Fleeing to Another Future (Dyna)

[Tassadar]

Spoiler

Alea: HP = 59, PP = 51, EP = 42, Status = Fine

Alea's sparse garments left very little to the imagination, and so the elf caught practically every eye as she scurried through the city's busy streets. Located on the river that connected Badaria with Amazonia and practically next to the pass of ghosts as it was, the lowland city saw its fair share of non-human travelers, but very few of the elves moving through the city were clad in dancer's clothes that would have seemed more appropriate in the harem of some desert lord than there. Fewer still had the body to pull it off as she did, much of her life's learning up until that point having been dedicated towards more carnal pursuits than the average person and thus her frame had been honed to idealize exactly that, first by the orcish slavers that had brought her up and then by the sorcerer who had owned her after them.

Not all of the looks cast her way were the simple mixture of dumbfounded lust or shock, however. A few - most of them women - glared disapprovingly after the scantily clad elf as she wandered down the streets of Lockacre in search of one of the many caravan squares where a trader group she could join to get out of the city before her former master caught up with her.

Lockacre's thriving trade at least ensured that Alea didn't have to go far, but when she came upon one of the city's many trading squares the stares only grew more common as she went from open streets to the open square. There were a six caravans in the square that she entered, differentiable by their colors. The closest two were all that she could see in any detail through the crowds and stalls, however, and she would have to go deeper into the crowded square to see much of the other four beyond their banners and colors.

Of the two she could get a clear picture of, the one to her right bore a white and blue checkered banner. The caravan wagons were divided into three chains, and the two set deeper into the square were awash with customers from either side, selling bolts of cloth in a variety of colors and styles. The third wagon train was of simpler design than the rest, lacking the personal decorations of a train in which a trader who lived in it for much of the year would accrue overtime. Instead they were spartan, with extra paneling of thick oak reinforced by metal backing, and rather than traders and their customers, it was surrounded by men with a soldiery look to them. They wore simple grey uniforms with red trim, and though for now there seemed only to be a handful of them present, they seemed to be a rowdy bunch. Three of them spotted Alea all too quickly, and though it was hard to hear through the din of the crowd, the way their eyes lingered on certain parts of her made it fairly clear what the subject of their conversation was.

The left-hand caravan was a bit more scattered, with a dozen or so wagons painted in bright colors, all of them with slightly different in their detailing but with red as their primary colors. The attending people were of a darker complexion than the pale Badarian locals, and seemed to be selling an eclectic variety of goods. Their banner was unusual, more like a tapestry of the night sky with unusually pronounced stars than a proper flag, and every individual wagon seemed to have its own distinct portion. There didn't seem to be any guards around that particular caravan, either from their own ranks or provided by the city itself.

Past them, she could only make out the other caravan's banners; a black one with a white falcon spreading its wings and a green one with a bushle of wheat on the left, and a red banner in gold trim without any visible design and a bright blue one with a white star and red apple set corner to corner on the right. She would have to take a walk around the square if she wished to get a better idea of the other caravan's condition and compliment, and ask around the caravan workers if she wished to get an idea of their destinations and, perhaps more importantly given the urgency inherent to her escape, when they might be leaving.

 

[Dyna]

When Alea walked through the streets, she could feel every stare on her, every glance and every disapproving look. A blush appeared on her cheeks and while softly biting on her lips her eyes shifted nervously from left to right.
Yet her path was clear and there was no turning back. Like driven from a stream, a stream of lecherous stares, she strutted hips swaying towards the marketplace.

Eventually she reached the marketplace and stopped. The stream of stares finally lead her to the sea... a sea of eyes all staring at her, but this time the area was much more crowded than before. Nervously she shifted around, the chains of her outfit softly jangling.
She gazed around, and felt lost like a ship on an ocean. The elf noticed the rowdies, their stares and quickly tried to avoid their eye contact. They didn't gave her a feeling of security, rather the polar opposite. Scratching that first caravan from her list, her eyes moved full with hope to the next Caravan.

The red banner of the second caravan and their variety of different goods peeked her curiosity, but the lack of guards worried her. Protection was which she needed right now and standing right in plain sight of anyone approaching the market, it would only be a matter of time till her former master would spot her there.

Alea sighed and peered into the crowd. All that bustling, all these people, it would help her to hide from her former master... and furthermore, their are other caravans deeper in the crowd as well. The blond hesitated for a moment and sighed, it would also mean to dive much deeper into a mass of people. Trying to gather enough courage, she eventually moved into the crowd and towards the caravan with the white falcon. She wanted to take a look at it and if possible ask when they will depart and if they still have room left for a passenger and where they are actually heading. She also would pay attention on the amount of guards they have and how cultivated and trustworthy they seem.
Yet if they were all occupied, or say that they wouldn't take her, she would try to squeeze herself through the crowd to approach the caravan with the wheat banner, followed by the one with the white star and red apple.

 

[Tassadar]

Spoiler

Alea: HP = 59, PP = 51, EP = 42, Status = Fine

Exploring further into the market square at least allowed Alea to blend into the crowd, obscuring her from anyone who might be following her and the sight of her master if he caught up with her here. The bustling crowd required more careful navigation to avoid bumping into anyone, and even being careful she couldn't totally avoid bumping shoulders a few times. More than once someone stopped short to look her up and down as she passed or after she bumped into them, and a few men openly gaped at her while they ogled, but the denizens of the crowd mostly kept their hands to themselves.... Mostly. A few hands strayed to her ass as they passed, but for the most part they seemed like they could be accidental... Except one, a grinning woman with dark skin, clad in a dark blue tabbard over dark mail and bearing a long blade over her shoulder, who brazenly reached in to seize a handful of the elf's plump rear and squeeze firmly, even giving Alea a wink if she turned before removing her hand and continuing on her way as if she hadn't just openly groped Alea.

The caravan sporting the black and white falcon banner was the closer of the two along the left side of the market square, at least, and as she moved by it Alea saw that it was well guarded by men in slim black uniforms with white trim, the symbol on the banner present over their hearts. They sported rifles and sabers openly, were three to a wagon, and glared about dubiously at any and every prospective customer. Their wares seemed to primarily focus on tools and weapons, and they were doing a great deal of business as tradesmen of all sorts lined up to get their hands on the group's goods. The staff working the wagons were, like the guards, all men. When Alea approached, it was with disapproving glares rather than lustful ones that the caravan guards received her, and the man she approached narrowed his eyes. "You a messenger? The master isn't here, but will return within an hour or so," the guard said before Alea could even speak, "if whoever you serve wants to treat with us, you'll have to wait." Those final words were spoken in a fairly dismissive tone that she had heard often enough from her master that it might trigger some natural reactions, but nothing else would stop her from making her needs clearer now.

From where she observed the falcon banner'd caravan, Alea could just as easily see some of the next, the one sporting the green banner. Perhaps true to its advertising, the bulky group of wagons seemed to be selling produce. That caravan was organized in a circle of sorts, and through the simple, unpainted wagons Alea could see glimpses of workers moving stock from the back wagons to the front ones in the central gap. There were women and children among those rushing about to keep the stands supplied, and the people manning the stands were likewise of mixed genders, projecting a much friendlier appearance than the first caravan that she'd elected to approach. There were only a half dozen guards to oversee the goings on, however, and all but one of them looked like foreigners. The armed men and women - two of the latter and four of the former - bore pistols unlike any that she had ever seen on their hips, but also shields and hand weapons of varying types save for one of the women - an orc of all things - who had forgone the protective plate for a greatsword carried over her shoulder. They wore inconsistent sets of armor rather than uniforms, but common among them was a familiar sort of dark skinned tabbard, though Alea didn't see the woman who had groped her among the mercenary guards currently on duty.