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<blockquote data-quote="KahlessNestor" data-source="post: 7139632" data-attributes="member: 6801311"><p><img src="http://i64.tinypic.com/14tyqe9.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p> </p><p>Tyr</p><p>Midday</p><p> </p><p>Swathed in a white traveling wrap that left only her eyes free, Kimet studied the half giant guarding the entrance to the villa. She rested the stone head of her maul on the dusty street. She had fought such beasts before in the arena. They were strong and tough, but they bled and their skulls crushed just like anyone else. </p><p> </p><p>Strong, calloused hands fished the parchment front the satchel at her hip and she pulled out the letter of invitation. She didn’t recognize the seal that had closed the scroll, but this was definitely the address given.</p><p> </p><p>Picking up her pack and the weapon harness with her net and javelins, she settled her stone axes in their loops at her belt and put her maul over her shoulder as she approached. She showed the letter to the half-giant and he grunted and opened the door for her.</p><p> </p><p>Inside was not what she expected. This homeowner was wealthy, and doing well in the new Tyr, unlike many. She scowled at the fountain. Such a waste of water would have been severely punished in her desert tribe.</p><p> </p><p>Dropping her pack again, Kimet started to unwrap her robe since the courtyard was shaded by palm trees, revealing a hard, muscled body clad only in a leather and chitin bikini. It hardly looked like such armor would protect her, and it didn’t, really. But that was all part of the show. Tyrans gawked at her, and a few murmurs went through the crowd. Apparently some people recognized her from the arena.</p><p> </p><p>Kimet tossed her long blonde hair and ran her fingers through it before stuffing her wrap into her pack again. Then she picked it up and sauntered further into the room. Now that she was ‘on’, she put a bit more sway in her step, emphasizing her enticing feminine features. She walked through the mist created by the fountain, the water feeling blessedly cool on her bronze skin. She licked the cool, life-giving liquid from her lips as she felt it drizzle between her breasts, making her blonde hair glitter golden in the sun. She found a position against the wall where she could watch her back and the door, as well as the other milling strangers in the courtyard. Idly she fingered the colored stones of the necklace at her throat, remembering the night Sholar had given it to her, when he asked her to marry him, under the full moon on the ridge above their tribe’s campsite. She remembered his embrace, the scent of him, the feel of his lips, even after all these years, all the brutalities she had endured since he was murdered and she was captured and sold into slavery.</p><p> </p><p>Kimet tightened her fist, sharp nails drawing blood from the heel of her hand as she pushed those memories aside. They just brought pain. She couldn’t afford weakness. She dropped her hands to her belt, brushing one of the pouches there. Idly she undid the bone button closing it and pulled out her other valuable possession. This was a lot more valuable and rare, a single white glove that glittered in the sun like diamonds. It fit her perfectly now, like a second skin, though it had been on a much bigger hand when she had first taken it -- and the hand it was in. Some minor magic had resized it to fit, and also kept the white cloth immaculately clean, no matter how much blood and gore she got on it, and making it shimmer and glitter in the light. It had belonged to her former owner, and she had taken it when he was killed by desert raiders.</p><p> </p><p>Kimet slipped the glove back into its pouch. She was free now. She wore it in the arena now when she needed to fight to make ends meet. But right now she was here for a job. If only the man who sent her the letter would show.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="KahlessNestor, post: 7139632, member: 6801311"] [IMG]http://i64.tinypic.com/14tyqe9.jpg[/IMG] Tyr Midday Swathed in a white traveling wrap that left only her eyes free, Kimet studied the half giant guarding the entrance to the villa. She rested the stone head of her maul on the dusty street. She had fought such beasts before in the arena. They were strong and tough, but they bled and their skulls crushed just like anyone else. Strong, calloused hands fished the parchment front the satchel at her hip and she pulled out the letter of invitation. She didn’t recognize the seal that had closed the scroll, but this was definitely the address given. Picking up her pack and the weapon harness with her net and javelins, she settled her stone axes in their loops at her belt and put her maul over her shoulder as she approached. She showed the letter to the half-giant and he grunted and opened the door for her. Inside was not what she expected. This homeowner was wealthy, and doing well in the new Tyr, unlike many. She scowled at the fountain. Such a waste of water would have been severely punished in her desert tribe. Dropping her pack again, Kimet started to unwrap her robe since the courtyard was shaded by palm trees, revealing a hard, muscled body clad only in a leather and chitin bikini. It hardly looked like such armor would protect her, and it didn’t, really. But that was all part of the show. Tyrans gawked at her, and a few murmurs went through the crowd. Apparently some people recognized her from the arena. Kimet tossed her long blonde hair and ran her fingers through it before stuffing her wrap into her pack again. Then she picked it up and sauntered further into the room. Now that she was ‘on’, she put a bit more sway in her step, emphasizing her enticing feminine features. She walked through the mist created by the fountain, the water feeling blessedly cool on her bronze skin. She licked the cool, life-giving liquid from her lips as she felt it drizzle between her breasts, making her blonde hair glitter golden in the sun. She found a position against the wall where she could watch her back and the door, as well as the other milling strangers in the courtyard. Idly she fingered the colored stones of the necklace at her throat, remembering the night Sholar had given it to her, when he asked her to marry him, under the full moon on the ridge above their tribe’s campsite. She remembered his embrace, the scent of him, the feel of his lips, even after all these years, all the brutalities she had endured since he was murdered and she was captured and sold into slavery. Kimet tightened her fist, sharp nails drawing blood from the heel of her hand as she pushed those memories aside. They just brought pain. She couldn’t afford weakness. She dropped her hands to her belt, brushing one of the pouches there. Idly she undid the bone button closing it and pulled out her other valuable possession. This was a lot more valuable and rare, a single white glove that glittered in the sun like diamonds. It fit her perfectly now, like a second skin, though it had been on a much bigger hand when she had first taken it -- and the hand it was in. Some minor magic had resized it to fit, and also kept the white cloth immaculately clean, no matter how much blood and gore she got on it, and making it shimmer and glitter in the light. It had belonged to her former owner, and she had taken it when he was killed by desert raiders. Kimet slipped the glove back into its pouch. She was free now. She wore it in the arena now when she needed to fight to make ends meet. But right now she was here for a job. If only the man who sent her the letter would show. [/QUOTE]
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