Thread: Another Life {Cheshire Smirk & Blinkk}

Hope you don't mind a little rag-dolling as Lea has surrendered herself. I'd also bring a flashlight for this next post. It went to the dark places. Look at her, all silent-like and accepting in a right pretty package! We can't bring her to the ship looking this proper. Spear and ax went clattering to the ground as the men approached. The Baarskor warriors were no fools however, they knew full well how easily blades could be concealed. Each man held a long wickedly curved belt knife in his right hand, both tense and ready for any desperate stunts Lea had planned. Besides, what if the spirits actually were with this holy woman? One never cornered a snake without a cleft stick. Enemy shamans were always approached with the same sort of caution. It was hard to remain cautious with such a prize at hand however. Lea was a feast for the eyes and both men had a sneaking feeling her body was fresh and untouched, pure as the white her cloth had once been. Most young holy woman proved to be of such sorts... A booted foot swung hard into Lia's spine, stepping down to force her face first into the dirt. Both men squatted down and quickly pushed their blades through the seams of Lea's robes. It was surprising how careful, precise and swift they were with the incisions. Even marred with blood, ash and soil the priestess' robes could still be repurposed quite efficiently and so the cuts wasted no fabric. Undergarments were cut away too, clothing discarded in a neat little pile to be dealt with once other matters were 'attended to'. This was hardly the most ideal or comfortable place for what was to follow, but both of the warriors were in the mood for quick relief. Such actions were typical of the Unbound as they spent months at sea without any form of relief, all the while knowing that in other quarters throughout the ship maiden and warrior were exhausting their carnal frustrations regularly. A streak of cruel genius struck the man who'd previously been holding a spear. The man loosed his belt and picked up a charred nail from the cobble. Skin as tough as leather and worn from years of exposure to blistering winds and hard work tightened around Lea's ankle and he dragged her across the street to one of Trept's last standing buildings. Smoke billowed out from the windows, fire reaching up angrily to the skies above. In an easy motion the man forced Lea to her feet, the other man stepping quickly in tow to assist in what was to come. Lea's arms were forced above her head and bound, the leather nail forced through the bindings and deep into the wood beneath. Charred and rough steel bit into Lea's palms, avoiding skewering her hands by a hair's breadth. Then the two stepped away to survey their handiwork. This was going to be the kind of memory a warrior savored. A treasure selfishly hoarded was so much more enjoyable than one that was divvied out through protocol and judgement. Much better. Now a good question is do we leave her once we're done or haul her back to the ship? An even better question is...Who goes first? The words were as light-hearted as banter about the weather. How about we flip for it? The second man suggested, producing a strange gold coin from one of the pouches that hung from his belt.