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It seemed like Vasiliadon was growing more crowded every day, but in a different way than the normal ebb and flow of visitors. This was people seeking refuge and safety in the walls as fears continued to rise of an impending attack on Taengea from the Egyptians. She cut through one of the smaller alley ways, seeking to avoid the larger crowd in the agora as she returned from the temples of the gods. She’d been going there as often as she dared, warned by more than one person that the streets were becoming too dangerous for anyone with royal connections. The days were dark, filled with so much darkness and fear that Sara oddly wished for Euttica. She wanted nothing more than to steal away with the boy that she loved, to go to their secret meeting place and hide away from the world -- and yet she was not sure that the boy she loved still loved her. Or maybe he’d been pretending.
The thought stung, but the whispers in her head picked at that distressing thought until it seemed to make sense. She was a bastard, but her influence was still...somewhat useful. Had that been what Alastor of Vasiliadon had wanted? And then as soon as her influence disappeared, he’d pulled away? No...no, that couldn’t be true -- she’d know him since she was a small girl, had chased him and wrote letters to him and had fallen in love with him. He...he couldn’t have…
Her thoughts were pushed away as someone grabbed her himaton, the rich green fabric suddenly choking as she was pulled from behind. She flailed out her arms for balance, opening her mouth to protest but then her ankle twisted awkwardly and sent her down to the ground with a hard thud. A sharp little cry of pain escaped her, insult added to injury. Who in the world? She turned, a frown already on her lips as she looked for whomever had pulled on her garments and found herself at the end of a knife, the sharp tip just inches from the tip of her nose. Her blue gaze flew up in surprise, the unfamiliar face of a man draped in the shadow.
Your money, girl. He said, his voice rough as he barked at her. Give it to me. Now
Sara paled, frozen in place. ’I...I don’t have any money.” She began to protest, but the man seemed to be in no mood for games. The knife moved quickly and she shut her eyes -- a blossom of pain spreading across her cheek as the man cut her. She shrank back, reaching a hand to staunch the blood on the cut.
The color of your clothes are too nice for you to not have any money. Now give it to me before I gut you like a fish, little wench.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It seemed like Vasiliadon was growing more crowded every day, but in a different way than the normal ebb and flow of visitors. This was people seeking refuge and safety in the walls as fears continued to rise of an impending attack on Taengea from the Egyptians. She cut through one of the smaller alley ways, seeking to avoid the larger crowd in the agora as she returned from the temples of the gods. She’d been going there as often as she dared, warned by more than one person that the streets were becoming too dangerous for anyone with royal connections. The days were dark, filled with so much darkness and fear that Sara oddly wished for Euttica. She wanted nothing more than to steal away with the boy that she loved, to go to their secret meeting place and hide away from the world -- and yet she was not sure that the boy she loved still loved her. Or maybe he’d been pretending.
The thought stung, but the whispers in her head picked at that distressing thought until it seemed to make sense. She was a bastard, but her influence was still...somewhat useful. Had that been what Alastor of Vasiliadon had wanted? And then as soon as her influence disappeared, he’d pulled away? No...no, that couldn’t be true -- she’d know him since she was a small girl, had chased him and wrote letters to him and had fallen in love with him. He...he couldn’t have…
Her thoughts were pushed away as someone grabbed her himaton, the rich green fabric suddenly choking as she was pulled from behind. She flailed out her arms for balance, opening her mouth to protest but then her ankle twisted awkwardly and sent her down to the ground with a hard thud. A sharp little cry of pain escaped her, insult added to injury. Who in the world? She turned, a frown already on her lips as she looked for whomever had pulled on her garments and found herself at the end of a knife, the sharp tip just inches from the tip of her nose. Her blue gaze flew up in surprise, the unfamiliar face of a man draped in the shadow.
Your money, girl. He said, his voice rough as he barked at her. Give it to me. Now
Sara paled, frozen in place. ’I...I don’t have any money.” She began to protest, but the man seemed to be in no mood for games. The knife moved quickly and she shut her eyes -- a blossom of pain spreading across her cheek as the man cut her. She shrank back, reaching a hand to staunch the blood on the cut.
The color of your clothes are too nice for you to not have any money. Now give it to me before I gut you like a fish, little wench.
It seemed like Vasiliadon was growing more crowded every day, but in a different way than the normal ebb and flow of visitors. This was people seeking refuge and safety in the walls as fears continued to rise of an impending attack on Taengea from the Egyptians. She cut through one of the smaller alley ways, seeking to avoid the larger crowd in the agora as she returned from the temples of the gods. She’d been going there as often as she dared, warned by more than one person that the streets were becoming too dangerous for anyone with royal connections. The days were dark, filled with so much darkness and fear that Sara oddly wished for Euttica. She wanted nothing more than to steal away with the boy that she loved, to go to their secret meeting place and hide away from the world -- and yet she was not sure that the boy she loved still loved her. Or maybe he’d been pretending.
The thought stung, but the whispers in her head picked at that distressing thought until it seemed to make sense. She was a bastard, but her influence was still...somewhat useful. Had that been what Alastor of Vasiliadon had wanted? And then as soon as her influence disappeared, he’d pulled away? No...no, that couldn’t be true -- she’d know him since she was a small girl, had chased him and wrote letters to him and had fallen in love with him. He...he couldn’t have…
Her thoughts were pushed away as someone grabbed her himaton, the rich green fabric suddenly choking as she was pulled from behind. She flailed out her arms for balance, opening her mouth to protest but then her ankle twisted awkwardly and sent her down to the ground with a hard thud. A sharp little cry of pain escaped her, insult added to injury. Who in the world? She turned, a frown already on her lips as she looked for whomever had pulled on her garments and found herself at the end of a knife, the sharp tip just inches from the tip of her nose. Her blue gaze flew up in surprise, the unfamiliar face of a man draped in the shadow.
Your money, girl. He said, his voice rough as he barked at her. Give it to me. Now
Sara paled, frozen in place. ’I...I don’t have any money.” She began to protest, but the man seemed to be in no mood for games. The knife moved quickly and she shut her eyes -- a blossom of pain spreading across her cheek as the man cut her. She shrank back, reaching a hand to staunch the blood on the cut.
The color of your clothes are too nice for you to not have any money. Now give it to me before I gut you like a fish, little wench.
Nikos was not accustomed to going everywhere with a sword strapped to his hip. But with the recent attacks from the Creed, and the crowds of restless commoners filling the streets of Vasiliadon, the Baron of Doralis had made the decision that going out of the manor without a weapon was not a good move. He also did not go anywhere without guards nearby – had gone so far as to insist that the rest of his family keep guards with them as well – though he despised them being close enough to eavesdrop on any conversations he might have with others – as such, the two Condos guards that had accompanied him today were about a half a dozen yards back, just within sight. His visit with Griffen had been cut a little short a few days prior in his haste to speak with Evangelina, and so he’d gone out this day to visit the boy and his mother.
He’d just left the small stone house where his bastard sone lived in the outer part of the city, and was making his way back home again when he passed by an alcove between buildings. A voice caught his attention. ’…are too nice for you to not have any money. Now give it to me before I gut you like a fish, little wench.’
Nikos stopped in his tracks, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and he turned for the alcove. He glanced towards his guards, giving them a signal to close ranks on him, that there was trouble. ”Hey!” he called to the ruffian holding a knife to a girl huddled on the ground. Nik recognized her a moment later. Sara… the bastard sister of Achilleas. One of them at least. ”She was gifted those clothes by her Lady and you will back off.” Honestly, Nik had no idea where Sara had gotten the clothes, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to let this peasant handle her as he was. While Nikos held little love for his Mikaelidas cousin, there was no ill will towards this innocent girl.
He moved forward as his guards hurriedly closed in, drawing his sword and leveling the tip at the knife wielding thug. ”Drop the knife. Now,” he commanded firmly. While the his entourage was still a few yards away, slowed by the throng of people, the Condos Lord fully intended to have his guards arrest the man upon their arrival and have him either jailed or thrown out of the city walls entirely.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Nikos was not accustomed to going everywhere with a sword strapped to his hip. But with the recent attacks from the Creed, and the crowds of restless commoners filling the streets of Vasiliadon, the Baron of Doralis had made the decision that going out of the manor without a weapon was not a good move. He also did not go anywhere without guards nearby – had gone so far as to insist that the rest of his family keep guards with them as well – though he despised them being close enough to eavesdrop on any conversations he might have with others – as such, the two Condos guards that had accompanied him today were about a half a dozen yards back, just within sight. His visit with Griffen had been cut a little short a few days prior in his haste to speak with Evangelina, and so he’d gone out this day to visit the boy and his mother.
He’d just left the small stone house where his bastard sone lived in the outer part of the city, and was making his way back home again when he passed by an alcove between buildings. A voice caught his attention. ’…are too nice for you to not have any money. Now give it to me before I gut you like a fish, little wench.’
Nikos stopped in his tracks, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and he turned for the alcove. He glanced towards his guards, giving them a signal to close ranks on him, that there was trouble. ”Hey!” he called to the ruffian holding a knife to a girl huddled on the ground. Nik recognized her a moment later. Sara… the bastard sister of Achilleas. One of them at least. ”She was gifted those clothes by her Lady and you will back off.” Honestly, Nik had no idea where Sara had gotten the clothes, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to let this peasant handle her as he was. While Nikos held little love for his Mikaelidas cousin, there was no ill will towards this innocent girl.
He moved forward as his guards hurriedly closed in, drawing his sword and leveling the tip at the knife wielding thug. ”Drop the knife. Now,” he commanded firmly. While the his entourage was still a few yards away, slowed by the throng of people, the Condos Lord fully intended to have his guards arrest the man upon their arrival and have him either jailed or thrown out of the city walls entirely.
Nikos was not accustomed to going everywhere with a sword strapped to his hip. But with the recent attacks from the Creed, and the crowds of restless commoners filling the streets of Vasiliadon, the Baron of Doralis had made the decision that going out of the manor without a weapon was not a good move. He also did not go anywhere without guards nearby – had gone so far as to insist that the rest of his family keep guards with them as well – though he despised them being close enough to eavesdrop on any conversations he might have with others – as such, the two Condos guards that had accompanied him today were about a half a dozen yards back, just within sight. His visit with Griffen had been cut a little short a few days prior in his haste to speak with Evangelina, and so he’d gone out this day to visit the boy and his mother.
He’d just left the small stone house where his bastard sone lived in the outer part of the city, and was making his way back home again when he passed by an alcove between buildings. A voice caught his attention. ’…are too nice for you to not have any money. Now give it to me before I gut you like a fish, little wench.’
Nikos stopped in his tracks, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and he turned for the alcove. He glanced towards his guards, giving them a signal to close ranks on him, that there was trouble. ”Hey!” he called to the ruffian holding a knife to a girl huddled on the ground. Nik recognized her a moment later. Sara… the bastard sister of Achilleas. One of them at least. ”She was gifted those clothes by her Lady and you will back off.” Honestly, Nik had no idea where Sara had gotten the clothes, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to let this peasant handle her as he was. While Nikos held little love for his Mikaelidas cousin, there was no ill will towards this innocent girl.
He moved forward as his guards hurriedly closed in, drawing his sword and leveling the tip at the knife wielding thug. ”Drop the knife. Now,” he commanded firmly. While the his entourage was still a few yards away, slowed by the throng of people, the Condos Lord fully intended to have his guards arrest the man upon their arrival and have him either jailed or thrown out of the city walls entirely.
