It had been weeks, how many she couldn't tell.

They'd thrown her in a small room and locked the door, only opening it to violate her or throw her their scraps of food. She instinctively curled into herself on the hard mattress of the bed as she heard them returning from whatever it was they'd left to do. There were six men in what she had figured was a band of thieves, though she wasn't sure two of them were men. One had long pointed ears and the other- the other was a monster. He was bigger than the rest and a dark green color. His skin was hard and he had large pointed teeth that protruded grotesquely from his lower lip. In her right mind, she might have placed them in a fantasy movie but their brutality had quickly banished any thoughts aside from keeping her heart beating.

Her initial resistance was crushed when the monster had made it clear he had no reservations in bruising her to submission. She'd been so delirious she could have sworn the pointed-eared one had used some sort of healing light. She no longer questioned where she was, she no longer reacted to their depravity, she no longer prayed. She laid in her prison staring at the grooves of the rock wall until a shadow engulfed her, whether in the form of a man or pure exhaustion. When she did sleep, her dreams were ash and fire.

She stiffened when she heard a harsh yell. There were strange unearthly noises along with the sounds of the men pulling out their weapons. She heard them taunting and roaring battle cries.

"Never should have come here!"

She sat up then. Someone was attacking! A flicker of hope sparked in her chest at the thought of being rescued. It quickly sputtered when she realized that no one would be looking for her, for all she knew it was a rival gang for whom she would be the spoils. She scooted back to the corner of the mattress, folded her knees to her chest, and waited. After a few minutes, the room outside went quiet. She wondered if the attackers had won. If they had maybe they would just leave and not see her.

Her heart stopped as the handle of the door creaked. The door swung open and a man she did not recognize walked in, bloody sword at the ready. She sat frozen, eyes wide with terror. He wore the same leather and exoskeleton armor as some of the thieves, only he had a matching set complete with a helmet and red cloth over his face so that it was completely obscured. He paused when he saw her, but quickly recovered and canvassed the room for any hiding enemies. It looked as if his left hand was surrounded by wisps of fire but before she could even try to comprehend that it extinguished and he turned to her, his sword lowered slightly.

"The men outside are dead." His voice was deep, and a little grainy. "You have the look of a prisoner, you are free now."

Her mouth gaped as she relaxed her knees, stretching out slowly toward the edge of the bed, marveling at this man's even stranger accent. Where her captors had slurred their words together into something vaguely European, he enunciated with lazy vowels and an exotic lilt she'd definitely never heard. She jumped back when another man entered the room, this one in an imposing set of blood-spattered armor that looked to be made of the bones of a large creature. She could see his face in his helmet, and blonde hair peeking out of the edges. He appeared to be a normal man, though still incredibly large.

"Who's this, then? A captive?" He heaved a sigh and gentled his voice. "Poor lass, where're you from?"

"I- I'm not sure how to answer that." Tears filled her eyes as she looked from one man to the other. "Does Chicago mean anything to either of you?"

They glanced at one another and she could tell by the look on the blonde man's face that the answer was no. Just then, yet another man shouldered into the increasing small-feeling room. This one wore gleaming black armor with delicate-looking swirls etched into the surface. His angular helmet covered his face completely, framed by sharp fins on each side reminding her of the pointed eared bandit. "Who are you talking to...oh", his question died on his lips as he saw what Vanya knew was a rather pathetic sight.

The blonde man then confirmed her fears. "I've never heard of that, is it a country? What'd you say again? Shicarro?"

"Chicago. But never mind, what is the nearest city?"

"Raven Rock," the man in the red scarf answered. "You should be able to find a room at the Retching Netch."

She made a face at the name. "The what?"

At her reaction, the man in black armor chuckled. "I told you it was an awful name, Teldryn."

"And I told you that I didn't name it," the man called Teldryn replied testily.

"Enough Erik," the blonde man chided as one would a child. "Go and collect anything of value from this worthless lot." It was clear to Vanya that he was the leader of the group. He turned his attention back to her. "The name aside, you go there and find a room and a hot meal and put all this behind you."

She stood up gingerly and straightened out the over-sized shirt she wore as a dress, a small kindness that the pointed eared man had bestowed upon her after she'd lain naked for a few days. "Thanks...I'll do that." She pushed her dirty, matted brown hair from her face and looked around her pathetically as the two men turned toward the door.


Teldryn glanced back at the mysterious woman before exiting and though he knew the answer he felt compelled to ask, "Do you know the way to Raven Rock?"

She blinked up at him with watery eyes. "No, are you going that way?"

"No," he said, but with the mournful look on her face he found himself speaking without thinking, "but I could escort you. We have business elsewhere but it's really Roggir's business, I can catch him up." The relief that swept over her body somewhat alleviated the personal outrage that was flaring at himself at the thought of inconveniencing his new employer.

"Thank you, oh, thank you." She took a few steps forward as she spoke. He leaned away and gave a curt nod before turning to tell Roggir what he'd just promised. This was going to cost him, he'd go back in time and undo it if he could. What was he thinking? She was just an unfortunate prisoner to bandits, not unlike some he'd seen before. But when he'd looked into her dark brown eyes, something was different. His curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Just as he'd expected, Roggir was not pleased with the delay. "I need you to meet me at sundown, so make haste," he said sharply.

"I'll be there, serjo."

At the formality, Roggir waved him off. "Ah, I know you're good for it. Just didn't take you for such a soft heart."

"I'm not...usually."

"Right. well, since you'll be right there collect the bounty for these scumbags if you would."

"Consider it done. I'll see you at the Water Stone"

Roggir and Erik set out soon after, taking the haul of scavenged goods. Teldryn returned to the atrium of the cave to see the girl wandering the room slowly, looking at the picked-over corpses of her captors. He vaguely wondered if Roggir had just made off with any of her valuables.

"Are you prepared?" he interrupted.

She turned to him with a strange look in her eye. "Where's the green one?"

"The orc? I beheaded him just up there." He pointed to a raised area where the orc's body lay on the other side of a table. She quickly made her way toward it and looked upon the scene with a peculiar mix of horror and satisfaction. Then she spit on it, taking Teldryn by such surprise he almost laughed.

She turned and opened a small satchel he had not noticed before and began stuffing it with food from the table, taking bites periodically. Finally, she grabbed a bottle of wine and with a bottle in one hand and an over-full bag in the other she approached him. "Ready."

Her visage struck him as so absurd that now he did laugh, though he suppressed it quickly as she looked down self-consciously. "I don't have money, I figured I should stock up."

"I understand, it's just...never mind...Let us be going, I am pressed for time."