[Mature] A Life Worth Living [Completed]

[Katarya Frost]

Katarya was furious. As he left the room, she spoke aloud: "What do I have to give?!" She exclaimed, turning to Ksenia, the poor soul who had to endure her righteousness. "How dare he?" She turned to the seamstress. "Why do men assume they have the right to step into the firing line, whenever things get difficult? I am more than capable enough when it comes to taking care of myself" Her face had a tone of 'thunder' to it. "The very last thing I will accept in this life is being shielded and coddles by a man!" then, more to herself ... "I'll show them all I'm not just some middle-class princess."

Taking a deep breath, Kat moved to take a seat. "Well, there they go; off plotting something without considering that either of us could be useful." She said to Ksenia. "You seem more than capable of standing up for yourself ... how's about we bypass the middle-man and you help me get back my book?" She said, with real conviction in her tone. "We can certainly show them not to underestimate girls who just happen not to wear daggers at their belts! There is more than one way to get a job done, and it doesn't have to involve elaborate schemes and hurting anyone." She thought for a moment. "I might just have a plan ... care to join forces and show that lot what we can do?" She asked.

Katarya's pride had been wounded, and she was now roping the young seamstress into the mix. This couldn't end badly ... could it?

[Ksenia]

“You’re not actually serious, are you?” Ksenia stopped gathering her needles and thread to fix Katarya with a look. “You’re talking about going to fetch a magic book - that I couldn’t see, ever - from the rubble of a house that you know was burned down by someone targeting you. Artemis and Marcy aren’t planning to hurt anyone who isn’t out to hurt them - or you - first.”



Ksenia set down her supplies on the table and separated them. “Men are generally expendable. There will almost always be another who thinks he is going to be your savior. Let them draw the ire of the fight so you can get away.” She cut the thread and threaded a needle. “Artemis seems less stupid than many I’ve seen, and frankly, I’m not convinced he’d save you at the expense of his own neck. He favors you, sure, but based on what I’ve heard, he’s had to fend for himself for a very long time.”



Ksenia frowned at Katarya. “Are you going to let me work on that dress or not?” She shooed the witch to the corner. “Get changed over there. I’m not going to look.” Ksenia turned back to the table. “I want to get done before they get back. Marcy’s in that mood...it’s scary. She gets that look in her eye and I feel the hair on my neck stand up, like a cold breeze passed by.”

[Katarya Frost]

At her words, she raised her brow in surprise. She was used to her own stubbornness and self-preservation that she hated having to rely on anyone else. But it seemed Ksenia was not interested in the venture ... which was probably wise.

At her words on Artemis: "You might be right, about Artemis. But you could also be wrong. Happens to the best of us." She tried to thin about how she felt about him; would she be willing to 'risk her own neck' for him?'. She decided that, if push came to shove, then ... yes! She would. "Artemis might surprise you, yet, Ksenia."

At the seamstress's instructions, Kat shrugged. "I hardly care if you look or not! All you'll see are some very unfashionable under garments! "Thank you for doing this."

She took took off her cloak so that Ksenia would have full access to the dress. "Well, it's more than understandable why you wouldn't be so inclined as to help me with the book ... but I need to get it back, that much is for sure. and I despise having to rely on men to do things I could do myself. I never want to be one of those 'damsel-in-distress, types." She thought for a moment, then sighed. "I guess I'll see what Artemis and Marcy have to say, when they return.

conversationally, Kat ventured a question. "May I ask: how did you get involved with all of this?" She asked. "I found myself in it due to a business deal, was it the same for you?

[Ksenia]

“A business deal of sorts, I guess.” Ksenia held the needle between her lips. “I came in the Goose to get a hot meal after I’d finished a mending job and Artemis spoke to me about the silk-” she gestured to the fabric, “once he figured out I didn’t have a steady place to work on it, he set me up with the room here.” Ksenia snipped a thread. “Turn around.”

“It’s nice to have one spot I can call mine, even if it’s only for the next few weeks. Don’t have to carry everything with me, I have a bed, and I get to work on something that will make more coin than just food for the next day or so.” Ksenia smiled up at Katarya. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to open a shop someday.” Katarya shifted her weight.

“Try not to move until I’m done, please.” Ksenia pinched a loose seam tighter and sewed it closed. “As for Artemis, who knows what his real motivations are. He’s got some plan - that much is clear from the way he spoke at the table.” She squinted at a seam. “I need to let this one out. Hold on.” Ksenia got up and took a small piece of soap from the table, then rubbed it along the seam. “And that one - there.” She studied the dress on Katarya’s form. “Now, I need you to take it off. I’ll make those looser so they don’t pull.”

She waited until the witch handed her the dress. “There’s more going on here at the Goose than just good food. I see people talking in corners and they stop if I get close. Marcy and Deb go into the back room to see Cook and come out looking determined, like they’ll run over anyone who gets in their way.”

Ksenia carefully popped the threads and pulled them out of the fabric. “It’s a little unnerving some times. I don’t know how to do much more than sew and read a little. I can’t do any magic. I’m not a fighter. And clearly, even my face-” she gestured to her cheek, “can be a liability. If their future plans don’t include me, well, at least I’ll still have coin in my pocket and knowledge of where to get a good meal.”

Ksenia tied off the thread and clipped it short. “That should be bette- NYX. Don’t you dare.” The flash of black had caught her eye as the raven had flown to the shelf that held her collection of buttons. A shiny metal one was pinched in the bird’s beak. “DROP IT.” The raven stared at the seamstress and cackled.

[Katarya Frost]

Kat did as she was told as Ksenia went to work; if a man had ordered her around like that ... well things might have gone differently. But she liked Ksenia; the girl had a strong will, and even if she wasn't as sharp-tongued as the young witch, she could certainly hold her own.

As Ksenia called out to Nyx, who had decided she was going to have a rummage through Ksenia's buttons, Kat smiled and held out her arm. "Come now, dearest." She said, and the bird promptly flew to her arm. Kat stroked the bird's chest, and glanced to Ksenia. "I doubt she would have taken anything. She's not actually a raven; she just has the body of one."

Kat took a seat. Her mind was still trying to figure out a plan to get back the Book, but every idea seemed fuitless when she had no idea where it was being kept, and by whom. So she turned her attention to Ksenia. "Are you Fellsguard born and bred?" She asked. "It's just that I've never seen you before, and a woman with your talents .. well, I think you more than deserve your own shop!"

There was a hint of sadness in her voice; she had been a businesswoman only a day or so ago. Now she had only a few copper pieces, a cloak, and a newly-mended, second hand dress. It was a bit of a step down.

[Ksenia]

“So if she’s not a bird, who - or what - is Nyx?” Ksenia stepped back confused. “That’s-just-spooky,” she said haltingly. Putting away some of the things she’d used, Ksenia pulled out a piece of fabric with embroidery on it.

“As for Fellsgard, not exactly.” Ksenia sat cross-legged on the floor across the room, facing Katarya. “Mam - my mother, she was. I don’t think she ever said where I was born.” She scoffed and jerked a stitch too hard, frowning at it. “All I know is Mam decided she was ‘destined for a grand romance’, made it to Verdant Row and got knocked up with yours truly by a ‘tall, dark, handsome’ Kerasoka elf.” She brushed her hair back behind her ears, revealing the pointed tips.

“After I came on the scene, he split, and Mam ran around trying to find her ‘grand romance’ with me in tow.” Ksenia squinted and lifted the fabric to her face, poking the needle from the underside until she found the spot she wanted. “She left me maybe five years or so ago. I started growing up and some of her men were starting to look at me too. Oh, she couldn’t have that, no.” She jabbed the needle back down into the fabric, hissing when she stabbed her finger. “Left me one day with her second, shabbier set of clothes and no explanation. I woke up and she was gone.”

Feeling her eyes start to warm, Ksenia sniffed. “Enough of my whinging though. What about you and your - well, witch-ness? How’d you get to be in Fellsgard?” She dropped her voice a bit. “I know what they think about magic here.”

[Katarya Frost]

Kat listened as Ksenia told her tale. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, regarding the woman's mother. "You must be quite strong and resourceful to have gotten so far with such a rough start."

She couldn't help but laugh at the 'witch-ness' question. "Magic is illegal in Fellsguard, and so I try and keep my head down as much as I can. But since I met Artemis, I have been getting stronger. He eyes went to Nyx, and she stroked her familiar's chest, gently. "Nyx is my familiar .. is a spirit called into this form, to help me with spells and such. She also makes an excellent scout and is able to convey to me important things ... like when there's danger about and such. In all honesty ,Nyx could be an old spirit, and know more about magic than me! But we're bound together."

Looking back to Ksenia, Kat gave a shrug. It looks like we both have a long road ahead of us. And please, try not to feel uncomfortable about what I am. The stories have witches all wrong ... well, some of them do. We're not bad people; we're just born this way."

[Ksenia]

Ksenia snorted. “I wouldn’t say I’ve gotten very far. I’m employed by a thief, and after this job is done, if he doesn’t keep me on, I’ll have to go back to trading mending for a spot to sleep and food to eat.” She looked down at her embroidery. “I hope he does.”

She ran a fingertip over the stitches, smoothing them. “Did Nyx choose to come to you? Or is she trapped in a raven body because of some spell and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?” She looked up at Katarya. “You being a witch, eh, I’ve been around them a few times. They’re people, that’s all. What scares me is what you could do.” She focused back on her embroidery, needle sliding through the fabric. “If you could call a spirit and keep it in a bird’s body, what else can you do?”

Ksenia kept stitching, not looking at Katarya. “You could heal, or you could hurt. Give, or take away. That’s the scary thing. You have power beyond what most men could do and yet, you’re still just a ‘normal’ person, with normal desires and feelings.” Ksenia’s foot twitched and she hitched it back under her. “Why wouldn’t you put that power to getting what you want? Even if it might affect someone else?" She sighed and turned the fabric in her hand. "It's like rich men with money - they use it to get what they want, and damn whoever gets in their way. Power is power, magic or otherwise."

[Katarya Frost]

Kat was happy to explain; after all most people on hearing that she was a witch called the city guard! She continued to stroke Nyx's chest, but her tone was a little more pointed. "I would never subject a spirit that was not malevolent, into a form. When I cast the spell, it sort of ... cast a net, and any of the spirits there choose if they will accept the call." She looked back to Nyx. "#"Some people who practice summoning, can trap spirits, but just as there is good and bad in the average man or woman on the street, so too is there good and bad in the practitioner." She explained.

She gave a small smile as Ksenia continued. "To be honest, there isn't much I can do, right now. I'm only 22, and have only been studying the craft since I was 12 ... mastering magic takes a long time. It's true; I can do things that others can't ... just as some people could do much that I couldn't! Magic is a tool, like fire. It can heat your food on a cold day, or burn a man alive." She brushed her dress as she spoke. "well, you might not like it, but I do use my magic to get what I want. I have charms and spells that can make a person do what I want, or to forget someone that has happened. It's survival; you use every tool." She shook her head. "But I wouldn't worry; I don't use it on friends unless they turn on me." There was no hint of threat in her voice; she simply smiled politely, as Nyx chattered, as if joining in.

Kat stood up and paced a little. "Where are those two?! I detest sitting around waiting on others." She was very restless. "Sometimes I think Artemis feels like he ought to be shielding me, or saving me from the horrors of the wold. I suppose that comes with the territory of intimacy!" She said, though she didn't sound any less annoyed. "They'd better hurry up, or I'll go and get the Book myself." She proclaimed.

[Artemis Black]

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Artemis glared at Marcy as he turned away from the door. “You know I’m not that anymore. If I didn’t know you better, I’d worry why you cling to things long dead and gone. The world’s got enough problems without Hands.” Marcy just watched him, her eyes glued open and a manic grin plastered across her face. Eventually the Thief relented and averted his gaze.

“And yet, here you are. Guiding a Knife, armoring up. The ages come and go, but some things cannot change,” she said softly as her expression returned to a more subdued smile. Artemis approached a plain door, only remarkable for its lack of a handle or lock. He gave the wood three solid knocks, waited a breath, and pushed the door open. Inside several sputtering torches cast faint light onto racks of gleaming weapons, small tables covered in piled tools and implements, and wood stands holding aloft suits of armor ranging from chain and leathers down to simple cloth.

Artemis moved into the room and began to look over several sets of hardened leather. As he browsed he talked to Marcy distractedly, “I’m not calling on the bond. I’m not even asking you a favor. I’m coming to you as a friend, who is worried about another friend.” The thief grunted and reached out to a set with a series of small black runes on the inner collar and a dense cloth hooded mask. He hefted the armor off the rack and moved it to a wide table set against the wall. With practiced care he started to check over the leather and metal bindings, looking for damage or undue wear.

“Just a friend, I saw that look Arty. You crave her something fierce. I’d not be surprised if you finally have your five,” Marcy said as she shucked her clothes and reached for her own armor. Artemis grunted loudly as if struck in the gut. “No- there’s- you shouldn’t just say things like that,” he finally said. His checks complete, he started to toss aside his own clothing.

“Those marks are new,” Marcy’s voice said from no more than a stride away. Artemis started, but continued with his work, turning to the armor and pulling on the fabric under layer.

“Should I tell Robert you’re looking so close at another man’s chest?” the Thief asked her with a grin. She pouted at him, but relented, returning to her own armoring up. The next several minutes passed in relative silence, only the rustling of fabric and the creak of leather to fill the air. Finally Artemis stomped into his boots and yanked the straps tight. He looked to Marcy, who was clad in a flowing grey cloth getup and already looking over a hand of daggers piled on the table. She handed him a pair and pointed at another three.

“These should be good enough, but don’t expect them to take too many blows intact." He nodded to her and began sliding the weapons into slots in his armor, finishing with inserting the first pair of daggers into his wrist sheaths.

“Finished?” he asked Marcy, as he adjusted the hooded mask to rest down around his neck. She nodded and he led them out of the armory and back towards the storeroom. As they silently tromped down the hallway Artemis let out a chuckle. The tingle of the armor adjusting and adapting to detection tickled at his spine. He imagined it was coming from Kat and wondered what sort of mixed signals of danger and magic, likely from Nyx, she might be getting as they approached. After all, the enchantments on the gear were old, but still very effective. He knocked on the door lightly and pressed his ear to the wood. “If you’re finished ladies, we’re all set to go,” he said just loud enough to be heard comfortably on the far side of the door.