Arian the Raven. Its what they called her, not something she chose or cared for, but as a bounty hunter you earned a name for yourself when you started to get well known in the bounty hunting circle, not that she could call the few pittances of gang members and convicts she'd hunted worthy of mention, but it at least defined what she did with her life. Raven came because of her hair, jet black, feathered around her face but still smooth. Sharp, judging eyes, and swift moves, skill with her guns, revolvers, old models, yes, but with the newest materials for durability.

She sat on the back of a cart that was trundling into town calmly, her hat tilted down as she leaned on her knees, boots danging inches above the passing ground and stones set into the road the steady clomping of the horse drawing the cart could be heard in the rather quiet street, mid-day, bit peaceful. Arian looked up a little, seeing guardsmen looking in her direction. They were old fashioned, full plate armor, halberds, short-swords at their waists. Another patrol being passed, outfitted with long-swords and lighter armor for ease of movement.

She didn't have reputation to speak of in this city, hell she didn't even know its name, not that she'd paid attention, she just asked if the man driving the cart was going to a town or city. Life as a wanderer, ruin seeker and a bounty hunter, it was one of travel and going with the flow where she had to.
She placed her hand on the satchel to her side, it held necessities, her cash, a change of clothes, a couple ammo boxes, spare parts and tools to help fix and clean her guns if she couldn't get to a gunsmith and of course provisions,
"Thanks a bunch pops." She spoke over her shoulder to the old man driving the cart. He grunted a response as she hopped off the back, securing her satchel and heading for the nearest bar.

Arian stepped in to the curious stares of some men, she didn't dress much like a woman, grey vest, a white sleeveless jacket exposing toned muscles, leather gloves with arm-guards, their backs plated. Around her waist her belt secured the holsters for her two revolvers, a secondary belt acting as support. The belts also acted to hold up the cargo trousers she wore, these baggy, feeding into calf-high boots, buckled and guarded up the front, a plate over the toes.

She made her way to the counter itself, a young woman nervously cleaning glasses and putting them away as the gunslinger sat down, placing the satchel between her feet after retrieving her wallet from it,
"Wh-what'll it be ma'am..?"
"Something strong." She replied without hesitation, "Sell any cigarettes here?"
"Y-yes, w-would you like a pack?"
The woman raised her hand, with a single finger raised, indicating she only wanted one. Arian turned on her seat then, resting her elbows on the bar and looking across room calmly, though found nothing noticeably interesting about it.

It didn't take long for the drink and cigarettes to be provided, Arian turning again to retrieve the drink first, downing a couple of gulps and placing the mug down, the taste certainly awoke her senses, her dry throat appreciating the feeling of liquid coursing through it. She shelled out the cash for the drink and packer, before opening up cigarette box patting the bottom of it to smoothly make one stand out, bringing the pack up to her lips sot hat she could draw it out, lighting it calmly afterwards,
"S'bad for you health missy." A voice to her side stated, Arian looking aside to him for a moment, he looked like a fellow traveler, though he had a sword, unlike herself. She looked away again, calmly drawing in a breath from the cigarette and exhaling it, ignoring the unwarranted concern. The man chuckled though,
"I'm talkin' t'you."
"Don't care." Arian replied, taking the cigarette out of her mouth for a moment so she could drink again, putting down the mug again while the man chuckled yet again,
"Dont care she says.. That's good.. That's good.." He made an unimpressed smirk, getting closer, Arian could smell the far stronger amount of alcohol on his breath, so much it almost disgusted her, however she could predict what was coming next as he put his hand on her shoulder whilst she put the cigarette to her lips once again.
It was over quickly, she grabbed his wrist with one-hand, reaching behind him to the back of his head and smashing the side of his face against the bar, pinning him there so that he was looking in her direction, terrified eyes darting about. The shock of the attack sapped the strength from him as she shock in an uncontrolled manner, like a marionette with several strings detached, his body not really receiving the signals to try and escape, a little blood was coming from his mouth, he'd probably cut into his own cheek with his teeth from the force of the impact,
"Touch me again and I'll kill you.." She hissed calmly into his ear, standing up off of the stool and letting the man go, he collapsed back, beginning to crawl away, one hand brushing over his mouth as the woman put her wallet away in her satchel.

With one last swig of the drink she put her satchel on her shoulder, popping the cigarette box into one of her pockets and making her way out of the bar. She hadn't gotten far before she sighed, lowering her head slightly,
"Oh boy.." She didn't need this..
The man had followed her out.. So had his friends.. She didn't need this on her first day in a new city. She looked over her shoulder at them, lowering her satchel as they began to spread around her. The gunslinger counted them carefully, two behind, three on the sides, two to the left, two to the right, and two in front, their leader, idiot man, still bleeding from the mouth, taking point,
"Yer gonna pay fer that lil stunt.." he growled, nodding to one of the men behind her. Not a smart move on his part, the one to her back on the right ran forward but, with a loud ringing crack, a gunshot was heard alongside the surprised and panicked cries of people nearby, some turning to watch, others fleeing to safety. The man stumbled past her, eventually hitting the ground and rolling once, a void of blood covering his shirt at his side as he gripped the wound, curling up and groaning in pain. Arian had reached to the holster on her right with her left hand, firing underarm and taking the man out quite sufficiently, but given he got some medical attention from a healer he'd survive the wound, she wasn't willing to kill these men because of a disagreement, but she wouldn't be pushed around either,
"I'll warn you only once boys.. Back off.. You're making a bad choice, it isn't worth your lives.." She stated, drawing in a breath from the cigarette and puffing it out whilst grabbing her other gun, drawing it slowly and keeping her eyes on the ones in her field of vision, though the chuckling of the men indicated they weren't so concerned. Even with the sight of one of their friends being taken down so simply. Likely it would only make them more eager to teach her a lesson.
This was probably going to attract the guards, how problematic..

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Tymil?" The prince's bodyguard Urbon asked quietly.

"Of course I'm not sure, but what's the use of worrying about what is not certain?" Tymil smiled at the lean, lithe man walking beside him. "If there is any trouble, which I highly doubt there will be, well then, we can both take care of ourselv--"

"Fight! There's a fight at the Crimson Cockerel!"

"I hear it's a woman. This I've got to see."

Tymil's ears practically perked up at the words of the boys who were running past him. Without hesitation, he proceeded to follow them.

"Highness, wait," Urbon began. But he was cut off by the prince grabbing his arm.

"Come, Urbon. This seems to be an interesting development, and besides, someone will need to be there in case anything goes wrong. I'll be able to oversee the city guard at the very least, should they come in time to stop anything."

Hand on his sword-hilt, Urbon frowned but followed after Prince Tymil, keeping close.

It was not long until they reached the bar. A sizable crowed had already gathered to watch. At the same time, there was an equally large number of people running away from the scene. Tymil and Urbon managed to shoulder their way through the crowd to the front, in time to see a woman confronting more men than one should have to handle alone. On the ground was a man curled up, his face contorted in agony as blood soaked the earth beneath him.

Tymil quickly took stock of the scene, then muttered to Urbon, "What do you think?"

"I say we learn of the nature of this situation and then take action, whatever it is that is required."

Tymil nodded, then stepped forward, keeping his trusty sword sheathed, but a grip on the hilt nonetheless. "Hold," he called out, even as he assessed the men and the woman. The men were unarmed, but the woman held a firearm in her hand. "What is the meaning of this disturbance? You," he added, addressing the woman, "why have you shot this man?"

A gathering crowd.. Damnit.. She couldn't use her guns here.. What kinds of idiots were these people?? Didnt they know how dangerous guns were? She looked left and right, watching the men shift. They may have looked unarmed but fools like these always carried some kind of weapon, almost always at least. However when a man spoke from the crowd her attention was diverted, and she wanted to respond, opening her mouth, only to be interrupted as one of the men from behind yelled,
"Get'er!"

The woman's eyes went a little wider but with a swift move she holstered both the revolvers again, ducking down and turning swiftly just as one of the rushing men ran past her, an attempt to rake his arm across the back of her head foiled, however he was surpised to see her arm draped across the front of his chest, pulling him back suddenly, the force on his upper body pulling him off his feet and he dangled up in the air for a moment, almost instantly before he flipped over once, turning mid-air and crashing to the floor.
There was strength in her arms, there was no doubt of that, though it hadn't helped the man that he wasn't trained to deal with some-one who actually fought for a living. The second man had come swiftly after, thrusting his fist toward her gut and was half successful, the woman had put her hands in front of her to catch the fist in her palms, though he'd managed to hit her enough to make her defensively curled forward, using that moment to raise his arm and try to bring it down on her shoulder, however she fluidly slipped out from under the blow, this throwing him off balance, directly toward a raised knee that cracked into his skull, sending him tumbling back and holding his face, moaning in agony at the loss of several teeth and no doubt a broken nose, almost flawless placement of the blow.

The man open his hands form his face for a moment to inspect the blood, only to watch as the woman stepped toward him once, turning around swiftly and delivering a second low, a straight kick, into his skull, again, causing him to crash to the ground, out cold. The woman stood straight, looking over her shoulder again at the remaining three.

It was an eerie still as she drew a breath from the cigarette still planted firmly between her lips, a long, slow stream of it escaping from her nostrils, almost like an enraged bull as she coldly stared. Wait, three?
Sh*t! The blindside..! It ran through her mind quickly as she looked in the opposite direction, though felt the crack of the mans fist to the side of her temple, forcing her to hit the ground, spitting out the cigarette in the process. It seemed a perfect opportunity for the leaders companion,and the one who had punched her to try for it again, both moving in, but the woman refused to be beat, not by some random street punks like these.

They didn't have time to react, again she'd swiftly drawn out her guns, quickly getting to her knee and aimed across her arms at the two approaching men, pointed upwards so that through-and-throughs would go over the crowd.. Unfortunately for these men however.. The pulling of the trigger for the two was the last they'd see, the silver ringing thunder of her shots being heard as she emptied two rounds alternatively into the skulls of the approaching men, such a short distance was an easy shot. They fell, the backs of their skulls torn away, the remains sprade across nearby walls and barrels.

She pushed herself to a stand, looking at the last of the lackeys whom immediately turned and fled whilst she raised her gun toward him,t he tip still smoking faintly, however his retreat marked no death on his part. No gunshot, but again it seemed she'd lost sight of her target as the leader got to her left side, dagger in hand and raised, plunging ti down toward her, however almost out of instinct she'd raised her left arm, feeling the bite as the knife sunk in, a small spray as the tip burst from the other side, marring her face with her own blood but she aimed with her free hand, pressing the muzzle up against the mans chin and, with no hesitation, no remorse, not even a whisper or demand for surrender, one final pull of the trigger and the leader fell back.

She was still for a moment, but her grip on the gun in her left hand was lost, the weapon clattering tot he ground, the right following suit as she fell back on her rear.
Day.. Officially.. Ruined.. she though to herself, gritting her teeth as she grasped the handle of the dirk still embedded in her left arm. only crying out in frustration as she ripped it out, but with a new problem.. Now the wound was bleeding profusely, Maybe I shoulda left it in.. Damnit.. Damnit-damnit-damnit..!

The crowd fell silent as the woman shot the brains out of the remaining men. Then some began to yell, others screamed, and in no time there was a full-out panic to get away.

"She killed 'em!"

"She's crazy!"

"Outta my way!"

It was a wonder that Tymil and Urbon even managed to keep their footing in the crowd's stampede to escape. Several shots rang out, and Tymil at first thought that it was the woman... But no, instead it was the city guard, finally arrived. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop the fight, or save the lives of the men who had been felled.

"Let us through! Calm down!" The armored men shouted above the panic of the crowd, shoving their way through and brandishing their own firearms when necessary. In this way they managed to get to the woman and quickly surrounded her, guns pointed at her head.

"You are hereby under arrest for causing a disturbance in the city and murdering these men," a guard called out. "Surrender peacefully or we will shoot."

"You slowpokes sure took your sweet-ass time.." the woman muttered with a sigh, clamping her hand over the wound in her left arm, not that it was doing much good. The blood was seeping between the fingers of her gloves, dripping to the ground in front of her. She hardly looked in a position to refuse being arrested, but she wasn't going to plea guilty for outright murder. This was self-defense, if cold and ruthless, but they attacked her, they had every chance to back away if they wanted to.

The woman slowly lowered her head, staring at her fallen guns for the time being, if they wanted to arrest her, then fine. She'd deal with it as it happened, if she got too flustered she'd just lose more blood more quickly. Her gaze went to the feet of the soldiers put forward to grab her, the men grasping her under-arm and pulling her to her feet, binding her wrists, though one was kind enough to give her a cloth since she could still put her hand over the wound,
"Dont forget my guns.." She added almost nonchalantly, almost conveying the very thought that she was indeed crazy, "And my bag.." Arian added, staring at Tymil and Urbon as she passed, the cold blue eyes examining the one whom had asked what was happening. She immediately put her foot down to stop herself and the two holding her, much to their own surprise she was stopping them pushing her forward,
"To answer your question. Defending myself.." She then looked toward her escorts, "Sorry.. I don't like unfinished business, we can go now."

"What do you mean, you haven't gotten her a doctor?"

The captain of the city guard stood at the entrance to the city prisons and blinked under Prince Tymil's chilly stare. "Well, Your Highness, she has been treated by our medic... But she is a criminal, and--"

"Criminal nothing. All men-and women-have a right to at least face judgment in full health." Tymil turned to face Urbon. "We're moving the woman to the palace prison. And getting her treated by a proper doctor."

"Wait, Highness!" The captain of the guard protested. "She's dangerous. Are you sure moving her is a wise idea?"

"You took away her guns, correct?"

"Yes, Majesty."

"And she IS wounded, isn't she?"

"That's true, but..."

Tymil lightly touched the sword he wore sheathed at his hip. "Are you implying that I can not take care of myself should a situation arise?"

Behind Tymil, Urbon folded his muscled arms and lowered his chin to glare.

The captain of the guard paled slightly. Then he nodded. "She will be moved at the nearest opportunity."

The prince shook his head. "I would prefer she be moved sooner than later, Captain. As in, now."

"As you command, Majesty... Rok, and Hombar! Prepare the female prisoner to be moved to the palace prisons. And be careful," he added with a glance at Tymil. "Remember she was stabbed in the arm."

The woman, having been transported to the local jail, was leaning against the far wall of her cell, a hand still tightly wrapped around her arm, although some basic bandaging had been applied it wasn't going to be enough, a thigh patch of red had made its way to the underside and was softly dripping tot he cell floor as she leaned in against the corner, contemplating this situation. Such old fashioned places weren't known for their well-treatment of prisoners, medical care was surely out the window after they'd patched you up once..
This wasn't how she'd imagined it ending, her whole search lost to one moment of poor judgment and bad temper on her part. Wells he supposed sooner or later it would have ended as a result of her actions or words.. But she would have preferred going down fighting to this..

The sound of the prison door being unlocked made her look up, though she didn't really register their commands, or whatever they were saying, her mind a little lost, or perhaps she was getting drowsy from the loss of blood. However when they approached and got her to her feet she didnt struggle, simply walking along with their aid, her eyes aimed down towards the ground. even as she was taken back out into the sunlight for a moment she continued to stair at her injured arm, watching the blood change path, a long line making its way to her and and dropping. Each one starting to feel more unfamiliar until she was sure she wasn't even looking at her own hands.
The hands of her captors were no longer holding her arms, but rather supporting one side, the other holding a wound in her belly, whispered words of confidence, unusual armor adorned her body, and pain everywhere.. She could remember that so well.

"We're not sure what happened my lord." A voice broke the fog of her mind, "She's uninjured, but as we were transporting her she fell unconscious. The doctor has seen to her arm and given her a clean bill of health as far as he can tell, says the fainting was just from bloodloss." The same voice added. Arian slowly opened her eyes, looking up at the walls of the new cell. So what now..? A royal prison instead? What was the difference really..? Well the pain in her arm was certainly different.. Or rather not so present as she sat up slowly, staring at where a wound used to be. There wasn't even any blood or dried remains of it at least. The wonders of Magic.. That was one old fashioned thing she didn't dislike. Cue the new problem. Now she'd be perfectly fine but still a prisoner..

She began to look for the voice, from what she could understand it was probably some guard reporting to some noble, calling them Lord.. How absolutely droll.. Another old fashioned thing she didn't care for, she simply pushed herself to a stand though slowly, still a little dizzy, however made her was tot he prison bars to knock them once with her arm,
"Hey.. How 'bout y'all get on over here an' tell me how long I'm gonna be spendin' in this hole, eh..?"

"Thank you," Tymil addressed the guards. "You may go now."

The guards snapped to attention and left. As the woman spoke to the prince, Urbon stiffened.

"You will address His Royal Majesty with the proper respect!"

"No, Urbon," the prince placated his companion. "It is all right. She probably does not know who I am, and she doesn't know where she is besides."

Tymil turned back to the woman, smiling at her in a manner meant to be reassuring. "Do not worry; you are in the castle prison, where you have been cared for by our doctor. Unfortunately, you must remain here until we get that situation at the bar in town sorted out. Perhaps even afterwards, if the results of the investigation are not in your favor."

He drew a stool up and sank down to sit on it, loosely leaning his arms on his thighs. "First, shall we get your version of the story? We are in the process of gathering witnesses right now... Oh, and just so you know, everything we're saying now is being recorded by a scribe."

Tymil nodded at a man sitting on another stool a little distance away; the man ceased moving his quill across a sheet of parchment, but did not look up.

The woman looked at the bodyguard that had been identified as Urbon, snorting slightly, she had plenty she could say in regards to that, but decided to ignore him, backing off from the bars and sitting on the edge of the bed. When the prince looked in her direction she automatically looked down, though blinked, shaking her head as she tried to figure out why she'd done that, but it seemed beyond her mind for now. Instead she got comfortable, looking up again,
"What's it matter? I'm an outsider, I killed several men, the evidence is pretty damn clear." She replied, shrugging to herself, resigned to the fact that she'd be jailed for a while yet.

His relaxed manner of sitting down on the stool so close was perhaps a foolish aciton, atleast in her books she'd consider it. However there was also the possibility that he knew she wouldn't do anything to him. That she had indeed been defending herself. Though she chuckled again,
"And you think I can trust your scribe to write the truth or will he just take my words and twist them..? Tell him to scrap it." She waved her hand in the direction of the man as if dismissing him herself, "Besides your highness.. You saw it for yourself, they attacked first, had to defend myself. The idiot shoulda learned to keep his distance when we were in the bar, slamming his head against the bar sure as hell didn't knock any sense into'em.."

The gunslinger fell back onto the makeshift bed int he cell,
"Theres nothin' more to it.. One idiot gets too proud, drags his buddies in, and they challenge some-one they know nothin' about." She sat up again, but then stood and grabbed one of the bars, leaning down to be on eye level with the prince, "End result's what you saw there. I dont take pride in killin' but I wont be shoved around by some lowlife scum.. When yer stupid enough to take on some-one who kills fer a livin', you wind up dead."

The scribe continued to write even as the woman waved her hand in his direction dismissively... It was clear that he would not take orders from her, or anyone but the prince. Tymil himself shrugged and kept his courteous smile in place.

"Actually, I didn't see everything. Which is why we need more reliable witnesses than only myself and Urbon--"

"Your Highness! We have a witness, the barmaid," another voice cut in from the doorway to the prison. Tymil turned and saw a young, nervous-looking woman being escorted in by a guard.

The scribe made a note.

"Thank you for coming here," the prince addressed the maid. She bobbed a curtsy in reply. "First off, can you identify this woman?" He gestured towards the prisoner.

The barmaid nodded. "Y-yes, sir, I mean, Majesty. That's the woman who came into my father's bar and got into that... that fight outside..."

Tymil nodded. "Can you tell us exactly what happened?"

The barmaid glanced at the woman nervously. "Yes Majesty, a little. Uh, she came into the bar, ordered a drink and a cigarette... One of those men came up and started bothering her. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she didn't like that, Majesty. Sh-she slammed his head into the bar. Then he left, and she did too not long after that. I don't know what happened then, Highness, 'xcept I heard shooting outside... I've heard the rumors though."

She gulped and fell silent.

"What rumors?" Tymil asked.

"Well," the barmaid said, inhaling anxiously, with another glance at the woman behind bars. "They say she's a right killer, she is. Say those men were out to get her, and she didn't just beat them into running. Shot them dead, she did. I don't know for sure, Highness, I was minding the bar... But that's what I've been told."

"Thank you. You may leave now... Make sure you stay with her until she gets out to the city, don't want her getting lost on the castle grounds," Prince Tymil instructed the guard standing behind the young woman. The guard nodded and left with the barmaid.

Several more witnesses were brought in after that, all with more or less the same story. As the last witness left, Tymil turned back to face the woman gunslinger, a distantly contemplative look on his face.

"Well, the testimonies all about add up. Slaying in self-defense. While we can rule out murder-plain-and-simple, it remains that, well, your reaction in the situation was fairly drastic. So the question remains as to what exactly we should do with you now."

"Well that's a shocker," Arian smirked, raising a curious eyebrow, "A Prince who doesn't consider himself reliable..?" She asked, though it was mostly rhetorical as she backed away from the bars, her arms swinging at her side once with each step before she turned her back, however the talk of a witness mad her turn again to look back as the maid first came. Wells he certainly did speak the truth. Being a killer didn't bother Arian one bit.. Not even as that odd pang of guilt in her gut tried to strike at her but she simply ignored it.

As the last witness left Arian had eventually sat down again, staring over at Tymil as he addressed her once again. She shifted her jaw a little. Fairly drastic.. It made her snort slightly as she shook her head to herself, pulling up a knee to rest her arm on as she looked at the far wall for a while, head leaned slightly forward as she though to herself but shook her head again and looked at him one more,
"Witnesses, scribes.. It's all too easy to pass off, ignore and manipulate. A proper judge will look at me, see an outsider, hear I killed a bunch of your good citizens, and that is how Arian the Raven met her end. Executed on charges of murder." She spoke her own name almost as if it were a joke to her, rolling her shoulder back for a moment,
"Stop kidding yourself with this, Prince. Unless you pull strings you're making this longer and more painful than it has to be, dear gods I'd prefer I just bled out.." She chuckled then, turning to look at Tymil again, "Or you could do me a favor, get in here and run me through, hell I'll even testify in the underworld that I tried to kill you, sound good?" She suggested this but mostly in a mocking tone before she stood,
"Doesn't matter to me, I really don't care, but if you try to keep me alive and imprisoned..?" Arian stared at Tymil a little harder, "I will break out, I will kill every idiot who gets in my way or I will die trying, Prince. Imprisonment and enslavement aren't my thing. Its about the only thing in common with me and that nickname, I'll fly free no matter what anyone says."

She smirked then,
"If you really need to mull it over though, at least get me my cigarettes and a lighter. If it comes to execution I want a smoke before I g..-oh." Arian stepped back a moment, sitting down, a hand going to her head, "Ugh.. Dizzy.. How long did those damn idiots let me bleed out anyhow..?" She mumbled to herself, shaking her head then, "What a day.."

Tymil continued to look at the woman with a cool expression on his face. She seemed pretty certain about her future, no matter what... either be killed for murder, or kill for freedom. He couldn't help but be impressed by her sheer determination to be her own, free self... and a little surprised... no, sad... or something in-between those emotions, by her complete apathy as to whatever else happened to her. He had seen worse cases than hers, but then again, it looked like she had seen far more than him altogether.

"Pull strings... pull strings," he murmured almost to himself, stroking his chin meditatively.

An idea began to form in his head.

Urbon saw what was happening on his liege's face and frowned.

"Highness, I know you are not a rash man, but still, please consider what has happened before you make any decisions..."

"What do you think I'm doing right now, Urbon?" Tymil smiled at his bodyguard, then shrugged at the woman's--Arian, was it?--request for a smoke.

"If you wish it, as it's likely the only luxury you'll get until a final decision is made. I'll have a case of cigarettes and a lighter sent down shortly... Though you won't be able to keep the lighter, you understa--Hey!" He called out abruptly as she sat down woozily. "Are you all right?"

He called out the door, "Someone bring a drink of something strong!" Turning back, he said to Arian, "If you feel up to it, I think I have a proposition that will suit both of our goals, in a sense. Would you like to hear it?"

Arian managed to gather herself after a moment, looking in the Prince's direction, why was he even concerned? If at all, She didn't respond for a moment, trying to mull it over her head, though she heard his voice again in her mind, an echo.. No not his voice.. She shook her head a second, trying to get her senses together, but the world seemed to change again,
Are you alright..? She heard to her left, a faceless man placing his hand on her shoulder, other hand offered to her, but before she could reach for it the image vanished, I'll always be here
Arian looked at the prince again, a little bewildered,
"Eh.. yeah I'm fine, sorry.. Just realized I may need a little more iron in my diet.."

The woman shifted back on the prison bed so her back was against the wall once more, though her attention returned to Tymil. A glimmer of confusion crossed her face once again, though she smirked then at the word proposal, looking across to the other wall,
"Look, you're cute, prince, but I'm not that kinda girl.." She chuckled, though turned her head to look at him and Urbon once again, "Speak your piece then.. Its probably a whole lot better than this." She was probably right about this too as she swung her legs around the end of the bed so she was turned toward the prince again, placing her hand on her knee, the other arm's elbow upon the other as she leaned forward, curious as to what the prince had to say. She couldn't deny that it might be something interesting, he'd proven very interesting himself.

Tymil couldn't help grinning and shaking his head at the gunslinger's assumption of his proposition. "Neither am I that sort of man. My proposition is this. There is a Tourney to be held soon in hopes of recruiting a suitable bodyguard for myself; there are increased threats from Lalardia--" he named the rival neighboring country.

"--and furthermore, the morale of the country is down overall, so I am told. The Tourney would serve to relieve both situations. Of course, the Tourney would be a strenuous process involving much more than simple displays of strength and prowess in fighting."

Urbon looked on as his prince continued to speak, his eyes flicking back and forth between him and Arian.

"There was a Tourney seven years back, in fact, at the end of which Urbon was hired on as my personal bodyguard. I trust him with my life, so you see that it is no light consideration."

Tymil paused as a servant entered just then, bearing a goblet filled with brandy. She was about to hand it through the bars, but Urbon shook his head, took the goblet and handed it through to Arian himself. It was clear through this alone that he did not trust her farther than he could throw her.

"So you see," the prince continued as the servant withdrew, "that may very well be your only chance out of this mess. I understand that it was an unfortunate situation, one which you did not instigate. But my word alone is not enough, and even the word of a primary witness may not be able to stand against what you've done... The Tourney may be your only chance of freedom and life. Would you want to participate in it?"

Arian's blood began flowing at the sound of the word Tourney a smirk on her face as she looked over at Tymil, but honestly found herself stumped at how a tournament would require more than skill and strength, nonetheless, when the prince mentioned Urbon's victory at the last she only chuckled. She was ever watchful as the bodyguard took the goblet and offered it, which she promptly took, of course, but then gazed over at the Prince,
"I can see why you'd be desperate for a new bodyguard, for a moment there I was convinced he was a servant!" She chuckled again, taking a sip before shrugging to herself, "He certainly seems to think he can do a better job." the woman mocked, regarding him taking the goblet from the servant.

She made her way to the bunk again, sitting down on it, the Prince had mentioned Lalardia. Well wasn't that just typical? They were the type of kingdom that weren't happy till they'd ticked off everyone on their borders,
"A tournament, huh..?" She couldn't help but grin, shaking her head, "What the hell.. Why not? It'll be fun and I get to save my skin, but are you sure you want to risk having some-one like me as a bodyguard? Even your buddy there seems to have the right idea.." Arian stated the last sentence in a mocking tone, she could tell he didn't trust her, that wasn't hard to figure out, but not many people trusted her anyway, it didn't bother her.

She drank the rest of the brandy, sighing as the liquid warmed her up, though she knew it wouldn't be enough,
"Well whatever your highness thinks best I suppose, who am I to judge the greater wisdom? I still want my cigarettes though." Arian chuckled a little, tossing the empty goblet over near the bars, "And no-one better screw with my guns, those things are my livelihood,"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Grand Tourney!" Shouted Hale Grimburg from where he stood on a balcony overlooking the castle training-grounds-turned-fighting-arena. At his words, hundreds of lords, ladies, and common citizens roared, eager for the entertainment of fighting.

"Before we begin, a few words from our own Royal Prince, Tymil!"

Tymil stood from his seat and proclaimed, "Thank you everyone for coming to the Grand Tourney. As you know, with tension from Lalardia growing--"

Boos and hisses greeted this statement. It was apparently unanimous that Lalardia was not popular right now.

"--I am in need of an additional bodyguard. This Tourney is to find that one individual who will be suitable and worthy to guard me... And also to give you all a bit of entertainment at that," he added with a slight smile. Cheering told him that the audience agreed.

"May the best man--or woman--win!" he finished before sitting back down in his throne. The crowd went wild in anticipation. It was a few minutes before Hale Grimburg could calm it down.

"Thank you, thank you for your enthusiasm! I can tell you right now that we're all going to be in for a real treat this month as the Tourney runs! We have fourteen contenders who made the list, and by the King himself, the fights are going to be anything but mundane!

"Our fighters are in the contenders' barracks getting ready, but they should be out in the arena in a few moments. Let's see, first up in the ring..." He glanced down at a list in his hand.

"Raul Smithammer and Engle Strongsword!"

Arian was in the preparation area with the other candidates as she heard the loud yelling from outside, the calling of the names for the first match, they made her snort a little, Smithammer and Strongsword. The two men who were chosen to begin looking at her as though offended, though she only gave them a wry smile in return. One looked young, the armor making up for the bulk of his body, the other had a few battlescars, but they were little more than cuts and nicks, perhaps demonstrating how poor at his profession he actually was.
From the looks of the armor each wore, the young man would be lightweight, a quick swordsman, whilst Raul's armor was half plate, protecting his left side with his right arm and leg exposed but what caught Arian's attention was the back of the left leg behind the armored knee-guard, solid bandaging around the leg. A weak knee, it was going to be this that decided the fight.

The woman looked among the other candidates with some amusement, there were various interesting individuals here, but most of them too colorful to do the job as successfully as they should. One rich boy, probably a nobles son looking to get in a good position with the royal court, and another man whose face was covered with a mask. An odd gimmick, but she wouldnt contest that hitting it directly would cause the fool some pain.
Alot of them were looking her way, however, they'd gone through all the induction rituals and trials and were aware of one another, but this woman had been slotted in completely out of the blue. Perhaps it hurt their pride, perhaps they were just curious how a woman was expected to beat them. Especially one that wasn't even wearing armor or a wielding a weapon. She'd opted out of both for simple enough reasons. Armor would slow her and a weapon in her hands would have spelled possible fatalities, best just to beat them senseless.
Or maybe they even knew the nature of her being here, she wouldn't be surprised..

She reached into her pocket, grasping the pack of cigarettes that had been returned to her before standing on the bench she'd been sitting on, she placed the tip of a cigarette by one of the braziers, lighting the end before she sat down and popped the cigarette in between her lips with a smirk still openly plastered on her face. This was going to be amusing to say the least.

"What a battle, what a BATTLE!" Hale Grimburg roared as Engle Strongsword was carried out of the arena on a stretcher. "Wouldn't you agree, my friends?"

Eager cheering resounded back at him, along with some boos from those who had been supporting Strongsword.

"And now, for our next fighters... Urm Greatbow and Opli Windsweeper!"

"...and our next fighters, Brom Swiftpole and Imbel Juggernaut!"

The list of fighters went on and on, with every battle ending with one victorious and one defeated. Once there was a draw that was to be settled the next day. With every defeat there was some cheering and some hissing from the crowd. As the sun dropped lower in the sky, Hale Grimburg at last inhaled to bellow out the name that everyone had been waiting to hear.

"Finally, the fight you've all been waiting for... Herg Snakewhip and Arian the Raven!"

Whispers and calling raced around the arena crowd.

"Is that her?"

"That's the woman!"

"The one who killed them?"

"I heard she was pardoned."

"I heard this is how she's to be punished."

"She'll be dead in five minutes."

"This is going to be a good fight."

Differing opinions from all came to light, but one thing was obvious, that this truly WAS the battle that the crowd had been waiting for.

Herg Snakewhip..? Arian had heard some odd names during this tournament but sure she was faced with the mos ridiculous one of all. Not to mention her opponent, he was almost creepy, snakelike in his own, way, lanky body, light armor and tight clothes, the parodical sense of it came full circle when she saw the whip holstered at his side.

She had seen some interesting foes today but this was definitely on the top of her weird list. The woman fighter waited for him to get into the arena first, making her way in soon after. Her eyes shifted for a moment to focus on one of his hands, the one he seemed he would not be using with the whip. the glove was different, silver lines wrapping around it, a crystal placed within its palm. His thumb seemed to be rubbing it as though treasuring it.

The crowd seemed to be silently watching the two with anticipation as they eyed each other up. It was no less than a snake-strike that caught Arian by surprise as he grasped the whip, pulling it overhead and cracked it toward her, though she shifted to the side, the weapon snapping past her, yet still slicing through several strands of hair.
Again a little more of this foe was revealed to her, he was rather quick, and as the weapon passed her she noticed the small, crystal like scales fashioned onto the leather, almost too difficult to see. No wonder it cut her hair.
With two more whip-snaps the man got steadily closer, Arian weaving out of the way of both strikes. Mos twould have regretted the lack of armor. Arian knew she would have regretted wearing it. It would have slowed her down too much until she was an easy target.
A third strike however came to an abrupt end as Arian grasped the whip, holding it near the end and twisting it around her gloved hand once. She could feel the sharp crystals digging in through the glove, even piercing flesh but with a quick step she twisted it again, getting a secure grip.

She didn't seem to mind as blood began to seep through the glove along the whip that the man struggled to free, yanking on it like a wild animal to try and cut her hand deeper, but the crystal was prohibited form deeper entry by the thickness of her glove.
His pulling stopped abruptly as Arian leaned back and pulled him then, the man practically stumbling forward, closing the gap between them. Her other fist was poised to strike, drawn back and thrust forward, only to watch with a grimace as the man raised his spare hand, the glove's crystal glowing before releasing a collective amount of magic, the energy gathering between them as he grinned.

The ensuing blast, a forceful push of magic, sent Arian rolling across the ground where she hit the barricade and seemed to stop, from going limp. There was a collective gasp at the dirty trick, or perhaps at the impact, the way it looked, even sounded up close. It would have been thought she was dead were it not, after a breath like a momentary calm, for her shifting, getting to her feet whilst using the barricade to help her up. Her right shoulder was scuffed, fresh blood seeming through the grazed wound, the same could be said for her other arms elbow. Superficial damage at best, not comparing to the bruised feeling running through her body. That was gonna hurt in the morning..

She closed her injured hand into a fist, blood gathering at the knuckles before she practically burst form her spot in a charge toward the man. His response was to lower to a knee and charge another shot, blasting toward Arian, but missing narrowly as she stepped to the side swiftly. A second firing and she practically disappeared form her spot, vaulting in the opposite direction, and again, another blast scorching past her as the distance was closed again.
As they were close once again the man had attempted to aim the glove at her once more, only to be met by failure as a rising boot caught him under the chin. He seemed to glide up into the air a few feet, only to have Arian yank him down by the gloved hand, flipping him overhead to land him on the flat of his back, her boot coming down on his gloved hand.

The yell of pain could be heard quite clearly tot he top of the stadium as the crystal was not only shattered but crushed into his hand, not to mention several necessary bones being shattered with the force of it.But she simply wasn't done, giving him little time to recover as she pulled him up only to connect a fist with his jaw. His arms flailed, but one was grabbed by Arian as she pulled him up close again, thrusting a knee into the lower part of his torso were the folds of armor were weakest, an almighty heave as the wind was pushed out of him.
A thrust of the palm to his jaw sent him reeling again, stumbling back before Arian leaped into the air, spinning and unleashing a heavy kick to his skull once more.

Herg twisted around, stumbling about blindly before hitting the ground. Though he twitched and groaned, he stayed down, even as Arian went over to the beaten body and placed her foot upon its back, leaning on the raised knee.
She absentmindedly reached into her pocket and grabbed a cigarette, placing it between her lips with a smirk,
"Scratch one freak.."

Nothing but a wave of noise reigned in the arena. Even Hale Grimburg could not seem to wrench his eyes from where Arian stood over Snakewhip's body, smirking with that cigarette between her lips. Finally, however, at a look from Urbon, he visibly shook himself and shouted out, "Ladies and gentlemen, how about we all give it up for our last winner of the day! Arian the Raven!"

Even though that was what the crowd was already doing, even though it was almost impossible to hear him, even though it would otherwise seem impossible that the crowd could get any louder... it did.

After a few moments of letting the women and men in the crowd wear their lungs and vocal cords out, Tymil stood from where he sat on his throne, and a respectful silence fell.

"We have certainly been treated to many great spectacles today," he spoke up, raising his voice only enough so that everyone could hear him. "And this concludes the last of them. The contenders to be my bodyguard will be going through their own tests this week, but at the end of the week, another test of fighting skills will be held in this very same arena. I hope that you all find it just as impressive as you did today."

A bell rang just then, and the first day of the Tourney was over.

Arian turned from the body, walking idly back towards the ready room, however stopped for a moment, bending low to pick up the whip that the man had lost during the fight and smirked, coiling it up as she continued to walk out. And why the heck not? She beat that guy and his dirty little trick. Bringing hidden magic to a duel, a sad and underhanded tactic for some who showed some promise with his weapon of choice, too bad now. The sound of the bell caught her attention for a moment as she paused in her stride to listen to it, but shook her head and carried on.

Once back down in the preparation area she immediately refused treatment from the medic, instead taking some clean cloth to rip into three segments and simply wrap over the grazes, the third being long enough to wrap around her injured hand several times before she pulled her glove back on, if there was an impression being made, it was that she didnt want help or to be bothered. The other victors would stare at her, but given she'd taken care of her opponent with such speed and force it made even them nervous about getting on her bad side.

Arian was already contemplating the kind of test they would prepare for her as she used a nearby torch to light her cigarette again. Her mind went back for a moment, however, the the bell. Something about it felt familiar.. She'd found herself suffering these feelings a lot lately. Most of the time she could shrug it off, but that one sound disturbed her.. As though there was something important about it she had forgotten..

The two guards standing at the door of the contenders' barracks suddenly snapped to attention. One called out, "His Royal Highness Tymil is coming down!"

The remaining fighters in the running to become the prince's new bodyguard all stopped what they were doing to turn to face the doorway, where Tymil was just descending the stairs, Urbon close behind him.

"I wanted to congratulate you all for your outstanding performances in battle today," he told the fighters in his usual calm voice. "I am confident in all of your abilities and determination to guard me. Though you all have gone through some preliminary testing in order to be here today, I would advise that you rest well tonight. Tomorrow will begin a new round of tests for you."

Tymil passed around the room, speaking briefly to each would-be bodyguard. When he at last reached the spot where Arian sat, he looked at the bandaging job she had done on herself. "How are your wounds? You would not let anyone else treat you, I gather?"

Looking around the barracks, which were rather lacking in facilities, he added, "Though I suspect you could more than handle this space, I can assure you that you will not have to for long. This evening you and the rest of your... 'compatriots' will be moved to a compound on the outskirts of the city. You will still be under heavy guard, but you will be free to move about as you please. Training grounds and other commodities will be available to you. I think," he added with a small smile, "that you will find it much more comfortable than your old prison cell."

Arian didn't respond like the others, the suck ups, the patriots, no salute from her or a snap to response. This bought her further glares from those who noticed as she simply drew in a breath from the cigarette and puffed it out calmly whilst Tymil talked. This wasn't her kingdom and she was only here because it was the only deal worth a damn. It save dher killing her way out or being executed. When the prince eventually got around to her she looked toward him, then for a moment at the visible bandaging on her arms before looking ahead of herself with a shrug,
"I've been self sufficient for a long time, I'm not about to stop. And I don't like people touching me. Or mages for that matter." She stopped for a moment and chuckled then, shrugging to herself, "There's a lot of things I don't like, but its not like I can get rid of it all."

She looked toward the prince again for a moment when he mentioned they'd be moved to another compound later, this just prompted another shrug as she blew smoke to the side calmly,
"Whatever works, so long as these fools keep their distance I really don't care." She took the cigarette from her lips and put it out on the bench she was sat on, putting the half finished cigarette on the table behind her, "You'd just better be taking care of my guns. They're all I have that's worth a damn to me, you got it?" She instructed, "If I'm the one guarding you, they need to be in good condition,"

She smirked as she could see one of the would-be bodyguards listening in, he looked angry about something, perhaps that she was showing the prince no respect and practically telling him what to do, not the kind of behaviour expected of a bodyguard. She found this kind of mindset amusing, but wondered if they really knew what it meant to be guarding some-one like a prince. It wasn't just a position of honor or a job where you were a highly trained maid. A real bodyguard knew when to argue with their charge and when to back them all the way. Protecting them because its their job, but this also meant that sometimes serving them meant disobeying orders to perform that job correctly.
Though she had to admit loyalty helped and so did the patriotism these guys were practically sweating in the presence of his highness. These things simply didn't strike Arian as important.

Tymil nodded, his composed mask still in place. "Of course your guns are being kept safe. I have seen to it myself."

Just then, a new guard came, one meant to escort the would-be bodyguards to the compound just outside of the city. One by one, the contenders bowed to Prince Tymil before making their way out of the door. He nodded cordially to each of them in turn, leaving himself once the last one had made his exit.

It was a few days later that Tymil made his first appearance at the compound. Several tests had already taken place, and he had decided, with Urbon by his side, to see how the bodyguard contenders were holding up. He sat with them as they ate lunch at noontime, which was considered an honor.

"How are you all doing with your tests?" Tymil asked, glancing around the table as he cut into his steak.

"Easy, my liege!" One of the bodyguard contenders spoke up confidently. "Why, I would say that they could hardly have been counted as 'tests' at all. Is this all that will be thrown at us, or should I say, given to us on a platter? Then I consider myself more than fit to serve you, Prince Tymil!"

Some of the would-be bodyguards were nodding. Others simply continued eating, while a few looked disdainful of the first contender's spiel.

It was amongst the noise and hub-bub of the overzealous speaker and his agreeing counterparts that after a while it was clear Arian was not present. These people disliked her so much they barely even noticed, nor amongst their chatter could they hear the faint sound of keynotes being touched on a piano. The sound itself was coming from upstairs, down a hallway by two turns until it lead to an abandoned music room, mostly in disrepair, yet the piano was there, though a little dusty, and was still in working condition.

As Arian had finished testing the notes to see how well it was all working not to mention if anything was broken, she withdrew her hands, no longer gloved and the injured left now more properly bandaged, before placing them down softly on the grand instrument to play a song, a subtle, solemn piece. It traveled through the halls quietly at first, expressing as much a pained, lonely feeling as one could imagine to come forth from music.

It was one of those things that brought back vague memories for Arian, but she simply didn't know what they meant. Perhaps it was best she didn't remember for the sharp pain in her own heart it seemed to make every time, a feeling she rarely felt by any other method. But as much as she hated it, it was an addiction, the only thing she could cling onto in a world she considered so cruel and capricious, chaotic and underhanded in all of its workings, simply making her and so many others victims of its many grand designs.
It was perhaps this raw feeling that helped bring sorrowful life to the music.