Proletariat
Hater
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"Upstairs, third door on the left. Be gone by noon tomorrow," The man said, hid eyes not leaving the papers infront of him as he accepted the small woman's coin. Her clock shifted as she looked up past him, the sounds of various patrons making her a bit nervous, but she finally stepped past the desk.
"Thank you," She said quietly, her voice almost as soft as a rabbits hide. Clutching her staff, She walked slowly up the stairs, they old wood creaking with each step she took until she reached the landing. There were five doors on each side of the hall way, with another door at the very end, preseumabbly for the people who ran the small inn. The woman was tired of sleeping on the ground, and when she found this little place, it's foreboding appearance did little to scare her off.
She jumped suddenly, started by a loud noise for the door she was standing near, which very quickly prompted her to hurry to her room. It was dingy, an old wardrobe standing tall in the corner, next to a small table and broken chair. A single bed was shoved up against the wall near the door, it was the cheapest room, she knew it, but it was significantly better than nothing. She wasted no time taking off her cloak and rucksack, setting both down on the table before falling onto the bed and closing her eyes.
**************Primrose Levillia
The first thing she noticed were the chains. They were heavy, and cold, and she could feel then rubbing uncomfortably at her skin. Not to mention they were at an awkward length, as her feet didn't quiet touch the floor all the way, and her wrist were being pulled a bit. Her head felt weird, clouded; not a hangover but...she looked up, taking in her surroundings. Dark, and dingy, and with the added bonus of other people. Most notably the other elves...her heart began to race a little. What could possibly be the reason for this? Who would want to kidnap a bunch of random...her attention quickly turned to the old man as he began to speak.
He began to explain why they were there. Which made Primrose think. When did the apply for that? Did she even apply for a mercenary job, it didn't seem like something she would do...well, she must have if she was brought here. Primrose looked down at her forearm as another symbol appeared on her already decorated flesh. But it was easy to tell the difference between her glowing golden marks and the one that wad just placed on her, so she looked back up, bitting her lip.
Concerned was an understatement, she was scared. She was actually supposed to return home sometime within the next year, and according to this man, this would push that deadline a bit. But maybe this could be a good thing? Primrose at least was trying to see the silver lining, and it was little easier when he mentioned the reward. It sounded...well, it sounded great. And secrecy would be rather easy. However he the brought up the combat test. Looking around again, She didn't see any of her stuff, but she was magical so it should be rather easy. But now it was time for questions, and she had a good number of them.
"Hver ertu?" She blurted out, "Hvar erum við? Og dótið mitt?" Panic caused her mouth to work faster than her brain, her questions coming out in her native tounge, but she let the questions hang in the air for a moment. Before she shook her head, and started to translate her own words. "Sorry, I... meant to say that in english. Anyway, who are you? Where are we? And what happened to my stuff?"
Proletariat VeiledPariah MiraAutumn oldbadname RedEmRa originalmadi IDIDMYTIME