Secrets in silk.

[Sioladuil]

Mara Marsk

Height: 5'8"
Weight: 128lbs.

Equipment: Mara wears clothing which has been made for her and cut to fit. It shows off her athletic figure while still allowing maximum mobility. She wears expensive Tunics, which always have balloon sleeves, with trousers and expensive boots. She wears a grey cloak, which is big enough to cover her entirely if needed, but it does not trail on the ground. She carries a variety of street weapons around her person. Knuckledusters, impromtu shanks and so on. She has a Kama sheathed at each hip. She has a shortbow over her shoulders. It sits diagonally, right shoulder to left hip, and it is made of a black wood.

She has shoulder length brown hair, straight, which is well cared for. She has vivid green eyes. 

Noticeable features: She has a swallow tattoo on the backs of both hands. One on each. The swallow sits between her thumb and index finger. All of her lower teeth are golden. 

[Sioladuil]

A young child was squatted in an alley, using a bin as cover, while she waited patiently. Her hair was matted and she had dirt smeared all over her. Her teeth where rotten and she was clearly malnourished. She carefully scanned the alley, closing her eyes occasionally, listening quietly for sounds of movement and activity. She fantasised, allowing her thoughts to create scenarios in which she was wealthy, a land owner and powerful. This kept her focused, alert. 

Hours had passed, she had not been counting, but there was finally the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against metal. A door opening. She opened her eyes and looked through the gap between the wall and the bin. She reached inside her torn tunic and took out a rudimentary knife, a hand made bladed article. She tensed as she saw her mark exit the rear entrance of the brothel. He looked tired, yet happy, and he shuffled out of the door and began to walk away. Mara waited, just a moment, and she heard the door slam closed. She slowly stood up and rolled her neck to loosen her shoulders. She took a few carefully measure steps towards her mark. 

Without hesitation, in a flurry of strikes, she begin shoving the shank in to her mark. She aimed for the thighs and buttocks mostly. She aimed to wound and incapacitate without actually causing fatal wounds. She grabbed the marks belt and pulled backwards as she pushed the blades in to his flesh repeatedly. With each thrust of her shank she pulled the belt harder. This combined, flurry of attacks allowed her to pull the individual to the floor. Once he hit the floor she quickly started darting her hands in to his pockets, removing coin and possessions. 

With full hands, and things stuffed in to her baggy filthy clothing, she turned on her bare feet and sprinted down the alley. Leaving the mark rolling around in pain. 

Days later!

Mara walked out of her Fence's shop. She muttered angrily in Damarran and placed the coppers in to her tunic. She looked around a moment before heading to the nearest soup kitchen. 

[Sioladuil]

The wind screamed through the narrow alleys of Telflamm drowning out the sound of small feet hammering the road hard as a young child fled. She had a look of fear on her face and a sack of coin in her hand. She bounced off walls and fences as she turned corners, panting heavily, trying to reach the safe zone. 

As she came hurtling around the final corner she collided with a mass of meat and anger. She bounced off him, hitting the ground hard. The purse flew from her hand and coins scattered out across the ground. Each coin hitting the stone with a clink. She half sat up and started pushing herself backwards, her hands and feet working in unison, as she tried to distance herself from the individual in question. The male took a few steps forward and unfastened his belt. He slipped off that long, supple piece of leather and took a firm hold of the buckle. He wrapped it around his hand once as he began walking towards the prone child.

Mara began to panic, she looked around with fear in her eyes, and froze solid. She looked up at her soon to be attacker and gulped softly. With a quick roll she tried to get on to her feet. The unmistakable crack of leather rung through the air and Mara screamed in pain as the belt lashed across her back. She fell to her knees with a grunt and then that sound again. Twice, three times. Each connection resulting in a strangled scream. People who where in the area had quickly vanished. 

You are going to learn a lesson, Scum. You should not put your hands where they are not wanted. You think you can take /my/ coin without repercussion? Do you not know who I am? He snarled through his teeth. Slowly advancing on the sobbing child. He flicked his wrist again and spat anger as Mara narrowly avoided the contact. She quickly looked around and spun on her feet. As she attempted to run that belt came around her throat. She felt it tighten. Then she felt her breath pull tight. She raked her nails in to the belt as she tried to pull it loose. He was far to strong. She reached inside her tunic and removed her make shift shank. She gagged and gasped as she felt herself slowly starting to pass out. She fumbled with the shank, barely managing to turn it around, but she did, and then she shoved it in to his thigh. He howled in rage and pain, letting go of the belt. Mara fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air. The sound of a blade bouncing off the cobbles snapped her attention back to reality. She quickly scrambled to her feet and spun on her heel to face him. He was glaring at her, holding the wound in his leg. She snarled at him, full of anger, her throat already showing signs of swelling and bruising. She ran at him, full speed, and he screamed while throwing his free hand towards her. She managed to avoid the clumsy blow and, without realising, she had collected her shank. She collided hip first with the in his thigh, which forced out another loud scream of pain, before she had seen through the anger she had forced the shank in to the joint between his groin and thigh. She forced the blade up, twisted it, then pulled it out. Arterial blood roped across the stones as she backed away, looking horrified. He paled, his hands grabbing at the new wound in futility, it was to late. She had cut deep, it would be over soon. 

It took seconds for Mara to bring herself out of the horror of what she had just done. She looked around frantically and gulped as the faces of witnesses looked between him and her. He had now fallen to his knees. A puddle forming below him on the cobbles. She cried frantically before taking off through the alley system. 

Hours Later

Mara laid on her "bed", eyeing the blood on her shank and crying quietly to herself. Occasionally vomiting. She had pulled the "curtains" closed around her box, shutting herself off from the world. 

[Sioladuil]

There was a young female sat on a wall, throwing her gaze up and down the alley network. All she could see was cobbles, garbage and general waste from the local residents. "The Bits" where not her favourite of places but she had to make a living. She had a bandanna pulled up to cover her face from the eyes down which had a few sprigs of mint stuffed in it. This protected her from the stench. She had the markings of a local mob crudely marked across it but still wore it with pride. She was "tooled", which is a phrase used to describe someone who is bearing a lot of crude weaponry, and she had a make shift Shillelagh resting across her lap. Her fingers tapped against it idly as she waited. 

She was older now, not by much, but definitely a few years older that her appearance in the previous tales. She had outgrown her filthy box and she had earned a name for herself, graduating from mugging to a more organised way to earn a living. 

She was clean, well, cleaner than she had been previous and she did not reek of rats and filth. She had a cloak pinned loosely across her chest and a hood pulled up. Sh heard the patter of booted feet approaching her and she dropped of the wall, taking the Shillelagh with her. She nodded to her Crew and gave some of them a rudimentary, strange handshake which seemed to symbolise respect. They exchanged a few words and then T, the larger of the crew, grunted and began heading off through the alleys. Mara fell in line, knowing her place amongst these reprobates, and began to mentally prepare herself for what was coming. 

They entered a Bazaar like area... not one filled with all manner of eastern oddities and delights... but one filled with rudimentary, basic stuff that the peasants bought in bulk to help them get through the coming days. Some of the peasants looked panicked and began quickly exiting the area and some of the merchants just sighed and began taking out coin pouches. T made his way round the Bazaar, collecting the coin, and putting it away. Mara was having a snout about, looking at the various things on display, she pocketed a few minor things that took her eye and she eventually rejoined her Crew. 

A clatter and "woosh" sound was the first our merry band of reprobates knew something was going wrong. Mara spun around and saw a crossbow bolt sticking through Stripes' shoulder. He was on the floor, slowly backing away, uttering sequels of pain and surprise. T had yelled something, which was unheard, but it was loud enough to get Mara's attention. She looked up to T and then followed where he was pointing. A rival crew, who had been trying to muscle in on this racket, had appeared for some shenanigans. Mara sighed and quickly crossed the floor, joining her Crew. It started with just the verbal, the insults, threats and general unpleasantness being shouted across the Bazaar. The area had cleared. After the verbal came the small rocks. Then the larger rocks. Then the bottles. They where being launched by both sides towards their enemy. Mara dodged and weaved as best she could, mostly avoiding the badly aimed missiles, and she rocked on her feet while she waited for T's command. He would shout it when it was time. What felt like an eternity later, he shouted it. Mara and her Crew began charging at the other. The other Crew began charging Mara and her Crew. They clashed! 

Mara had noticed T go down and she was on him, dragging him to his feet, you couldn't let the Top Boy get done... that was just poor form. Once she had him lent against a wall she took a quick appraise of the situation. They where winning... a lot of the other Crew was bent up or sleeping. She stood with T, guarding him, he was the only rank still standing. She had no idea where Baker the Raker was... he might be down, he might of done one. No idea, she just focused on keeping T safe. Which was fairly easy as her Crew outnumbered the other. She had to whack a few people with her Shillelagh who got to close. Some where Merchants, some where combatants and some where just passing by. They should of known better. There was a shrill whistle followed by a cheer, the signal, the all clear. They had won, the racket was theirs still. Mara pulled T's arm over her shoulder as the Crew regrouped. Their wounded being carried, or dragged, and there was a moment of silent triumph. T then gave the nod and they headed back in to the alley network. 

DAYS LATER!

Mara stepped in to the Warehouse with a few nervous steps. He had summoned her, he never summoned her, he shouldn't even know who she is! But he had sent Stripes to get her. She looked around quietly like, nervous, assessing the exit points while she followed Stripes. There he was. Sat in the only chair in this damned Warehouse. It was positioned right in the middle, a singular beam of light coming through the cracked, dirty sky lights to illuminate him. He sat, crossed legged, in an expensive suit. His right ankle was over his left knee and he was sipping from a cup of tea. Where the hells had he got a brew from all the way out here? Better not ask. As they got close, Stripes nodded to him and then moved aside. Mara stood before him, head down, eyes on the floor. Her hands where clasped in front of her and she nervously twiddled her thumbs. 

Mara, isn't it?

She looked up and offered a hesitant nod. 

It is, Sir. 

He chuckled softly and appraised her slightly. 

The House of Masters has been watching you closely, Mara. 

She gulped and began looking around for an exit, sharpish. 

Mara, calm, if we had wanted to do you mischief we would have. You are not exactly... subtle... are you? He smiled again. This operation is one which is run by us, it is ours. We can not be seen to directly interfere. This is why we had T assemble this crew. He is under our employment, you see? So you are, by extension, which is why I am here. You have a knack for this line of work. You ensured your Leader, the Boss, was on his feet and safe despite the madness of your surroundings. This is commendable. Not many would have done. 

She looked up at him and nodded, growing more confident. 

A deal made is a deal honoured. He offered me protection if a worked with him, I agreed. 

He nodded and smiled again. 

We know. It was our idea to bring you in. You was just an Urchin when we started watching you. Do you remember the fat, fetid individual whom you dispatched?

Mara paled, swallowing a bit, shuffling uncomfortably. He chuckled, noting the movement.

He was somebody who stood against us, Mara, and he was causing quite a stir politically. You killed him, and without realising it, helped us. For that, we thank you. I am also about to return the favour.

He handed her a piece of paper which she looked over.

Go to that location tomorrow, the individual there is sympathetic to our cause and he will help fix those rotten teeth inside your head. 

DAYS LATER!

Mara exited an upper class house. She rubbed at her tender jaw with a wince and took one final look back at the house before heading out of the gates. She stopped in her tracks and went sheet white. He was there. He smiled and nodded to her. 

Is it done? 

She nodded and opened her mouth to reveal a set of golden lower teeth. He nodded and smiled. 

Good, good. Exactly as requested. 

Mara winced as she tried to speak, still managing to get the words out.

Why... wh... why Gold?

He chuckled softly, throwing an appraising look over her.

Two reasons, Mara. Firstly, always make sure you have enough gold to pay the Boatman. Secondly, status. Part of the secret, Mara, on how to run an operation like ours is status. You must obviously be someone of status, you have golden teeth.

She quirked an eyebrow slightly in confusion. 

But... I am not someone of status? 

He flashed her a wicked grin.

You just got a promotion, Lieutenant. We are moving you to a different area of the city. You have thirty days to put together a Crew. Then... well... then the real work begins.