Nyte
Junior Member
The mixture of revolting smells of human filth and the sight of drunken men falling into the bosoms of the Ladies of Fortune, it was a place no civilized person would be caught ever being, but then again they were not civilized men. In fact Ryker was not a man at all, but in fact a woman who was cleverly dressed as a young man in the service of his captain Lance Terrain. The port they had pulled into only hours ago was the pirate haven Dead Man's Grove. Here people like Ryker and her captain could walk freely as branded pirates, as there were no royal soldiers or guards to question them about their intentions. It was best to assume that anyone in this port had ill intentions.
A drunken woman wearing nothing but her underskirt and a half-ripped open shirt stumbles over to Ryker and snaked her arm around her shoulders. "Looks like I've got a youngin one right 'er." She half whispered into Ryker's ear while managing to spit a bit on her cheek. Drawing a blade from her side she placed the cold steel against the woman's neck. "Aye, I may be young but not stupid. Now get your hand off my coin purse or you'll be finding it's your blood in that tankard rather than rum." The look in Ryker's eyes were of murderous intent and the woman, although obviously displeased, removed herself from Ryker's person and stomped away to a more willing man.
Shuttering Ryker slid the blade back into its place in her boot and looked to her captain. "I don't know how our men find comfort in the whores. They're revolting and smell of rotten eggs." She said and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
A drunken woman wearing nothing but her underskirt and a half-ripped open shirt stumbles over to Ryker and snaked her arm around her shoulders. "Looks like I've got a youngin one right 'er." She half whispered into Ryker's ear while managing to spit a bit on her cheek. Drawing a blade from her side she placed the cold steel against the woman's neck. "Aye, I may be young but not stupid. Now get your hand off my coin purse or you'll be finding it's your blood in that tankard rather than rum." The look in Ryker's eyes were of murderous intent and the woman, although obviously displeased, removed herself from Ryker's person and stomped away to a more willing man.
Shuttering Ryker slid the blade back into its place in her boot and looked to her captain. "I don't know how our men find comfort in the whores. They're revolting and smell of rotten eggs." She said and wrinkled her nose in disgust.