My career has not gone well. Whenever I seem to get some sort of traction under me, I’m always caught in the “we can make this department more effective by cutting hours, freezing pay, and expecting more” mantra of new managers. Three jobs later and I don’t have any sense of accomplishment anymore. My escape is writing.

I posted a couple of stories here eight years ago and thought back then that I was just wasting people's time. Looking back at them, I can say for certain that they were awful, and I definitely was. I’m so sorry for anyone who read them. However, a bunch of personal stories later, I got to a point that I felt like I wasn’t posting junk. Probably still was and it was terrifying, but as hard as it was, I felt more for them than anything I had done to further my career.

What made me get serious? I survived the first round of making my department more effective in my current job only to get hit by the second round last summer. The difference this time is I had paid off my student loans. I hate my job. It stopped being a career back then. So if that’s just a job without any path forward, why not do something I like? Now I wake up early and write or try and write on my days off instead of voluntarily doing stuff for work. I think I’m up to about eighty stories, two of which I turned into serials for a bit. They aren’t all that great, but they are mine, and no one other than my husband knows about them in real life. It has made my sense of pride entirely my own.

Round three of nonsense just happened at work and I burnt out hard because of it. I’m definitely recovering faster this time and I’ll probably start posting again some time in the next week or two.

As always, thank you to the community and the mods for making this space so inviting. I have something to look forward to because of it.

Medical files a weekly report of "walking blood supply". It's how many non injured, non sick crew are on board.

I smiled at the sound of Marthlok‘s voice. The knights had ”rescued” me a few hours ago when Marthlok had flown out to get some food because I was craving apples. For some reason those idiots took Marthlok’s absence as an invitation to break into our cave and kidnap me, while trying to assure me I was safe from the monster. So here I was now, stuck in some dumb guy‘s castle. I had tried explaining the mixup, but unfortunately no one knew sign language.

I could hear men screaming, orders, war cries. Their ignorance didn’t surprise me now. I walked towards the next window, wanting to see what was going on outside. One guy had stepped forward, his sword up high, shouting at Marthlok how they would never release me.

I touched the amulet around my neck and locked my eyes on Marthlok, trying to focus. ‘I’m here’, I told him. Still hovering above the grounds Marthlok looked up to me and nodded.“You are foolish men, for you try to meddle with things you don’t understand.“ Marthlok‘s voice was deep and clear. "And now you don’t even try to talk to me but want to fight. All I asked for is to get my human back. Shame.” With a strong beat of his wings Marthlok knocked all the guys over. I smiled. More guards came running out, trying to shoot arrows, just to be knocked off their feet by Marthlok flapping his wings. Finally he flew up to my window. “Stand away there for a second”, he advised me, before ripping out a piece of wall. I climbed over the rubble towards the dragon. ‘I’m glad you came’, I signed and swung onto Marthlok’s back. “Of course. Now come on, let’s go home before the apples rot.”

Thank you so much!!! I will certainly try to add more to the story :D

Belthas heard the roar from inside the tower. He hurried over to the window to see his dragon friend flying in a massive arc over the city. Down below he could see people fleeing in every direction. Guards dropped their weapons and ran for cover in a panicked frenzy. Families shut every window and door to their homes.

He knew he should pity them, but his heart filled with joy at the spectacle. Tears filled his eyes as a dozen more dragons, of all different sizes, filled the sky. Maegor, their leader, slowly descended onto the city's front gate. Behind him, the other dragons landed.

"Hear me citizens of Kerak." Maegor bellowed. "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble and free them myself." Maegor roared once more and the other dragons joined him. The very earth shook and Belthas was forced to cover his ears.

"What say you?" Maegor bellowed. An eerie silence followed.

"Maegor!" Belthas cried out. "Maegor I'm here!" Belthas heard footsteps in the tower. He turned just in time to see the city's mayor, Rorath, peer through the vision slit of his door.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you," Rorath growled "What devilry possessed you to take up with them? Against your own kind and kin!"

"They are my friends, brother." Belthas said calmly.

"Until their stomachs are empty, like your head." Keys rattled and clanked, and the heavy bolt for the door was undone with a loud thunk. The hinges of the door whined as it opened. Rorath stood menacingly, glowering at Belthas. "Go. Go be with your friends."

Slowly, Belthas began to walk towards the door. Rorath's eyes followed him all the while. Meekly he squeezed past Rorath. In a flash, Rorath's dagger was out of its sheath and in his hands. Belthas flinched and froze with fear.

"I said GO!" Rorath belted. "Go before I cut your throat!"

Belthas turned and ran as fast as he could down the winding staircase. He nearly fell but caught himself on the wall. By the time he reached the bottom, he was out of breath. Briskly he made his way through the castle, hateful stares following him through every hall and corridor.

"Traitor." murmured a young girl. "Coward." said an elderly man. "Worm." an elderly lady spat. Finally, he reached the main gate of the inner castle. All that was left to do was cross the drawbridge over the moat, and then it was a straight shot to the main castle's gate. There, atop the parapets, stood Maegor. The city walls were nearly ten meters high, and Maegor made them look small. Under his massive talons, the stones crumbled and cracked.

When Maegor saw Belthas, he let out a small roar. Small for Maegor, at least. Maegor's tail flicked and he shifted eagerly on the wall. The stone towers on either side of the gate crumbled under the shifting weight, and clumsily Maegor stumbled down onto the main street.

Belthas broke out into a sprint towards Maegor, and Maegor dropped his massive head down to meet his embrace. Maegor's head and neck covered nearly half the distance. Belthas barely slowed down before colliding with Maegor's nose.

"Friend." Belthas said tearily. Maegor let out a sigh and Belthas was surrounded by the hot air. It didn't bother him in the slightest. Belthas stepped back to look at his friend. Maegor slowly opened his mouth and his massive tongue gently pressed against Belthas' face. Belthas giggled as he leaned into the tongue, so as not to be knocked off his feet.

Maegor dropped his head and tilted it for Belthas to climb on. When Belthas was halfway up, Maegor flicked his head to help Belthas up the rest of the way. "The others have missed you." Maegor said softly. "And so have I."

Belthas, laying flat, squeezed the scales he was holding onto just a little tighter. Maegor lept over the gate wall, spread his wings, and with a running start, the pair took off into the sky.

Could you help me fix the grammar ?

That was fun

Elaine spent several minutes in thought before she finally exclaimed, "I wish that you would please provide me your sagest, most honest, and frank guidance and wisdom on how to use my remaining two wishes!"

"It shall be... wait, what? Run that by me one more time." The crimson spirit rubbed what passed for its chin in utter disbelief.

"I said as I wished, Genie! Grant me your sage counsel on how I can best utilize the two remaining wishes at my disposal. You were issuing me a challenge, right? You said that any wish I could make, you'd twist and warp until not a scrap of the spirit of the original wish's intent remained. But that's the secret, isn't it. It's like that one movie I saw a few years back - 'The only winning move is not to play.' I know I can't outsmart you. I'm 28 and you're what... fifteen thousand?"

"12,351, thank you. Geez, you're trying to put me one foot in the grave! Well, if I had feet, in any case. Whatever, it's a metaphor. But anyway, I've had hundreds of people come by over the millennia. The first few dozen were so easy to trick. They come in wishing for gold, and poof, they get a bunch of coins out of the king's vault, then the inquisitors come by and well, you can probably guess how it goes from there. And then there's those that rub my lamp thinking they could beat me in a test of wit and words. But here's the rub, pun intended. You are the very first person not to even try!" The genie started laughing. "Look, Miss, it's actually funny because you're the first one to have these magical, reality-warping, wish-granting powers at your disposal, and you're just going to up and not use them! Even hearing it with my own ears, I don't believe it myself!"

Elaine took an assertive posture, hands on her hips. "So, is that it then? That's your advice - just don't use my remaining wishes? Alright, fine, you win, bye, I don't have time to deal with you; I gotta go pick up my kid from daycare and my wife is gonna grill me so hard if I don't stop by and pick up some eggs for dinner on the way home. So yeah, have a nice rest of eternity."

"Seriously, you're just going to leave these wishes on the table? I could wish you all the eggs you'd ever need, I could wish you the power to, you know, just teleport or fly or even conjure up dinner with a simple wave of your hand."

"You said it yourself, Genie. Your advice was not to use your powers, and I'm not enough of an idiot to believe I could prove you wrong. Take care and see you never."

<2/3>

"We're going to make a special visit to Ebenshire. Specifically, a permanent occupant in D block cell, I think, twenty somethin'," Rocky said.

Harris grimaced as he burnt his tongue on his coffee, having been emboldened by his previous sip. Rocky's words sank in, and Harris looked puzzled, then confused, and finally settled on annoyed. "Kelley? Wallace Kelley? You think he inspired a copycat?" Harris gingerly smoothed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"I think Kelley inspired Kelley."

Harris started to speak, caught himself, and rubbed his eyes. Rocky toed the grate he stood on with the rubber sole of his shoe. His leg felt numb from the cramped ride over.

"Ok, first, Kelley's MO was always young men, but only a single individual, never pairs, and the way he positioned them was, well, dammit I don't wanna say artistic but not something simple like this. But, and here's the real problem here," Harris lifted three fingers off his coffee to point with them for dramatic emphasis, "Kelley has been in a fucking cement cube for at least a decade now."

"I didn't say that Wallace did it. I said that he inspired Kelley. A Kelley. Look at our victims again. Green eyes. Cleft chins. Ring fingers longer than index fingers. Moles just behind the hairlines of both men."

"You think they're related?"

"Closely related."

"Ok, but what does that mean for the killer and Kelley?"

"They're related. Closely related."

Not bad

Thanks. I tried to avoid being too obvious.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you for the critiques. I made the corrections. I'm glad you enjoyed the piece.

Murmurs of confusion rippled through the crowd. A few guards arrived, took one look at the massive dragon painted like their sigil, and immediately stood at attention. Whatever was going on, they were waiting for some goddamn orders.

Minutes passed. Glassmaker paced tensely. What was going on? Impatient, he finally barked "have any of you seen Sir Alden Darwin? Could someone please fetch him?"

The confusion rose in pitch to a dull roar. The soldiers glanced nervously at one another. Glassmaker gritted his teeth. One of them snapped, falling to pieces on the ground. Damn. It'll take a month to regrow that. He pointed a clawed finger at a nearby guard who was looking up with a friendly smile, and silently beckoned him over.

"Soldier, what is going on?"

"I... I was going to ask you that, sir."

Shit. Well so much for that. "Do you know where Alden is?"

"Yes sir. He is in the cells beneath this very stadium."

"Is he safe and well?"

The soldier hesitated, and winced at the look on Glassmaker's face as he noticed the pause. "Well enough. He broke his arm trying to escape last week. HE FELL! Honest! Ask him yourself!"

Glassmaker's expression softened. "Please have him released, given a bath, fresh clothes and any provisions he needs, and have him brought to me at once."

He was going to let Alden figure this nonsense out. But that would take time. He sighed deeply. His voice boomed out "People of..." and he trailed off. Where are we? He leaned to another guard "where are we?"

"Arnun, sir."

"People of Arnun! Clearly there is more to this than meets the eye. A trusted mediator is on his way. In the mean time," he made a c'mon! get playing! gesture to the band, blowing over a few sigils and banners in the process. "We shall celebrate the upcoming peace!"

Confused applause, and a mix of cheers and even a few boos. One woman literally covered the mouth of the woman booing in front of her. "Are you out. Of your. Mind. YOU ARE BOOING A DRAGON."

Glassmaker attempted to stifle another fit of laughter, barely containing a gout of flame from taking out half the stadium.

The band creaked and cranked through every crowd favorite they knew, and then every crowd pleaser they know, and then they played whatever half-remembered songs they could think of. At last, a massive wide red moustache arrived half a stride before the man who grew it.

"GLASSMAKER! I should've known. These folks are a hoot and a holler let me tell you. We ready to get out of here? What the hell is all that paint?"

The dragon shook his head and chuckled. "Apparently there's a bit of a faff going on. These sailors" he gestured vaguely towards the gallows "say that the mob on stage" a stage-ward head wag "were going to cancel the peace and keep the war going. But that lot say that THESE lot were supposed to be executed. How do we get to the bottom of it?"

Alden tried to reach up to scratch his chin with his hand, realized it was in a cast, and switched to his other. He traced a nick from his rushed shave as he thought. He sucked the smudge of blood off the tip of his finger and thought some more.

"Hell, I have no idea. Hey you sailors. What would you have us do with the other people."

One of them belted out "Well we're a little miffed about them being ready to hang us!"

"Heh!" teeny puff of flame "But that's not what I asked."

Morcant looked up. "Easy. Court. Trial. Conviction or acquittal. Sentencing based on the crime. Fair and square. Perhaps more than they deserve. We don't actually have a death penalty." He shot a glare at them.

"In our defense" one of the slightly nervous looking members of the gallows-justice crew squeaked "there was a trial."

A fresh wave of boos and jeers roared from the audience. Bones from the snacks people had brought pelted the stage.

Glassmaker did his toothiest smile, the fresh gap bleeding slightly. "It looks like there has been a new trial, just now. Perhaps their trial was unfair in some way?"

The noise started to peter out. No cheers, no boos. An awkward cough here and there. Morcant frowned.

"What's the matter! Don't want to explain what happened now?" The sailors gave dark laughs.

Sorry english is my second language I often miss some mistakes in grammar

Nice.

The robed man tried to get the dragon's attention as it continued it's rant in front of the castle. He knows that the dragon had seen him as its flaming breath no longer threatened the gate to the castle or him as he stands outside of one of the few ways into it.

"Woah, woah, woah...I am sorry but I think you don't understand the situation here, my good dragon," the small man in brown robes, a leather belt, and matching boots said in response to the dragon's statement. On his hip hung a small metal orb of silver and several chains of beads that ran a riot of colors. He holds his hands up in front of him and acts very defensive in response to the roaring declaration the dragon had just made.

They stood facing each other on the dirt cart path that lead up to and into the castle proper, just a few cart lengths outside the castle's main gate. From the castle walls, many people are hiding and trying to watching the conversation between the two of them as it goes on. There were even a few brave souls with bows and arrows pointed at the dragon from cover.

"I can understand your concern for them but, really, you must understand our dilemma. We just can not understand this course of action you seem to be trying to impose on us." He began. He looked over his shoulder back at the castle while waving a hand in their direction.

"You see, there are several arguments to be had here as to why you should not do this." He smiled up at the dragon's toothy face with warm friendship practically oozing out of him. "First, what about the dragon's that the dwarves have captive? Aren't they a greater priority than some simply humans that live in your caves? Shouldn't you all be doing something about that?"

The dragon comment had got its attention.

The dragon, which had been rearing up it's full height ranting at the castle just minutes before was now turning its head to the man and dropped to all fours. Until the man had come out one of the small door of the gate, the dragon had been making a terrible noise outside the gate for quite a while. It had even been throwing torrents for flame against the walls of the castle in punctuation of it's threats. It kept yelling for it cave people held in the castle right up until the man had finally got it attention.

"Secondly, we simply can not afford the cost of fixing our castle. We are here in the borderlands, trying to survive. As you can see while the castle is fairly strong we have spent far more of our funds on trying to expand the field to support this generation's children."

He tilted his head to the dragon as if sharing a secret. "You see," his voice lowered as if he was trying to speak only to the dragon. "We had a lot of indoor time, if you know what I mean, this last winter. It has us a bit concerned as you can imagine." He had actually winked as he said indoor time.

He straightened, "We just can't spend our little money on such things as repairs right now."

Something touched the dragon's expression as if it was actually embarrassed by what the frankly speaking man was saying to it. An expression that everyone watching saw and caused a bit of a murmur to pass through them.

"Add to that, we are human after all, right?"

This time the dragon's tilted it head at the man, smoke boiling out of the corners of its mouth as it spoke, "Well, yes...you are human..." it said as if not sure what was going on now. As it spoke it's eyes looked across the wall and back to the man.

"Yes. We are," replied the man, pride filling his words. "We are human and you know what that means? You destroy our castle...maybe kill a few of us in the process. We get angry. We come after you in larger numbers."

"Now you have to kill some more of us. Which leads to more of us coming to kill you. Maybe we will, maybe we wont but it wont stop there, right?"

"Eventually, we will kill you," he continued. "But now your kind have to do something about that, as well they should, right?" The dragon bobbed his head in agreement. "Now we have more of us all being drawn in to this little thing over some cave people that decided to take a few goats. Goats that are not theirs in the first place to boot!"

Sadly, "Now we have a war...a bad one. Your kind and my kind hell bent on a fight that neither of us actually started, right?"

"A Race War...the worst kind of war....and none of us want that, right?"

Cool.

It was fine but if the grammar was better then it would been awesome

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An uproar could be heard from outside; there was a thud that shook the building, and the sound of men yelling. Some in pain, and some from the adrenaline of a combat joined. Sounds that were familiar to Courage.

"Sounds like she's taking the slow way," Courage said. "Doesn't want me to be caught up in any kind of carnage. That's not good for you; she likes to take her time, when she does this. And she's not any less tough."

"What do you mean?" The leader glowered down at her, one hand on a dagger at his side. "I swear, call her off, or--"

"Or what? You'll kill me? We've already discussed that option, and the fact that it isn't one you have." Courage couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice as she listened to the presumption of this kidnapper, as she heard him desperately try to reassert control of the situation. "Let's discuss the ones you do have. Your options, you foul-smelling oaf of a man, are to die quickly and painfully, die slowly and painfully, or let me go, and maybe live long enough to die on someone else's time. Choose carefully. She won't be any less angry after killing your men. Red dragons are notoriously hard to calm."

The yelling below continued, and the sounds of steel clashing. The inside of the room was quiet as the two men standing over her processed this, and then there was an almighty bang from below, the sound of a heavy door crashing off its hinges and to the floor.

"Think quickly, gentlemen," Courage said, "time is almost up. If she gets up here and you're still here, standing over a tied-up me, you're as good as charcoal. Sand's running, boys. Time to act."

The two of them moved immediately, lunging for the open window facing away from the door and presumably out to the back of whatever little compound they had here. It was only a second story window, which was fortunate for them as they leaped out of it without any rope or support. Courage could hear grunting as they landed, and then they were scrambling away, towards whatever cover they might be able to find, no doubt.

Courage sighed as she settled back against the wall, waiting. Not a couple of moments later, the door burst open, and a woman rushed through, an elaborate flaming greatsword in her hands. She was tall - closer to seven feet than she was to six - and well-built, a clear warrior. She wore no armor, though the slashes in her clothing showed red scale reinforcing the vital points on her tanned body, scale so hard no mundane weapon could penetrate them. Long red hair swung wildly around her face as her head whipped back and forth, looking for anything that might have been lurking in preparation to strike. Even with the tension of combat in her jaw and eyes, Courage couldn't help but admire the beauty of Fer'Atha's human form. Either of her forms was beautiful, really, but this was a different kind of beauty than the lethal, predatory grace of a dragon.

"Go easy, Fer'Atha. I'm here. I'm alright. The ones holding me left." Courage smiled at her partner, flexing her arms slightly to indicate that she was bound. "Cut me loose?"

Fer'Atha's glare was intense, her eyes like cinders in the dark of the room. "Where did they go? I'll make them pay for this, nobody tries to take you away from me, nobody!"

"Fer." Courage's voice was understanding, but firm. "It's okay. I'm...well, I'm not unharmed, but I'm alive. A quick shot of magic from you and I'll be right as rain. Just please come cut me loose, being tied up like this is not comfortable. There'll be time for the rest later."

Fer'Atha blinked at her, and the tension in her arms and shoulders slowly released, the sword vanishing into nothing as she released the magic that had summoned it. She walked across the room and knelt down next to Courage, working her fingertips under the ropes. She bit her nails - black, and sharp as claws - into the rope, and pulled roughly, slicing through them.

Courage sighed, and flexed her shoulders, bringing her arms out from behind her back. "Oh, gods, thank you. I was worried I'd lose feeling in them entirely. Though, that might not have been utterly terrible..." She held up her hands, bruised and damaged, with several of her fingers pointing in unnatural directions. "Looks worse than it feels, I guess. All that pain control training finally came in handy. Help me out?"

Fer'Atha's expression as she looked at Courage's hands was one of mixed concern and anger, and she closed her hands around Courage's broken ones, a green glow surrounding them as the healing magic began its work.

"I...was scared, Mari," Fer'Atha said. "You were just gone, no note or message or anything, I was so scared. I thought your brother and his men had found us, or maybe servants of the Black Dragonflight. I thought I'd never see you again..."

There were tears swimming in those crimson eyes as Fer'Atha regarded her, and Courage smiled back at her draconic partner. "It might be related to one of those things. I'm glad you didn't just burn the place; now we can look for some kind of clue as to who wanted me so badly. But for now, just know that I'm glad you came for me, that you found me."

The healing had finished, but Fer'Atha kept Courage's hands in hers, their gazes locked. "I'll always come find you," Fer'Atha said, her voice low and intimate. "You're everything to me."

"As you are to me." Courage removed one of her hands from Fer'Atha's, and set it on the dragon-woman's cheek. "Now come on. We've got more work to do. Are you comfortable staying in a human form for a little while longer?"

"As long as you like, Mari. What are we looking for?"

"Paperwork, perhaps," Courage said, giving her partner a wry smile. "Or at least, a big bag of gold. These men were paid to take me - let's find out who did the paying and why."

They'd taken her while she was asleep. They had to; they wouldn't have stood a chance otherwise, not with her breadth of skills and magic.

Now, Courage was blindfolded, bound, and gagged, slumped against a wall, clad in rough-spun clothing that wasn't her own. Her hands were injured, several of her fingers broken; no hope of using any magic to free herself, not without help.

"...I'm telling you," one of the bandits was saying, his voice fading in and out of Courage's wounded consciousness, "she's familiar to me. I know this woman."

"Yeah," another one joked, his tone implying something salacious, "I'll bet you do. A body like that, I wouldn't mind knowing her too."

A third voice spoke up, one with authority. "The people paying for this made it clear, hands off, no damage that ain't necessary. Had to bust up her hands so she couldn't do any sorcery, but that's it. You touch her, and I'll sell you to make up the difference in value."

Courage gave her head a slight shake, trying to snap herself back to awareness. She'd been captured, that much was clear, and it sounded like it wasn't a whim that had led to it - this was a job for these men, someone had paid them to take this risk. Courage certainly hoped they'd been paid well, and that they'd already spent it, because they seemed to be missing one important piece of knowledge: her partner.

"Go tell the rest of the lads," the third voice said, "to get the wagon ready and figure out amongst themselves who's goin' on the delivery. I'll take a dozen; don't want anyone stealin' our prize from us on the way."

"Right, boss," the second voice said, and Courage could hear his footsteps leave the room, a heavy wooden door slamming shut behind him.

"I'm telling you, boss, I know this wench." The first voice spoke again, his tone suspicious, and she could hear footsteps approaching her now. She felt a hand wrap around her chin and begin moving her face, tilting and turning it to take in her features. It surely wouldn't be someone recognizing her as Princess Marielle; there was nothing left of that soft little girl now, nothing but the name that only a select few were allowed to use. Long blonde hair chopped to shoulder length, and all the roundness of her face gone, burned away in the crucible of her life to reveal the angular steel underneath. Marielle had been harmlessly pretty; Courage was, at this point, dangerously beautiful, and deeply unrecognizable as what she had been once.

"Wait..." The voice spoke again, and the hand let go of her face, the boots moving away from her again. She heard the sounds of clanking metal; possibly her armor, and her weapons. "I do recognize this woman. This armor, the sword. This is..."

"Well? Spit it out," the leader's voice said, his tone impatient.

"I was a soldier for the kingdom of Harrenscourt. You know, the place that got burned by a red dragon about five years back?"

"Aye, you've mentioned that before."

"Well," the first voice said hurriedly, "the dragon had a rider, someone directing it and fighting alongside it. A woman."

There was quiet for a moment, though it was only quiet to those who didn't have Courage's skillset. She could hear what was coming, could hear the wingbeats growing closer through a window nearby; she could feel what was about to happen. The brigands couldn't, though, as wrapped up in sudden revelation as they were.

"You mean to tell me this woman...she's..."

The leader's voice was cut off by an earsplitting roar. Courage couldn't help herself; she began laughing, the gag muffling the sound. A second later, the air was rent by a deep, menacing voice, shouting loud enough to be heard in the neighboring kingdom.

"WHERE IS MY RIDER? I SENSE HER HERE! YOU CANNOT HIDE HER FROM ME! RELEASE HER NOW, OR FACE THE WRATH OF FER'ATHA THE RED, THE SCOURGE OF HARRENSCOURT!"

The two men were silent. There was a beat of hesitation, and then footsteps approached Courage again. She felt fingers slide beneath her blindfold and her gag, pulling them out of place. She could see the rough-looking men standing over her, see their wide, fearful eyes and the sweat suddenly springing from their brow. She flexed her jaw, licking at her lips a bit to restore moisture to them, and as she did, the leader spoke.

"Call it off," he said roughly. The face that owned the voice was no less rough or terse; he was a stocky man, with a week's growth of stubble and shaggy brown hair. His arms looked like he'd definitely done his share of labor in his time - either that, or swinging of weaponry. "Call it off, or I run you through with your own sword, woman."

Courage smirked up at the man. "You kill me, and she will know it. And she'll make sure every single one of you dies in the most horrendously painful way she can think of. And Fer'Atha, she's very inventive. Very clever. She'll invent new forms of torture just for you. So no, I think the only thing I'll be calling right now is your ridiculous bluff. Let me go, and you might live to see tomorrow."

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