Siora had finally made it to Kirkwall. The journey had been long and gruelling, but the few villages she had passed through had provided her with enough coins to keep her going until she reached the city. Now, standing on the bustling streets of Kirkwall, she knew she would need to find work soon or, hopefully, another tavern willing to take on an unknown bard for entertainment.
She hadn't been able to trace Leena as of yet; her sister's trail had gone cold. There had been no mention of Bastien's progress on catching up with either of them. Siora wasn't sure if that was good or not. Bastien would likely keep news of capturing Leena to himself. The thought of her sister's fate if Bastien caught her sent shivers down Siora's spine. She couldn't bear the idea of Leena suffering while she had managed to maintain her freedom.
Somewhere along the way, Siora had picked up a tag-along. The man had been following her since she entered Lowtown, but she had ignored him, focusing instead on going from tavern to tavern, attempting to sweet-talk her way into a spot. Her lute and bow, strapped to her back, marked her clearly as a minstrel, though a lone minstrel was unusual. She was a fresh face, green around the edges despite Bastien's training. A country girl, Siora was unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of the city and lost track of the eyes following her.
After leaving the Sleeping Gryphon, a particular tavern that had turned her down, she turned a corner into a lane that would take her back to the main street when it happened. Two pairs of hands grabbed her from either side, and a third knocked the back of her knee, unbalancing her and causing her to fall. She grunted loudly, the sound echoing off the narrow walls of the lane. Her assailants didn't seem to like that, and soon enough, she was grappling to stop a sack from being forced over her head while wriggling against the hands trying to pin her down.
Panic surged through her as she fought back. She managed to elbow one of the attackers in the ribs, earning a grunt of pain. But it wasn't enough. The sack was yanked over her head, plunging her into darkness. She kicked and thrashed, her movements growing more frantic. The smell of rough burlap filled her nostrils, and she could feel the coarse fabric scraping against her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears.
"Hold her still, damn it!" one of the men growled, his voice muffled through the sack.
Siora's mind raced. She couldn't let them take her. She had to think of something, anything. Desperation gave her strength, and she managed to twist her body enough to bite down hard on the hand covering her mouth. The man yelped in pain, his grip loosening just enough for her to scream.
The cry echoed through the alleyway, reaching the ears of passersby. She hoped someone would come to her aid, but her attackers were quick to react. A fist connected with her stomach, driving the air from her lungs and silencing her scream. She doubled over, gasping for breath, her struggles weakening.
Just as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, the sounds of a scuffle reached her ears. The pressure on her limbs lessened, and the hands holding her down were suddenly gone. She ripped the sack from her head, gulping in the fresh air. Blinking against the fading daylight, she saw a few figures standing over her, and understanding the smirks across their faces, fought harder. Pain exploded across her face but still she struggled, the taste of bloody copper trickled into her mouth… had they broken her nose… no… but close?
@Danny
She hadn't been able to trace Leena as of yet; her sister's trail had gone cold. There had been no mention of Bastien's progress on catching up with either of them. Siora wasn't sure if that was good or not. Bastien would likely keep news of capturing Leena to himself. The thought of her sister's fate if Bastien caught her sent shivers down Siora's spine. She couldn't bear the idea of Leena suffering while she had managed to maintain her freedom.
Somewhere along the way, Siora had picked up a tag-along. The man had been following her since she entered Lowtown, but she had ignored him, focusing instead on going from tavern to tavern, attempting to sweet-talk her way into a spot. Her lute and bow, strapped to her back, marked her clearly as a minstrel, though a lone minstrel was unusual. She was a fresh face, green around the edges despite Bastien's training. A country girl, Siora was unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of the city and lost track of the eyes following her.
After leaving the Sleeping Gryphon, a particular tavern that had turned her down, she turned a corner into a lane that would take her back to the main street when it happened. Two pairs of hands grabbed her from either side, and a third knocked the back of her knee, unbalancing her and causing her to fall. She grunted loudly, the sound echoing off the narrow walls of the lane. Her assailants didn't seem to like that, and soon enough, she was grappling to stop a sack from being forced over her head while wriggling against the hands trying to pin her down.
Panic surged through her as she fought back. She managed to elbow one of the attackers in the ribs, earning a grunt of pain. But it wasn't enough. The sack was yanked over her head, plunging her into darkness. She kicked and thrashed, her movements growing more frantic. The smell of rough burlap filled her nostrils, and she could feel the coarse fabric scraping against her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears.
"Hold her still, damn it!" one of the men growled, his voice muffled through the sack.
Siora's mind raced. She couldn't let them take her. She had to think of something, anything. Desperation gave her strength, and she managed to twist her body enough to bite down hard on the hand covering her mouth. The man yelped in pain, his grip loosening just enough for her to scream.
Help! Somebody!
The cry echoed through the alleyway, reaching the ears of passersby. She hoped someone would come to her aid, but her attackers were quick to react. A fist connected with her stomach, driving the air from her lungs and silencing her scream. She doubled over, gasping for breath, her struggles weakening.
Just as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, the sounds of a scuffle reached her ears. The pressure on her limbs lessened, and the hands holding her down were suddenly gone. She ripped the sack from her head, gulping in the fresh air. Blinking against the fading daylight, she saw a few figures standing over her, and understanding the smirks across their faces, fought harder. Pain exploded across her face but still she struggled, the taste of bloody copper trickled into her mouth… had they broken her nose… no… but close?
@Danny
07-26-2024, 12:11 PM
