RP:Serendipitous Servitude

Summary: Lanara is heading to a meeting with Skitch, a man that she believes owns a security firm, in hopes of using his services to help guide the Adventurer's Guild in their next big quest to Twister Island. Finding herself lost in the alleys of Cenril, she happens upon Tiber, who gives her directions and a warning that Skitch is sketchy. The witch finds herself in a jam as Tiber's warning proves correct, and the drug dealing vampire and his croons hold Lana captive and ready her for passage to Rynvale, where a 'buyer' is waiting for the arrival of his new elven slave. Meanwhile, the lycan follows his instinct and follows Lana and barges in and offers to purchase her for double what the other man is paying. The gold is exchanged, and Lanara is handed off to her new 'owner' after she plants a hex on Skitch. The two strangers, Lana and Tiber, have to keep up the facade of their slave arrangement for two weeks to satisfy the contract or face dire consequences.

Tiber had been in the shadows of an alleyway on Merchant Street. The man was discussing business with another shadowy figure. Wisps of smoke travelled through the alley. The two men were smoking cigarettes at their meeting and their voices were low. Eventually, the lycan slinks out between the two buildings into the sunlight. The human is clean-shaven and dressed in a blue-checkered button-up and slacks. His dirty blonde hair is well-kept in its short waves. The man flicks his bud to the side and smashes the ashes into the pavement while letting out his last puff of smoke. The other hand is tucking in a pouch full of coin. A few patrons would walk by—some avoiding while some staring—Tiberius would nod and carry on his way down the street of Cenril.

Lanara is bright eyed this morning, despite the fact that she was hosting a ball the evening before until the wee morning hours. One wouldn’t gather that she was up drinking, dancing, and dining, with the elite of the lands, all in hopes of gathering donations for her beloved animal sanctuary in Sage Forest. Ever the ambitious young lady, the petite elf is donning a navy skirt that ends modestly at the knee, a tucked in white blouse, and she holds a fancy briefcase in her hand. Deep chestnut locks end at her elbows and are worn pin-straight, silken to the touch, though her chocolate hues clearly warn anyone that wishes to get handsy with her well-tamed hair. She was on a business venture, of sorts, in hopes of meeting a contact that would provide the Adventurer’s Guild with some security detail for the up and coming trek to Twister Island. The seedy town of Cenril isn’t entirely welcoming, despite the beachfront background, and Lana finds herself somewhat dispirited as she’s turning around and looking from one shadowy alley to the next. Thankfully, a handsome male is walking her way from the opposite direction, and she greets Tiber with a warm smile, quirking a brow, and clearing her throat before inquiring, “Excuse me…? I’m looking for…” Holding a torn piece of parchment she narrows her eyes and reads off, “Skitch – A3… I think it’s an apartment or office of a security firm… I’m just following a tip from someone at the Whaler’s Bar…” Lifting her gaze, Lana peers up at Tiber from beneath impossibly long lashes, hopeful that the male would assist.

Tiber kept walking although the girl was hollering after him. His back faced her, but she was strong-willed, and she pulled out the parchment while blocking his view anyway. He took her in while briefly staring over her maybe too long. She was suited up in her business attire which intrigued him because he always respected firm women, but he would not let that show. “And you would believe some stranger at the Whalers?” He only had to smirk at the tidy woman. He did not answer her question; instead, eyes wandered towards another stick of a man who was investigating the conversation between the two. Tiberius straightened his six feet posture. The man lowered his voice towards the young lady. “Why you want to know about Skitch? Skitch is skitchy meaning sketchy. Lot of down low drug users wander around that place on the outskirts. Making deals. Robbin’ Cenril folk blind.” There was a heartbeat of a pause. “But I know it,” he says casually in his thick Catalian accent. He paused again while he glared down the overly pale man until the stranger’s eavesdropping, sunken eyes turned elsewhere. “Its further east of the Inn. Four buildings down, if I remember right.”

Lanara is delighted that Tiber pauses to acknowledge her presence, as he looks far less formidable than the other individuals in this part of town. His hair isn’t unkempt, his clothing matches, and he can afford a cigarette. All were signs that he wasn’t desperate enough to wrench her arm back and rob her of her gold, so she gathers. Yes, she was undeniably attractive, and it was common knowledge that she had the shapeliest derriere in the realm, but she didn’t think Tiber was desperate in that department, either. He is what most females, and even some males, would consider quite handsome, upon closer inspection. Being attacked from sheer lust was even less likely than being robbed. The elf tucks an errant strand of hair behind her slightly tapered ears and purses her lips, having not expected an inquiry in return. “I don’t want to know –about- him… Just his firm. I’m told that he owns a company of men that are trained in security measures. I need to hire some protection for a quest that my guild and I are going on in a few weeks…” She endures his scrutinizing stare as he takes in her business outfit, which is rather unusual attire for the woman, but when she was on her way to a business meeting she chose to look the part. However, she’d prefer casual wear or a bikini, any day, as they were much more comfortable. Unbeknownst to Lanara, there is a super sketchy male eavesdropping on their conversation, and as Tiber glares at him, she mistakes it for him being annoyed that she was foolish enough to take the word of a drunkard at the Whalers. “I know what you’re probably thinking, and you’re right… I was stupid to take the advice of someone who reeked of cheap booze and made up some tale so that I’d make good on my promise to have a drink with him tonight… But…” Licking her lips, she leans in, conspiratorially, “My friends are diehard adventurers and this trip we’re taking isn’t for the faint of heart… It wouldn’t hurt to have a few strong men on my side. It’s more a concern for those I look after…Not that I can’t handle myself, or keep an eye on everyone… It’s just that we will be preoccupied enough with all that’s going on, and we don’t need any surprises.” She is protective of those she loves, that much is obvious, and apparently she’s willing to risk a broken heel and getting shanked in the backstreets of town to meet a drug dealer who may or may not own a security company. “Thank you for the directions… I really appreciate it, Sir…” Feeling bashful now, she folds the paper in half and heads on her way, oblivious to the overly pale thug that slowly slinks through the shadows, aiming to stalk the young woman.

Tiberius honestly did have more money than the average man. He was a gambler, a good handy man for the dirty work, and a smooth talker. Tiber fixed amber eyes back on the woman as she spoke of Skitch. “His firm. Ah, yes. You mean his protective crew for a drug operator. Well, you certainly are going to have to do some persuading,” he looks her over again. “Perhaps unbutton part of your blouse,” he raised his brows at her with a stone-cold gaze. She had the right to be offended, but he was not wrong. Tiberius knew what she was getting herself into, or he used to know. As she blabbed on about the drunkard that would await her at the Whalers. “Simply stand him up. He won’t remember, I’m sure,” he now gave her a charming grin. As she spoke of adventure, the man had to bite back a laugh. An adventure crew, really? What a joke. He keeps his pipe shut and lets her have her heroic moment. As she tries to depart, he nods in response. “Good luck, you’ll need it,” he smirked and pulled out another cigarette to raise up at her in departure until… Sven. Eyes lingered on the woman as she left because derrieres, but the thin man comes back out of the shadows. “You have to be kidding me…” Damsels. Always the damsels. The wolf marches forward after the two making sure that the pale man does not do anything stupid today for his own sanity.

Lanara grinned at Tiber’s tip to undo some of the buttons on her blouse, in an effort to persuade the drug king-pin, amused by the notion. Whereas most women would be offended by such a crude choice of words, the elf doesn’t seem to be phased in the slightest. She was accustomed to others judging her solely based on her lovely exterior, though in truth she didn’t see what others saw, and she was much more than the mere beauty queen that everyone assumed. Lanara was far from a damsel in distress, though she did have a knack for finding trouble wherever she went, both a blessing and a curse for one who suffers wanderlust. So, continuing on her merry way in three inch heels which were rubbing against her ankles and making noisy clicks against the pavement, she remains oblivious that she now had two men in tow… One, a semi-albino vampire who wished to bring her harm, and the other a lycan that was either following her for adventure or as a means of neighborly protection. Coming upon the door that bore the marking of apartment A-3, Lana lifts her arm to rap at the door, and then thinks it best that she should undo the top three buttons, and she lowers her hand. “I don’t believe I’m taking the advice of –another- stranger in a shady area…” She mumbles, while fumbling with the top two buttons, deciding that it would still live plenty to the imagination. If it helped her cause, why not show a little more skin than was required? As her fingertips graze against the third button, the pasty skinned male that had been tailing her is all too close for comfort and wraps his skinny arm around her slender waist, his fangs a mere inch from her neck, as her back is forced against his body. He was –much- stronger than he looked, and Lana freezes, knowing that revealing she was a witch in these parts could prove to be a death sentence. Clenching her jaw, she stiffens in the embrace and brazenly turns her head to give him a sidelong glare, “What do you want? Let me go!” The male is on drugs, and likely suffering from bloodlust, based on the look in his eyes, and she feels the inkling of fear creep in as he speaks in a raspy tone, “Miss Lombada? No… That’s not it… Miss Lemonade? No…” He struggles to remember her name, as his sunken eyes focus on the silken area of flesh on the side of her neck, on that pulse that steadily beats and pumps the desirable crimson feast he wished to gorge on. Lana, meanwhile, is more offended that he referred to her as a style of dance, and then a tart beverage, than the fact that he was holding her against her will and ready to tear into her flesh. She stomps forcefully on the top of his foot, her stiletto heel piercing his boot and boring into the tender skin, as she tries to make her grand escape. The urge to call for help bubbles in her throat, but it’s then that his other pale hand reaches up to coil around her throat, in an effort to silence, as well as strangle. She shouldn’t have stopped to ask for directions or unbutton her blouse, she thinks, hoping those won’t be her final thoughts.

Tiberius flicks his non-lit cigarette to the side while he stalked the two. He followed them down for several blocks, and he was correct. The pale man was no good like every other person who settled in Cenril, including himself. Although Tiberius seemed friendly in the moment, he had a sick edge to him that people were too afraid to approach him if they knew his name. Tiberius Lowell was not the man to mess with. Horror stories. He watches from afar as the woman unbuttons some of her blouse, and he is trying to hide the twitch of an amused smile. He was not about the ditzy women, but he could have a laugh here or there with them. Lanara was off to a bad start with Tiber because of the thought of her stupidity. Not that she was not strong, but Tiber did not know if she was or not. As the vampire approaches the witch, he knew he had smelled something foul about the creep of a man. The vampire haywire, the blonde man takes out a pocketknife, flicks it open, and stealthily moves to point the edge in the vampire’s back, but not before moving his forearm between the vampires mouth and Lanara’s neck. He wraps his arm around the druggies neck in a chokehold. “Hey asshole, let her go… Now,” there was emphasis on the last word. “I will twist this into your spine, and then I will have my buddies and I tear you limb from limb. Even when you’re paralyzed.” The Catalian was stern and there was a lot of heat wafting from his body. The vampire knows what Tiber is. The stereotypes of wolf versus vampires are real, but Lanara would not know about Tiber unless the vampire spoke. Instead, the vampire is afraid due to the venom that will not work on Tiber. Though, vampiric blood will, but the wolf has the hold on him, so the vampire lets go due to the wigging out on drugs. The raspy voice speaks in struggle. “Okay man, okay, not a big deal, not a big deal. I won’t touch her—“ he cuts off while Tiberius throws him backwards onto the pavement. The Catalian hovers over him in his tall stature. “Leave.”

Lanara is contemplating whether or not she should wield her magic in such a public setting when she hears the voice of Tiber, and feels the vampire loosen his grip from around her throat and waist. Relief shines in those chocolate hues as she spins on her heel and witnesses the brute strength that Tiber seems to possess as he hurls her assailant easily to the pavement and goes into a warning post. The blonde didn’t appear to be all that tough to the witch, as he seemed slender and non-confrontational; at least when they met minutes ago he seemed that way. But she knew that there must be corded muscle beneath his checkered shirt and the way he carried himself with an air of assurance led her to believe this wasn’t his first scuffle, far from it. The vampire scoots back on his rear, his palms lifted in surrender, as he stutters and stammers his way through an apology to the lycan, not wanting things to escalate any further. “Thank you…” Lana mutters, still not knowing the name of her rescuer, though she wouldn’t have the time to ask as the door opens behind her and a familiar face peeks out. It was him! The drunk from the Whaler’s Inn that had given her the tip to this location! Narrowing her eyes on the male, she’s about to tell him off when he interrupts, “Miss Lanara, we’re so pleased you could make it! Just this way, my dear, just this way! Skitch doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” The witch hesitates, seeing as the man was oddly sober and speaking in a pleasant tone, meaning he was either playing the part days before, or now. With Tiber and the vampire to her back, she’s ushered forward and into the decrepit looking building, though as she aims to close the door, she leaves it a half-inch ajar, should anything else go wrong this morning. Her eyes adjust to the dimly lit room and she finds that she’s surrounded by four men, the heavyset male at the head of the table likely being Skitch. They lock eyes and he motions for two of the men to frisk Lana for weapons while he beckons the tip-off guy with a crooked finger. Each male brandishes a fanged grin and Lana pales, realizing she’s walked right into their trap, though she can’t quite bite her tongue as she’s groped from every angle and she snaps at the two males, “Hands off the merchandise. I don’t have any weapons on me. And if you grab my ass one more time…” Her words trail off as the warning hangs in the air, and it’s the outburst of raucous laughter from Skitch that causes his three goons and the witch to snap to attention. “You really are something else, Lanara! It’s almost a damn shame that we can’t keep you for ourselves! You’re from Kelvar, yes? I know all about your exotic breed. Full-blooded elves, with dark features, curves for days, and those ears that are knife-cut, but not oddly freakish. The way I understand it, there’s only two of you left, eh? You and a sister? Well… My buyer only wants you, and the way I see it, there’s no one stopping me now. Your wolf boyfriend disappeared a while ago and we’ve been waiting for the coast to clear so we could snatch you. Boys….” The two men tie Lana’s hands behind her back, and she curses, aiming kicks at their knees and trying to free herself, though it’s to no avail. She was a witch, not a warrior. She could cast magic, but in hand-to-hand combat she was doomed. Thinking it best to keep them talking, she glares at Skitch, “So you had to wait for Eirik to vanish, is that it? You vampires are afraid of the big bad wolf? Couldn’t handle a little thing like me, all by your pathetic selves?” Skitch laughs again, amused by the petite woman, and he motions for the three men to ‘ready the cage’ for easier transport to Rynvale. Meanwhile, Lanara is working up a spell beneath her breath to undo the ropes that bound her wrists. She was not up to being a slave, not today, not ever. She also hopes that Tiber has everything under control outside and that he doesn’t wander in and get himself killed.

Tiber figured that it was easy for the man to scram, and it was an easy victory. He was not the big bad hero all the time, but he could knock a few heads if he tried. The door is open, and Lanara is being scuffled in and he almost turns his way to leave her be, but his instincts tell him to stay outside until she is back out. The wolf had his run in with Skitch a while back. The wolf was loyal and kept his word due to repayment because Skitch had done what the wolf had asked him to do for a price. That was how things worked around here unless you were a flat out asshole. The door was inched open and Tiber slid to the other side to eavesdrop on the conversation while casually crossing his arms. He was turning into to some sort of protective snob, but he could not help it. Skitch was sketchy. People came out with a price after leaving door A-3. It was not too long until he heard the man say something about breeds and slavery. What was with slavery these days? C’mon. Tiberius was officially going to regret the day he walked back into Skitch’s office. The lithe man slowly moves the door where it would not creak while the men were talking. Tiber had everything under control outside, but he had this thing where he always sentenced himself to death row. He hides in the shadows of the corner by the door where he sees Lanara bound behind her back. On Lanara’s cue of talking about the big bad wolf, he steps into the light where Skitch and the men could see him. Skitch looks up from his doing and flashes one of those disgustingly, overly fanged grins. “Speaking of the big bad wolf. Tiberius Lowell, such an honor to see you back into –my- doors.” Tiberius stood straight while hands twitched at his sides. The knife was gone from his grip. “Cut the crap, Skitch. We all know you missed me,” he grinned. “But… unfortunately for you, you have something that I want,” he shrugged as he was gesturing for the witch. He was stalling; furthermore, he saw Lanara trying to unbind herself from the rope. Why did he do these silly things to himself?

Lanara nearly finishes the unbinding spell when the stranger enters the office, at the cue of ‘big bad wolf’ and were she to know that he were a lycan, she would have grinned at the irony of such a statement. Skitch seems amused by the appearance of Tiber, though his eyes dangerously flash with malice as the male dares to challenge him, and then say that he wants Lanara. Apparently the sales pitch of a rare type of elf was drawing in customers from all angles, and seeking an opportunity for an alliance, Skitch rises from the table and paces back and forth. The men in the next room are bickering over how to assemble the silencer onto the cage, which would prevent the use of magic from within, and Lana resumes weaving her craft and focusing on the ropes. She gives a sidelong glance to Tiber, curious as to whether he was here on a rescue mission or if he truly wished to purchase her as some sort of elven slave. She didn’t know the two had nefarious dealings in the past, nor did she know if they were in cahoots. For now, she’s suspicious of all those involved, and she’s wishing she had turned tail after the vampire attacked her in the alley. Skitch idly rubs his chin, his dark gaze trailing from the woman to the lycan, and he chuckles, before pointedly fixing his attention on Tiber. “Well, I’m sorry to say this, Tiberius… But she’s already sold… She does have a little sister, feral looking thing… All skin and bones and unruly curls. I may be able to capture her and give you a good deal. From what I hear, she’s the friendlier of the two, and she does have a bigger bosom. But if you’re here for –this- handful…” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, as if to say it’s out of his hands, she’s been offered to the highest bidder. His nonchalant attitude about slavery mixed with the insults that he directed at her little sister is all the shove that Lana needs to complete her spell, and a minute later, the rope unties from around her slender wrists, and she grabs the rope quickly, so it doesn’t fall to the floor and make a sound. The three goons slide a metal cage into the room and aim to approach the elf, though Skitch lifts his hand in a dismissive gesture, as if to delay putting the woman behind bars. “Wait a minute, fellows. We have a guest. You know him… Tiberius Lowell. He wants our little lady, over here, and I’m trying to see how we both can profit.” He hems and haws to himself, drumming his knuckles against the desk, before looking Tiber in the eye, “I can’t just cancel on her buyer. However… If you’re willing to pay DOUBLE what he offered, that would ease my troubles and we both get what we want. The price is-“ The last few words hang in mid air as Lana springs into action and uses the rope as a whip, violently lashing the top of the desk and stinging the top of Skitch’s meaty hand. “I’m –priceless- and you are going to pay dearly for this!”

Tiber saw the sidelong glance from Lanara out of his peripheral, but he was smart enough to keep his eyes locked on Skitch. Tiberius knew that if he got into this mess, he would be bound to Skitch for quite a time, but he was not about to leave a woman being sold to a slave trade. He was not that awful of a person. Awful, but not that awful. “Skitch, Skitch, Skitch,” he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “You and I both know you can make me a bargain,” pause. “And you and I both know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want lady Lanara specifically,” this is when he looks at Lanara with a cautious gaze with a flat line of a mouth to not give away that he was actually trying to help her. With slavery always comes freedom and Tiber would easily let her go after a little time had passed. His amber hues fix on the man again. “Double? Really? How much are we—“ Lanara snaps the desk and Tiberius widens his eyes. He almost wants to face palm himself, but he stands strong and watches the two interact. “Feisty. You can see why I want her,” he begins to chuckle until he nears Lanara to quickly reach out for her other free hand. If she did not see it coming, he would yank her behind his back and away from the men that start to charge towards her, so she can possibly near the door. He would not know what to do yet after that. I guess he would see. Skitch would begin to turn red with fumes. “I knew you were always a snake, Lowell!”

Lanara locks eyes with Tiber, sensing that he’s playing the role of a sinister slave owner, and that she’s supposed to go along with this ploy. It’s all a façade, as the male is attempting to be her hero. The reason for this, she cannot fathom, but she’s leaving it all up to fate from this moment on. As he calls her feisty and claims he has to have her, she narrows her eyes in a glare and scoffs, as if it’s the most ludicrous statement she’s ever heard. “I will not belong to any man or woman. I will kill you in your sleep, Mister Lowell!” She could, in fact, kill him while he slumbers, but she’s merely living up to the ruse, as she hurls herself onto the desk and latches onto Skitch’s head. His lightly balding head feels slimy to the touch, though she grasps what she seeks, which are a few strands of graying hair, before Tiber grabs her hand and yanks her back. The door remains ajar; her vision of a safe haven resting beyond the threshold, however the pale vampire that has assaulted her earlier appears, blocking the exit. The odds weren’t in their favor, this she summed up, as she counts Skitch, his three henchmen, and a bloodthirsty vampire, versus a blonde male with unknown intentions, and a pretty elf doomed for a life of slavery. Trapped, she curses beneath her breath and watches as Tiber and Skitch discuss her future, as though she were some desirable piece of art being auctioned off to the highest bidder. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, as Skitch glares at her, red-faced, and fuming that she pulled his hair and whipped his hand with the rope, “Lowell, you snake! If you really want this little bitch, you can have her… For fifty thousand gold! I can hold her for three hours, no more. Go get the gold and she’s all yours. Put her in the cage before you go, I won’t have her playing hairdresser with my men!” Lana lifts her head, those soulful brown eyes practically begging Tiber to rescue her, like a broken puppy at the pound. However, the words that exit her mouth are laced with survival as she leans in to speak in a hushed whisper while Skitch yells for parchment for a new contract. “Don’t. Just… Don’t put yourself in danger. Tell him you are going to the bank to see if you can come up with the gold. It buys me three hours to work up a hex and figure something out. Don’t come back with the gold; don’t come back at all… After three hours, Skitch will assume you backed out or couldn’t come up with the gold. I’ll… I’ll be fine.” Lanara waits for Skitch to lift his head, and for Tiber to make his decision on the matter. If the lycan is to put her into the dreaded cage, she would calmly surrender, and slip the few strands of hair into the pocket on her blouse.

Tiber almost wants to laugh as the woman tears at the man’s balding hair. He enjoyed a good cat fight, but he bites back to keep his title. Launching her back was not the best idea. “Stay away, asshole. Who invited you?” He is talking about the thirsty vampire he had tried to kick to the curb earlier. As Skitch mentions the money amount to Tiberius, the lycan almost hurls. Fifty thousand gold pieces? For a girl? That was a good portion of savings at the bank. Not to forget Tiberius was a secretly wealthy man, but he was not about to pay that much, or was he? He listens to her faint voice and listens to her escape plan. She had to be joking, he was definitely going to come back to make sure she was not still locked in a cage. He eyes her and his eyes darken a bit. Swirls of gold reflect Skitch’s gaze. “You have a deal. Give me three hours, but I need your word: you do not let anyone lay a hand on her until I am back. If I hear that this grimy piece of low life filth lays a hand on her, I will cut off his hands,” the Catalian is calm and collected as he speaks of his gory details. Skitch does not blink an eye, Skitch believes in the wolf and nods in return. Tiberius Lowell was not one to mess with, and Skitch surprisingly knew this, but Skitch also was not a man to deal with either. Skitch had more power than Tiber due to his allies, and the wolf was smart not to mess with that. The blonde man looks towards Lanara with another stern gaze that is trusting before he says his final command. “Put her in the cage while I’m gone,” he almost looks apologetic, but it is so quickly vanished that no one would be able to see it accept possibly her. “Start the time,” he says with husk and he pivots to shove past the starving drugged-up vampire. He disappears. He would be back.

Lanara swallows hard when Tiber agrees to the plan, hoping that he wasn’t actually serious about returning with the gold. He just had to make this look good. No need to play the role of a hero for a mere stranger. She had gotten herself into this… And she’d either get herself out of this situation, or she’d die trying. Her eyes remain glued to the exit as Tiber leaves, wishing that she could follow, but that was the last second of her freedom, as she’s roughly grabbed and shoved into the cage. The first hour passes mostly in silence, however Skitch and the vampire can’t seem to tear their eyes from the cage, as though Lana would somehow pass through the bars and free herself, or fall through a hole in the floor. She’s used to being stared at by men, though the way the thirsty vampire is eyeing her, leaves Lana more than a little uneasy. Finally, one of the three goons brings in a few bottles of bloodwine and a platter of cookies and they all hang out and snack, making small talk. Thankfully, it provides enough distraction that the witch can set to work, and so she withdraws the strands of hair from her pocket and rests them in her palm. Her dark eyes peer up every few seconds, to make certain she’s not being watched, as she delves her nails forcefully into the thin area of her wrist, hard enough to draw blood, and she coats the strands of hair in her own life’s force. Lana concentrates hard, thinking of the perfect hex to place on Skitch, and she knows that though this cage is silenced… The minute she’s free, her hex can fully be put into motion! The way she figures it, the second the door is open she will spring free, say the final words to engage the spell, and she will make a mad dash to safety. And if Tiber should return… Well, she couldn’t afford to pay him back the fifty thousand gold that was for sure. He would have full ownership of her, and she could give him membership into her adventure guild and maybe a pet from the sanctuary, or something. Looks would only get her so far, and she wouldn’t be the best slave. Sure, she had the elven heritage down pat, but she wasn’t exactly domesticated. Lana enjoyed her freedom, the outdoors, mischief, and she suffered from sheer wanderlust. How could she ever be someone’s property?! Then again, maybe Tiber didn’t want her to play the role of a slave; maybe he just wanted to save her from a life of servitude. If that was true… Lana would pretend to be his slave, live with him for a week or so, become his full time shadow, and allow him to boss her around in public. He would, of course, have to attend her dance classes, guild meeting, and spend time with animals, and she’d have to do whatever it was that he often did on a daily basis. They’d keep up the façade for as long as it took Skitch to come crawling back, begging Lana to undo the curse, and maybe he’d even give Tiber his gold back! The witch finishes up her preparations for the hex, knowing that the rule of three wouldn’t apply here, as it was a means of survival, and self-defense, and she closes her eyes and rests her head against the cage. The three hour mark was nearing, much faster than she had anticipated, and Skitch begins to pace around the room, every so often casting a glare at Lana. His cohorts toss cookies through the bars and the vampire dumps bloodwine on her head, causing the woman to remain awake. She glares at Skitch as he shouts at her, “You! Missy! I bet your heart is beating real fast, huh? You’re going to be so disappointed when you’re little boyfriend doesn’t come back! That Tiber didn’t have it in him to be a slave owner… But your new master?! Oh! He’s going to LOVE you! Don’t worry; he will be careful not to skin you alive like the last woman that didn’t follow her orders…” His voice trails off as he eyes his pocket watch, grinning, “Two more minutes!”

Tiber was almost sick when he trudged through the doors of the bank. This chick was worth fifty thousand gold? He might have just puked. It would not be too hard to get the money back depending on who he went to for service. He just had to remember that he would have to be diligent with his coin for a while. Maybe he could steal a few coin pouches for a while to reimburse himself while he planned a way to decapitate Skitch for his money back. It was not a joke. Tiber was not one to mess around. Why was he doing this for a young woman who was a stranger? Not for looks, although she was gorgeous. Perhaps the slave industry was just itching under his skin to put an end to. Slavery was sick and Tiber was a sick dude. So the time ticked and Tiber would have to go through multiple people to see his fortune. No one would just give coin on the spot so quickly. He knew he had to fill out paper work and sit in a meeting or two to get his money the trustworthy way, so meanwhile, on the otherside of Lanara’s trauma, sat Tiber with his chaotic whits. “Why do you need the money so quickly, Mister… Lowell, is it?” Tiber would put his head almost between his knees in a dramatic act, he made his hands shake on purpose. “My… my uncle Semore, he got into a terrible accident,” he shook his head in disbelief. “He needs a specific procedure to help him survive, but they will not help them unless I have the money. He got mauled on the outskirts of Cenril by some sort of beast,” he looks up with his amber gaze. “We don’t have any sort of medical, so I need this money. It’s what my father would of wanted for his brother.” Two fingers held the bridge of his nose as if he was about to cry. Tiberius Lowell, everyone. What a joke. Though, the lady behind the counter with the pushed up chest started to grab some tissues. “Oh, Mr. Lowell, I sincerely apologize, let me just run these files through for you!” Once the meeting was over and the money was being put within his briefcase that he snagged before he marched to the bank, he would shake the hand of the lady behind the desk. “You’re gracious, truly a blessing. How can I ever thank you?” And you know how all the swooning goes, it is disgusting how well he can put on a show. Tiberius still does not run when he has the money, the man stays cool and collected as he fixes the collar on his button-up. A business man, indeed. “Two more minutes!” he would hear outside the door of Skitch and the man would slowly walk in. “Don’t get too happy, you ass.” His brows furrowed as he would slink in with shoulders back. “I got your gold… now let go of the girl,” he would open the briefcase and balance it on his forearm. The gold would shine in the heavy case. He was not bluffing. He made no eye contact with Lanara… He would get his revenge eventually with Skitch. He knew he would.

Lanara stifles a cough as the pungent aroma of grapes mixed with blood assaults her nostrils, and she tightly crosses her arms over her chest, trying to mask the crimson stains on her fancy white business shirt. It was ruined. So was her life, if she didn’t think fast. The witch is about to start violently banging against the bars and demanding her freedom when Tiber strolls into the room holding a heavy case. The lycan didn’t follow directions. He had staked his life for a mere stranger, and brought the gold to boot. Lana tilts her head to the side, completely caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. There was more to Tiberius Lowell than met the eye, of this she was certain. He had acted on his own will, his heroism shining for the room to see, and if she weren’t covered in cookie crumbs and gore, she would have dashed into his arms and gave him a far from chaste kiss for saving her legendary ass. However, Skitch has other plans, and so there would be no kiss or heartfelt thank yous, as he motions for the trio of men to retrieve the case and count the gold in the back room. He was a businessman after all, and the sale of a pretty elf would go no further, if all the promised coin wasn’t present. The trio takes over an hour to count the gold, and then they recount it just to make sure, while the vampire guards the backroom. He’s still eyeing Lana, though not as hungrily as before, though the blood wine dripping down her cleavage is enticing all the same. The witch can sense Tiber’s annoyance at having to drop that much coin on her, and she’s both grateful and ashamed. Why was he avoiding her gaze? Her chocolate hues flick to Skitch as he clears his throat and offers a piece of parchment to Tiber, his tone demanding the attention of all of those gathered, as he reads, “This bill-of-sale is proof that you, Tiberius Lowell, have paid in full, a fee of fifty thousand gold coins for the purchase of Lanara, as your elven slave. She is to be in your company at all times, for the next two weeks, to ensure that she was purchased for the usage agreed to in this contract. If she is found to be on her own, she must have a permission slip, signed and dated by you, and detailed as to the type of mission that she’s on with your leave. If there’s no slip, she is to be brought back to my headquarters and she will receive thirty lashings, and you will have to pay a fee of another ten thousand gold to reclaim your property. If it happens a second time, she’s considered a ‘surrender’ and she goes up for sale to the next highest bidder.” There’s a pause as he gives Tiber time to let this all sink in, before he motions for the men to unlock the cage. Two weeks of pretending to be a slave? It could be worse… Though, if her hex works its magic, Lana knows that they will be rid of this arrangement in half of that time! “Yeah. Sounds fantastic. Can’t wait to be a slave.” Crawling out of her confines, she stretches her arms, and bends at the waist, waiting for the blood to rush back to her limbs. Being cramped in a cage for four hours was hell, and it also gives her a few minutes to walk closer to Tiber and the exit, before she delivers her curse. Finally, Lana regains control of her body, and she opens her hand, revealing the dried drop of blood and the few strands of hair, lying atop her palm. A sinister smile is given to Skitch as she narrows her gaze, “Skitch, Skitch, Skitch. It’s time you’re bested by a Witch. You dared to tango with what you don’t know, and so it’s time I unleashed my own blow. As time goes on, you will see it’s all a waste… No longer will you hear, see, smell, feel, or taste. You will lose things that you once held dear, and know that the shadows are always near. This hex follows you wherever you roam, it can’t be reversed, unless you die or I undo it, first. As above, and so below, the powers beneath answer my call, I know. In self-defense, I am safe from effect of three, as I speak it, so mote it be!” Pursing her lips, Lana blows the glob of hair and gore from her palm and it’s taken by a sudden gust of wind so forceful that the door slams shut. The men all exchange a nervous glance, before Skitch throws his head back and laughs, thinking this were all some big joke. “She’s a winner, this witch! Lemme tell you that! You’ll have your hands full and be begging us to take her back, Tiber! Good luck!” Shaking his head, Skitch extends a hand to the lycan, intent on sealing the deal with a shake. Lana glares at Skitch and exits the apartment. She was so done with that group of men and she was exhausted and dehydrated from being in a cage for half the day. Leaning against the wall, she wipes her hands on her skirt and waits for Tiber to come outside.

Tiber kept his tall stature like stone for the whole hour. He did not move. He kept his arms across his chest until he waited for the idiots to count his loot. The silence was nerving to anyone who looked at Tiberius’ stern and cold gaze. He was beyond furious about where he was investing his coin. With some random chick he met on the side of the street. One that he had yet to meet formally at all. The men came out of the back room and the wolf finally moved his chin with a low…was that a growl? It was hard to tell. He was a mystery. There was a lot to him that no one knew except Nadine, but the close relatives were another story. “Got it,” was all he said. He was not going to waste his breath. The man would have shook his hand, but Tiber did not play that dirty. Instead, he would pivot and face the witch that was now putting a hex on the man who threw her in a cage. Tiberius had never witnessed such a weird thing. He had never seen a witch, but he had heard of the horrors in Larket. Once Skitch began to laugh at the woman’s rhyme scheme spell, Tiber would raise his brows in amusement. “Sounds like you need the luck,” he mimicked. He was very sarcastic. He then would move out of the door where Lanara would lean against the wall. He would start walking down the street nonchalantly like nothing happened and like she did not exist to him. Once he got about a few minutes into the walk, whether she followed or not, he would turn around on her. Golden eyes would blaze and his nostrils would flare a little. “Listen here, I’m not about to let some witch do anything kooky and spooky to me, you hear? I saved your damned life, you got it? Looks like you’re stuck with me for two weeks, and during those two weeks, you are going to figure out how to get my money back or else I will throw you in the odd hole that has water in it and make you melt,” his voice was husky and his accent was abnormally thick with his Catalian roots. Part of his speech was sarcasm, but part of it was real. It was all the frustration of the situation. It was hard to tell, but the lightness began to come back into his amber hues. “Now, ready to eat?” His voice became more subtle and casual and he began to stroll forward again.

Lanara lifts her head as Tiberius exits the building and opens her mouth to thank him for coming to her aide, when he strolls past without even giving her a glance. She’s hesitant to follow, but if she doesn’t follow, both of their lives are on the line, so she waits until he’s a good twenty feet ahead before she trails after. He’s taller and so his strides are much bigger than hers, and she has to take two large steps for his every one, and she scowls, hating how mismatched they were, as a faux-master and a damsel-slave. All she knew was his name and that he was wealthy! Thinking she’d tried to make the best of this, Lana kicks off her heels, carries them in one hand, and quickly jogs to catch up with Tiber. He turns abruptly and she catches herself in time, so she doesn’t chest bump him, and the hatred in his amber gaze is enough to still her every movement. She inhales at his tone, sensing the regret he feels for wasting his coin on her rescue, and she flinches as though he raised a hand and was ready to strike. There was no need, as his words had struck her enough, and she takes a step back and hugs her heels to her stain-soaked chest. Unbidden, tears brim in her eyes, though she refuses to let them fall before this stranger. He was not a witch sympathizer, that much was obvious, and his threat was idle, as witches didn’t actually melt. But the vehemence in that tone and glare… He meant it. Why did it hurt her feelings? Lana wasn’t some weak woman who cried over spilt milk! After a moment, he offers a meal, and she nods, numbly accepting. She walks alongside of him, barefoot, and silent for the remainder of their walk, and she’s almost relieved when they come to a quaint eatery in a much safer section of Cenril. Slipping her heels onto her feet, she buys a cheap cardigan to wear over her stained blouse from a street vendor, and finger combs her long locks. Gazing into the window of the eatery, she studies her reflection and makes sure she looks presentable before turning to face Tiber, “Thank you for what you did back there, I really appreciate it… You didn’t have to do that, but I just hope you know that I am grateful. And I’ll stay out of your hair as much as you want… You can send me away all the time on errands, I’m an excellent cook, I can give you dance lessons, I can clean your house, whatever, I guess… But… I am a pretty busy woman and well-known, and I don’t want either of our covers blown over this… So you will have to accompany me to my animal sanctuary, at least once, so I can say I’m on vacation or something… And I am leaving right before our two weeks is up, with my guild… We’re heading to Twister Island, and we’re fighting a storm, filled with, uh, sharks… So, you’re now a member of the Adventurer’s Guild.” She pauses, hoping he didn’t plan on using her for any of his night pleasures, or entertaining his friends. “I’ll be the perfect little sidekick, I’ll do anything you ask and go to whatever daily events you attend, but I’m not sleeping with you, and I won’t do –anything- that involves snakes. I’m terrified of serpents.” There, that will tell him, she thinks, before motioning to the eatery. “So… We’ll keep up appearances, for ourselves, the public, and Skitch and his goons. And in two weeks, you can forget all about me, and I’ll hopefully have your gold.” Another pause, as she narrows those heartbreak hues on the Catalian, her tone stronger, “And you have no reason to fear me, I don’t dabble in dark magic. That was only done in an effort to free myself of their ties and to offer protection. It’s also the first time I ever hexed someone. However, harm an animal in my presence, and I can’t guarantee that I will take it lightly.” She grins, half-jesting, “Let’s go get to know each other a little better, okay? We need to go over our schedules and stuff and I’m starving.”

Tiber is not big into wishy washy behavior. It makes him feel uneasy and uncomfortable. Her hesitant behavior is what he needed from her at this moment. He needed her to know that she made a stupid mistake going into Skitch’s office. As she thanks him, he keeps his tall posture and keeps a small distance from her. “I did.” His tone was eager to prove her wrong. “I did need to do that, Lanara,” he says her name for the first time, and he is oddly sincere. He had mood swings from time to time. “The only thing I need you to do is stay by me or let me know when you need your free time.” Amber eyes fell stale on the woman when he mentioned him sleeping with her. What a thought, but he was not that victimizing. “I don’t force woman to sleep with me, I prefer that they like me in the same way, yeah? Consent,” he looks her figure up and down before fixating his gaze forward. They come to the eatery and he pauses outside of the door with her. His gaze is not on her, it is in the window and he is staring at a couple within the window. Her words are a blur and he knows that she is going to have to reflect on things when time goes by in the next two weeks. This was going to be a hassle. A girl actually living with him, how annoying. Her strong tone makes his eyes land on her. “I don’t fear you. I don’t fear witches. But I do fear the thought of my senses being taken away, that is all I have,” and it was true. He would not be a lycan if it was not for senses. He then nods, the Catalian had a cool gaze on her. “Get anything you want, it’s on that couple right there,” he points a thumb in the window at the couple eating in the window. He then opens the door for the woman. “Ladies first,” this was going to be a hellacious two weeks.