and then saw a girl, running as well. He looked at her with those cold blue eyes, his hand holding the robe close to the gaping hole in his chest. The robe, however, was starting to feel slick, and sure enough, was going black with the wet splatter of blood. He swore under his breath. He didn't feel sick or weak, even though he was bleeding out, run through the middle, with a hole in his chest. He just knew that he had to keep running. He had to get to the North. The South was no longer safe. His father was dead, and the demons were returning to this land. Maybe his relatives would remember the lost house. He doubted it.

Run Run Run. Run as fast as you can.

There it was again. That whisper in his ear. It was like his whole conciousness was dedicated to escape. And he planned to indulge it by continuing to run. He would run until the hole in his chest healed and his face changed and people forgot him. So he kept running, and then he saw the girl. He wondered what she was escaping from. She wasn't from the South, he could see that immediately. Perhaps she was a refugee from the North. Perhaps she could help him find a place to stay. Perhaps she could shelter him. Besides, she didn't know who he was. And that was for the best.

So he, very strategically, ran into her.
Eamon was watching from the shadows, melding perfectly into his surroundings. He wore a green cloak with a large, enveloping hood to hide his appearance from the public eye. The only visible part of his face was his mouth which never seemed to waver. The rest of his attire was simple, tanned leather boots and a common brown tunic to prevent unwanted attention.

He had come to the port looking for fellow humans of uncommon ability. This young man was certainly an uncommon sort. Eamon followed him through the streets, remaining hidden from view. He was curious to discover just where the man was running to in such a hurry. Eamon however, failed to notice the girl and was shocked when they collided into one another. The strange thing was, the man in blue seemed to have done this deliberately.

An interesting choice...

He moved closer, his mouth curling enough to show just a hint of his excitement. The first step has begun.
Selene landed with a loud thud. She winced in pain upon impact with the soggy and hard wooden surface of the ship. Her brown eyes stared up at the young man who stood tall and firm before her. A hand was concealed under his robes, no doubt concealing a deadly weapon. She stared into his eyes; they were cold and showed no mercy.

She thought about escaping, but a quick scan of her surroundings told her she was surrounded. She could hear the sounds of footsteps from behind, below and beside her, and they were quickly getting louder--closer. The only path to freedom was blocked by the man standing before her. This was the end for her.

"Do away with me as you wish, but I submit to no one," she said, her gray eyes firmly staring into his, surprising herself with how calm her voice was. It must be the sedative effects of embracing death, she thought to herself.
Aleron looked at her with those cold blue eyes and began to laugh slightly. He offered her a hand up. Unfortunately, said hand was slick with blood. He grimaced, and put it back under his robe, extending his other hand. This hand was mercifully clean. Aleron seemed surprised by her calmness as well. That must be a Northern thing. I hear that my relatives are known for their calmness. Their terrible, terrible calmness before they snap. He didn't waste time waiting for her to grab his hand. He simply grabbed it, and made an attempt to pull her up from the ground. "We have to run." He said flatly, "If you do not run, the-"

Aleron looked over her shoulder, trying to identify what her persuersers were. Sailors, of some sort. His eyes narrowed at them, theives and sailors. Drinkers and carolers. It didn't matter. His ears were pounding. Run, run, as fast as you can. He grit his teeth, looking down at the girl. He said calmly, "
I'm carrying you to safety. This is not an act of charity." He opened his arms wide, in a gesture to lift her up. One hand was bloody, and the drip of his blood made a soft patter on the ground. The other was as white as snow. But the thing truly meaningful about the gesture was it exposed the hole through his chest - and the blood spilled down the front of his shirt - no organs, no bone, just blood.

"Don't worry. You can trust me. As for the hole...I don't feel it anymore."
What a commotion. She smirked as she watched, her blue eyes watching the entire scene with amusement. Of course, Veri Falsum couldn’t exactly hear the commotion, but she was amused none the less. Veri was currently sat upon one of the many rooftops of Cer, watching below, where, near the docks, some sort of chase was going on. It really was quite amusing, for people were going everywhere, running in circles and scattering like panicked... ants. Yes, ants, for their reduced size, although not ant like, made Veri think of the little bugs. The way they panicked and fled if one was stepped on…Yes, these people were like ants.

It had started as Veri had been strolling along, and picked a few purses. Wanting to see how much she had earned, she had secretly climbed to the rooftops and counted her winnings. It might seem odd for someone to hideout on the rooftops, but few people tended to look there, and it was one of Veri’s favourite places. She always enjoyed relaxing upon a rooftop and watching the city below, it was ever so relaxing. Deciding she had made enough money for supplies that week, she had lounged down on her stomach, watching the city, the folds of her cape resting against her back. And that is when the first runner came about, dressed in handsome clothes and armed with a sword… and a stick?... he ran quickly towards the boats. Following him, although not running, was a man in a green cloak. A girl also decided to spring from one of the docked ships, and the first runner collided with her. Veri smiled slightly, amused by their antics, and sat up to receive a better view. Those two seemed very amusing, and now sailors emerged from the same boat as the girl, chasing her as well. Veri wasn’t a fan of sailors, they were rough and brutal, and did acts of thievery. But she didn’t consider them thieves, oh no; thieves were beings of elegant subtlety. Sailors were just pirates.

Still, these sailors amused her as they all fumbled and ran. Her amusement and smile was cut short, as the boy reached out a hand to the girl, one soaked in crimson. Obviously realizing this, he hid his hand away and pulled her up with a snowy white one. Now Veri was standing, shocked at the state of the hurt man, running around with so much blood on him; she couldn’t see the wound from her eagle’s perch, but she knew it must hurt, to have that much blood on his hands.

Should I help them? She wondered for a moment. Thieves helped no one except thieves, which was a Guild rule. And yet, these people were on the run, and it wasn’t exactly common for peasants to be running for their lives, which made them criminals or refugees. Her code stated she must help any thief, as long as it didn’t cause her harm, but were these two thieves? Was it worth helping them?

She felt stupidly moral, a flaw among her. Thieves weren’t supposed to be moral! And yet there she was, descending from the roof, sneaking towards the duo, ready to offer assistance when she arrived. What are you getting yourself into Veri, you idiot?
His laugh caught her off guard. But she did not have time to ponder on it. He had offered her his hand, but it was a stranger's hand, not to mention the first of which was covered in blood. Where she came from, strangers were not to be trusted. No one was to be trusted.

She gasped in surprise when she saw what he had truly been concealing beneath his cloak--not a weapon, but a wound. One that looked fatal. She was surprised he could even stand. Yet he is trying to... What? Rescue me? The last thought lingered uncomfortably close to her heart, making it skip a beat. Except that he had explicitly said it wasn't an act of charity. He could trap her into a situation far worse than slavery. She knew, however, that it was risk she would have to take.

She said nothing, neither trusting the man nor casting him off as a liar, and took his hand. She stood up and felt a sudden sickness overcome her. The boat was moving. In the time the two of them had been idling before each other, the ship was leaving the docks. What were they to do? They would soon be surrounded by merciless waters and its strong tides that would surely drown them if they were get caught in one, yet that would be their only option.

But it was too late. The sailors had surrounded the two of them. She could feel the sailors' shouts and curses roaring in her ear. The boat was now two feet away from the dock. They could still make it, but not while they were surrounded.
Aleron looked at the hordes of sailors and rascals. He narrowed his blue eyes, and looked at them. He pushed the girl, behind him slightly, taking a step close to the edge of the boat. He drew his sword. Or rather, he drew his scabbard. The sword would not come free from the scabbard. But he drew it, and pointed it at the sailors. The scabbard was ornately carved, with twisting vines and a floral pattern. His eyes were sharp, shards of glass in his face. The young prince said some words, something half heard and half mumbled. Something in a foreign tongue. He dripped, dripped, dripped blood on the ground. The sailors got a clear view of the hole through his chest. He turned, scabbard raised, and showed all of them.

The sailors muttered to themselves, "How is he still alive?" "He's got the demon blood!" "How can he walk?" Aleron looked at their confusion with a small smile. He set his tabard back in his belt strip, and picked up the girl in his arms, seeing that she would likely yield him that gesture. He looked at the sailors and said coldly, "
If you try to stop me, I will have to kill you all. Stand aside." He looked down at the girl in his arms. His diplomacy usually didn't work very well. But perhaps, with his new gift, it would. That and he was bleeding out. Still being quite alive and well, with a slightly larger than fist sized hole through your chest was rather intimidating. Or at least, confusing.

Aleron watched as the sailors, the first few, nervously, dispersed from around him. He hopped back over to the docks, swaying slightly on the edge, his blood leaving a trail through the water, and now, on the edge of the dock. He set the girl down. Strictly speaking, he shouldn't have been able to carry her. He was a lithe, medium sized boy, with not much muscle. He shouldn't have been able to do such a thing.
"Stay away from guards. That trick won't work on them." He said flatly, "We need to get a ship that's going to the North." He narrowed his eyes, "I was hoping the North was your country of origin." His hair prickled slightly.

The sailors may have been too weak willed and dull - able to fall victim to Aleron's injury, but there was somebody else there. The sailors may have been gone, shaking in their boots about the undead prince, the demon lord, the ghost of vengeance (or whatever ridiculous title the sailors chose for him- such people were superstitious by nature) but he felt another presence.

It was absurd to say it, since they were in the bustling habour, but he said flatly,
"We are not alone."
Nick was heading to the rooftop of one of the many buildings where his friend Veri was. The panic in the city was big, he didnt care much thats why he was going to his friend. They were frinds from little both of them were thiefs sotheir friendship was funyer. Nick was wearing normal clothes, he was quit tall with a black but not that long hair he was with blue eyes and with a tan skin, he got a scar on his cheek from a fight that ended bad for him. Nick lived on his own cuz his perants were murdered, he lives as a thief thats the only way he could survieve, he was relaing on his Veris help sometimes, he realy cared for Veri and helped her as well. Nick sat next to Veri and looked at her, she looked nervous "Veri are you ok" he asked worried for her.
It was odd, one moment the mysterious duo was surrounded by sailors, but the wounded man simply spoke, and they dispersed. He must have a wickedly silvered tongue to get hostile sailors to back away from their prize, or some sort of immensely revealing blackmail. Still, it didn’t make much sense, and yet another enigma seemed to surround this bleeding man. He picked up the girl and jumped back to shore, and Veri finally got a look at his wound. How is he still standing? She wondered, shocked into immobility.

“Veri, are you okay?” Veri whipped out a dagger, freed from her petrified state, and almost stabbed the boy, before realizing who it was and sheathed her dagger.

“Sorry Nick, I’m just jumpy.” She muttered to the blue eyed boy, her eyes returning to the mysterious man. “Stay here,” she gave an absent wave to Nick, distracted, and slowly approached the duo,catching their last words and seemingly feeling as if she couldn’t let them die. “You are not alone, true, but I am here to offer assistance. I know it may seem odd, a stranger helping you, but the chances of you surviving with that wound seem slim. Let me help you, for your sake.” She removed her hood, which rubbed against her brown hair and frizzed it slightly, and gave a small smile of reassurance. She couldn’t really figure out why she was there, but it was a bit late to question it. She just felt as if it was her duty to help. First morals, now duties? Veri you are a horrible thief!
"Veri whats with you? is something wrong" Nick saw Veri walking to some peoples, she didnt even hear my question, Nick tought to himself "Now what is she doing". Nick saw that Veri is offering her help to the two peoples, Nick quickly stood up and run where she was. He puted his hand on her shoulder and then turned her back infront of my face "Veri what are you doing you know the thief code" Nick grabed her hand and started walking in the oposite direction
Eamon could scarcely believe his eyes, the young man in the blue tunic suffered from a wound that should prove fatal to any mortal man. The hole in his chest was significant and continued to bleed profusely, he doubted even a skilled healer would be able to close it. Even more remarkable, he was not only still on his feet, he was able to lift up the girl he had ran into and jumped back to the docks with her. The girl... there was something strange about her. She seemed ordinary enough but Eamon could already tell that this was not the case.

Eamon began to approach the two of them when a woman approached them. She appeared to be a thief and carried herself with confidence. He believed he knew this woman, though only from hushed rumors floating through the market streets at night. Her name was Veri if he was not mistaken. He had never run across her in person before. Despite her reputation she seemed to be trying to help. This was in clear violation of the thieve's code. Eamon's fingertips began to crackle with energy in anticipation. He had not expected such a grand turn-out this day. Eamon silenced his power and approached the group. He moved with purpose, his hood concealing the excitement in his eyes. Just then who appeared to be a second thief emerged. He looked panicked and grabbed Veri by hand, trying to lead her away. Keeping the code, no doubt.

Eamon slowly approached behind the girl and man in blue. "You don't want to do that, friend." His voice called out to the second thief. "Like it or not, you two are already involved. The city guard are on their way to this very spot, I can feel them coming."
Nick heard a man behind him, he quickly grabed his dagger and put it on the mans throut then he said with a cold voice at him "Back of we are leaving" Nick watched at the man with anger he didnt want to get in a fight right now cuz he heared that the man said that the guards were coming this way, Nick wanted to get out of here with Veri as quick as he cant but this man stoped them
Aleron looked at the small scene, and then at the girl in his hands. His flinty eyes narrowed, and his smile stretched into a frown. He didn't drop the girl from his arms, he merely stared at the three who had gathered around him. A soft sea breeze passed through, ruffling Aleron's dark hair, causing it to hang over his face. It occurred to him that he was getting his blood on the girl in his arms. She was,basically adjacent to the hole. He doubted that she enjoyed having his meat and chemicals in her face, and thus, he finally set her gently down. He rested one hand on the pommel of his sword and scabbard, a grimace spreading across his face.

"If the guards come, I can do little to stop them. I can perhaps conceal us, for a time."
His dark brows furrowed, "But if they catch sight of me, they will not give up." He turned to look at the female thief, his other hand gesturing to the gaping hole in his chest, "It's fine, miss. The wound isn't fatal. It hardly hurts." The wound, as if in protest, spit out some more dark red blood, making a splatter against the dock.

He narrows his eyes,
"I have to board the next ship to the North."
Nick grabbed her, began dragging her away. Veri was giving him foul words, trying to make him let her go. “I don’t care Nick, I want to help. I need to help. I know it! You aren’t my father, so let go!”

Another new voice joined in, and she turned to see the cloaked man from earlier. Retching her arm from Nick’s grasp and muttering a word of. “Exactly, so just get out of here while you can Nick,” She sprinted back towards the group. She seemed to feel shame and abashment that they knew she was a petty thief, for thieves were always frowned upon. She lowered her gaze, watching the wounded man’s gaping red hole instead of his face. But her eyes whipped up in amazement at his words, and she stared at his face. How can he survive it?

“At least let me offer you shelter and food, until the next ship to the North comes to port. I can get you a place nearby where guards shall not disturb you. Free shelter, food, and I will gather what medicine I can for your ‘hardly’ hurting wound.” She offered, a touch of her old spunky sarcasm coming in at mention of the bloody hole. “I will care for your friend as well, for she doesn’t seem her best.”

She turned her eyes to the other mysterious man, the one who had nothing to do here and simply approached them. Her eyes narrowed slightly, for she didn’t trust him, some stranger randomly coming just to warn them of guards. Was he one himself? Who was he? Whoever he was, she didn’t exactly extend her offer to him.
Nick puted his dagger back not trusting the man that warn them of the guards at all, he looked at him strangly and then walked to were Veri and the other two was. Nick didnt want to do this but he couldn leave Veri alone, so he didnt have any choise, Nick had to break the code for this two, but he couldnt leave Veri alone cuz if something happen to her he would never fogive himself. Nick standed next to Veri and said to her "Veri im not leaving you alone... even if i dont want to help the two of them i dont want something to happen to you" Nick said it then looked at the girl and the boy he didnt notice at first but then he saw that the boy had a hole in his chest, Nick tought to himself "How is he still alive" he countinue to look at his hole not saing anything.
Eamon almost smirked at the young thief. He certainly had some fight in him but he had no idea how useless a single dagger was compared to a sorcerer's magic. Eamon had to admit, he too was considered rash among his fellow mages. It came with youth. Truth be told, he was not meant to intervene but he just couldn't stay away. Not on a day like this.

The woman Veri had offered food, shelter and protection from the town guards to everyone but himself, at least for a while. She did not trust him and Eamon could understand why. She was cunning, resourceful. She would prove quite useful during the things to come. However, because of the distractions and commotion that the sailors had provided, she was too slow.

"Time is out, the guards will be upon us soon. We must either run now--" Eamon raised up a single hand, his hooded face looked down at it and small bolts of electricity crackled and sparked from his palm. "--or we must fight them." Eamon said with a confidant grin, baring his teeth. "I personally don't care one way or the other."
Nick saw the strange man forming electricity in his hand, Nick looked at him with a confused look, the man looked like a sorcerer he never seen one befor, he was curious what the man can do, he looked like he was ready for fight Nick smiled at him and said with a cold tone "I guess you are ready for a fight" Nick saw the guards surounding them, he got out his two daggers and prepear for a fight then he told to the sorcerer "I guess we dont have a choise we have to fight" Nick watched at the guards and said "They arent that many we will take them down easily"
((This might be tl;dr material. I would recommend just reading the one-sentence summary at the bottom. Agh, MS word does not like copy/paste.))

It had been too long. Too long since she had eaten, too long since she had had a sip of anything, and too long since she had been captured and throwni nto the underbelly of a ship to rot in her own filth until the ship reached the shore. Many hours were wasted in an abysmal sleep afterbeing thumped on the side of the head with a rock. Even still, there was acrust of dried blood matting her brown tangles and occasionally dripping blood into her left eye. After awakening, she had spent a while bemoaning her capture until she put herself to work. For hours she had picked and poked at her chains with an old hair pin, fearing that she would call attention to herself and have her feeble efforts ended. They were ended anyways; the hairpin bent too far and then snapped, giving in to the abuse it had suffered. Dark eyes glinted in annoyance as she stared at the unmoving chains and broken hairpin. <o:p></o:p>

"Shite 'n' a half..." she murmured. For a while she just lay there like a stump and shivered in the dark.<o:p></o:p>
A rush of fire reignited in her spirits though, when she remembered what she still had left to achieve. Her efforts to free her hands were renewed, this time focusing on brute force to shove them over freezing skin and small, brittle bones. She couldn't feel anything but pressure and the occasional pinch of skin being roughed up, so tugging the metal brackets off her wrists turned out to be easier than maneuvering a tiny pin around in a lock with numb fingers.<o:p></o:p>

One cuff slid off onto the floor with a quiet clack, and she inhaled sharply. No one seemed to notice, but her nerves made it hard to move on to the other cuff. What if someone finally noticed what she was doing? Slowly, like prey wary of an invisible predator, she began working on the other cuff. This one was easier, having figured out with the first cuff the best way to squeeze it off. She scrunched her hand together into the smallest shape it could form, and then violently pushed the cuff over the bones that still protruded, tearing the skin a bit.

But she was finally free. Like her body, her mind was numb, even to this startling revelation. She shook with excitement, unaware that the girl next to her had awakened.<o:p></o:p>

“Hello?” a voice called out. <o:p></o:p>

The verbal exchange between the girl next to her and the guard outside was too short to debate on whether or not to use this chance to escape. Within a few short minutes, the trap door was opened, and the girl next to her had escaped.

Time did not slow down. Methods of escaping did not race through her mind. She just took a deep breath and bolted. <o:p></o:p>

She cracked her head on the low ceiling first thing, but then she slithered across the stunned guard, out of the trap door, and onto the freezing deck. Only one sailor saw her; the others were chasing the girl that had escaped first. Hallian’s legs were next to useless; they were too cold and had gone unused for so long that she couldn’t move efficiently. But she ran anyways. An arm wrapped around her waist the second her feet felt the edge of the ship. A shrill, desperate scream turned into the snarls of an animal fighting for its life. The man dragging her back to the ship fought with her, threatening her with a dagger to her side, but she paid him no heed. Finally, she resorted to going dead weight which worked surprisingly well, especially when she sank her teeth deep into the man’s wrist. He yelped and Halla slid onto the ground, unable to feel the furrow carved into her side through the numbness of cold and adrenaline.

<o:p></o:p>She passed a group of sailors staring in amazement at two figures on the dock that she didn’t bother to examine. Apparently she also didn’t bother to examine that the ship was not docked, because when she reached the edge, she tumbled head first into the dock, smacking her shoulder and head before she started slid further into the icy water. The spikes of pain radiating from her head and shoulder were startling on their own, but the waterw as the most alarming. It clung to her like it wanted to embrace her. For a brief, terrifying moment, she was submerged completely. Halla floundered uselessly to grasp the dock, just about to give up when she flailed so violently that she burst out of the water and clapped her hand onto solid wood. From there she scrambled until she was once again running to safety. <o:p></o:p>

She was far behind the girl that had escaped before her, and Halla would have joined her fellow escapee if it had not been for the group of people gathered there with her. Slowing her pace to a crawl, she hid herself in the shadow of a building,watching them from around the corner until she could determine if they were safe or not. She heard a girl offer a safe place, and against her better judgment, Hallian sidled up next to them slowly and just stood there soggy and panting. All she could hope was that they wouldn’t shoo her away or kill her. <o:p></o:p>
((Summary: Girl (Hallian) is captured, put on a ship for two days, eventually ending up next to Selene, escaped by luck and determination after Selene unwittingly gave her an opening, and Hallian (Halla) now standing behind the group, filthy, sopping wet, and generally looking like hell.)) <o:p></o:p>