(1310-12-22) Caught
Summary: Headaches, a broken arm and some foreigners are what Lois and Gwenaelle will have to deal with, when they find themselves caught and threatened with a dagger.
RL Date: 07-08/01/2019
Related: Happens after this and this.
lois gwenaelle 

Somewhere in Marsilikos (?)


When Lois wakes after the hit to her head, she'll find herself in a rundown room. From the amount of dirt and dust that lies on the single table and chair, it's not generally inhabited. No windows to give her any sense of time of day, beyond a little daylight that might be glimpsed under the bottom of the single door into the place. She'll find herself laid upon a scratchy rough horse blanket - the thing still smells like a horse, and isn't the cleanest of bedding, but at least it keeps her off the floor, right?

There's sounds of quiet sniffling, someone crying quietly nearby. A turn of her head will spy two young girls, their ages around 14 or so. From their clothing and slender forms, they likely live on the streets, or in the poorest part of the city. One girl with dirty blond hair, is the one crying, cradling one arm against her chest. The other, one with red hair, is trying her best to comfort the other, making quiet little shushing sounds while trembling.

At the table sits one dark haired man, shuffling cards with a lantern on the table. He's got a knife as well, and seems the sort that would be quick to use it if need be. About the time she is coming too, there's a patterned knock on the door, the first rap of knuckles to make the man at the table, grab his knife, prepared to stab whomever is at the door until the pattern continues. He reaches for the rope that holds it closed from the inside, untying the knot, and letting in another guy, dark of hair as well. He's got a few packages in hand, and begins to speak to the other in a foreign language.

<FS3> Lois rolls Composure: Success. (3 5 5 8 5 2 5)

Pain of the numbing sort, not the sharp kind, throbs within the head of the young Coquelicot adept that is slowly coming to. Eyelids flutter, and a low moan comes in immediate reaction to the discomfort felt. Before the pale redhead closes her eyes again, as if regaining her wits. Just listening. Letting the sounds within the room give her that first impression. Those sobs. These make her eyelids open just a tad, to glance furtively towards the pair of girls that look so very young, and Lois freezes, inhaling a deep breath through her nose. Otherwise, Lois keeps still, at least outwardly as she tries to move her limbs just marginally, to test whether she is restrained by any means. The moment the stranger walks to the door to answer in that foreign language, Lois dares to lift her hand and check her head for injuries, and any traces of blood. It sure hurts, making it hard to think. Her eyes open more fully now, knowing that the man is turning his back towards her, and the adept tries to catch as many details as possible about the man, the room, the pair of girls, and maybe others that may be there as well.

<FS3> Lois rolls Perception: Good Success. (8 4 8 5 6 5 8 4 1 5)

While there isn't much to really take in about the place Lois finds herself in - the single room has one entrance/exit and is dirty. There's a few pallets of old mildewy hay covered by the dirty horse blankets - at least half a dozen of them, though she only sees the two girls besides herself, and now the two men.

As the second steps inside, talking, his gaze falls upon the girls, and they cower into the corner, the blond obviously scared of him as her arm is cradled closer to her body. No doubt, it's easy to pick up on the fact that he's likely the one who hurt her.

It's the first that might notice that Lois is awake, and he switches easily to an accented D'Angeline, "So you are awake, flower? You make a sound, we cut out your tongue. You good, you will get water and food. Understood?" For good measure, he'll pick up the large dagger, flashing it in her direction as if to underline his meaning.

The reaction of the blonde girl is not lost on Lois. The adept glances her way, and thus gives up any pretense of still being unconscious. With her gaze sweeping back to the two men, it meets the inquiring look of the new arrival. His way of address in a language she can understand makes the young adept sit up, carefully, one hand still touching against her head, where she got struck down. A simple nod signals to the men that she understands, as her blue eyes look towards the dagger. "Who are you?", she hears herself ask, despite the warning, her voice a low whisper. "And… what do you want with me?" Her other hand touches against the rug, fingers tracing it, as if searching for something, or perhaps in a gesture she needs to soothe herself. "I… had a pouch with me… Where is it?", she asks.

"Not important." That's the answer Lois gets when asked who the two men are. As for the next question, there's a wicked little smile that comes to the man's lips, "You, little flower, and the others, are going to make our friend quite happy back in Khebbel-im-Akkad." Even the second man joins in on a few chuckles. "Do no worry. You will be doing just what you trained to do for your whore companion. Only, you will do it for one man." It may become apparent, that while they knew Lois was a servant of Naamah, they didn't really look to see what House exactly guided her worship to the Companion. When the pouch is asked about, he shrugs, "What do you want with it?" It's likely on the table, pushed back against the wall out of the way. It was likely searched to see if it held anything useful to them.

Her brows lift when she is denied information. But what can Lois really do but accept this, especially when there is more information given, that can only be disquieting to her? There is that soft ripple in her throat, when Lois swallows, eyes blinking, as they follow the man's gesture towards the table. The pouch has been turned inside out, most likely, spilling four or five pebbles, grey and of no great value. Spotting them, Lois inhales sharply. "They are mine…", she tells them, with perhaps surprising urgency. "Can I… have them back? They are of no value to you."

The man watches her, and when she seems so upset over the bag and pebbles, he looks from it to the girl again, "If I give it back to you, promise to not cause any trouble?" If she promises that, then he'll gather the pebbles and the bag, and drop them into her lap. To the other, he speaks, once more switching to their native tongue, words to end in a nod of the other's head. A small skin of watered wine and a hunk of bread is pulled out of the packages that were brought in. "Here. Eat, drink." He'll drop the bread and skin on the horse blanket that Lois sits on, expecting her to share what is there with the other two girls. Or she can hog it all herself, and leave them wanting. He doesn't seem to really care what she does. He takes a seat at the table, the cards shuffled and dealt, a game struck up between them as they… wait.

<FS3> Lois rolls Reaction+Reaction: Failure. (6 4 1 6 3 3 1 4)

There is a soft exhale of relief, when Lois feels the pouch and the pebbles fall into her lap, her hands reacting too late in the failed attempt to catch them. Gathering them then, one after the other, she places them back into the leather pouch, save the last two she keeps in her hand. The adept's gaze sweeps to the bread and wine skin that is dropped beside her and she stows the last two pebbles away, before she takes the food and drink and, still kneeling, edges closer to the two other girls. "You must be hungry. And thirsty," the Coquelicot adept states, holding both bread and wineskin out to the two girls. She looks towards the blonde. "What is it with your arm? Might I have a look at it?" Not that she could do much. But at least, with her Balm training, she might be able to give a diagnosis of an injury and maybe also try to treat it.

The guys go about playing cards, seemingly not giving the girls any attention. But they also sit near the only door, so there's no hopes of getting out of the place. Cards are shuffled and dealt, the two men continuing to talk in that foreign tongue.

The two girls don't want to talk at first, but when the wine and bread are offered, the redhead will snatch it up, tearing the bread into two, and tucking one into the blond's good hand. Hungry? Looks like they are starving. When asked, it is the redhead who answers, "That man hurt her arm last night when she yelled at him. He grabbed her and twisted it to get her to shut up…" The words tumble out before she tears off a bit of bread, and stuffs it into her mouth.

It will take a little while before the blond will trust her enough to take a look at her arm, but even to one with a little Balm training, it's easy to tell either it is broken near the elbow, or the elbow is just popped out of socket.

"Companions," Lois murmurs, as she inspects carefully the arm. "Let me check. Relax. Either this is bad indeed, or… I may be able to fix it." She may not be ignoring their abductors completely, as she lowers her voice even further. "I am Lois. I have some knowledge about healing." A faint line shows between her brows as she announces this. "Not as much as I would like, right now. But it may suffice…" Fingers check gently along that socket, to gauge whether the arm is broken or just popped out. "Leave some of the bread and wine to your friend.", she addresses to the other redhead. Nevermind, her own mouth feels so very dry suddenly. "And I shall see what I can do here…"

<FS3> Lois rolls Medicine: Failure. (4 5 2 4 3 1 5)
Lois spends 1 luck points on Reroll of failed Medicine roll.
<FS3> Lois rolls Medicine: Great Success. (1 8 7 3 8 5 7)

The quiet whisper and tone slowly makes the blond trust her. The redhead points out she gave half the bread to the other girl already. "I'm Annette, she's Zoe." Names are given out in a quiet whisper as the blond warms to the adept. She nods her dirty head, letting Lois touch her to see what she might find out. It is clear as day to her, that it is more than just the elbow being out of socket, but that it's a break. Thankfully, it's not so bad that it's poking out or causing more trouble. That she's been holding it against her belly, has been a good thing. A make-shift sling will have to do her for the moment.

Another of those patterned knocks will come to the door, one man grabbing the knife on the table as he goes for the door to undo the rope. Words are exchanged before it's opened, and another man steps inside, lugging what looks like a rolled up carpet. He doesn't quite dump it on the floor, but doesn't put it down easily either, unrolling it to reveal the unconscious form of a female wearing the robes of Eisheth's Temple. The guy is dark like the others, speaking up to the others with some excitement. Seems they managed to get their prize.

The purpose gives the young Coquelicot adept enough confidence to proceed with the treatment, as far as she can manage for now. She is, after all, just an adept, trained only marginally in the means of treatment, more in diagnosis and putting a patron at ease. She rips off some of the lower hem of her dress to make a makeshift sling out of it. "You should keep this as still as possible," she murmurs towards Zoe, and then nods towards Annette. "I see." Attention shifts to the door when there is another knock to it, and Lois freezes when she notes not only the burden the arriving third abductor carries, but also… sees a familiar face, when the carpet is unrolled. "Eisheth, have mercy on us," Lois murmurs in astonishment when she lays eyes on Gwenaelle, the priestess of Eisheth well known in Marsilikos.

There's a moan from Gwenaelle when she rolls out of the rug, body loose and flopping a little. There's a knot on her head that shows they likely hit her over the head as well, just as they did Lois. It'll be a little bit before she manages to pull herself back to consciousness.

The three men talk for a bit, the newest to glance to Lois and the other two girls before continuing his conversation. There's motions to the rug, and other general 'rolling' gestures made as they talk. Before Gwenaelle comes around, the one that brought her in, leaves the place, heading back out to do whatever he is going to do.

The meaner of the two left, the one that hurt Zoe, gestures with the dagger in hand, "You there.. little flower.. take care of her. You all be quiet.. or else." A threat once more highlighted by a wave of that wicked dagger in his hand.

<FS3> Lois rolls Composure-2: Good Success. (8 2 6 8 4)

Can pale freckled skin of a redhead look paler than that of Lois nó Coquelicot, as she settles her gaze on Gwenaelle, while she hears the instructions left in accented d'Angeline, their meaning drifting within a mind that threatens to give in to panic. "I shall," Lois whispers, that flash of steel noted from the corner of her eye. "I need… water." Edging closer her fingers brush over Gwenaelle's forehead, and the Adept that usually emanates that calm in her bearing has to swallow hard as she exhales, with her eyes widening at the realization of the depravity at work here. Waiting until the man moves to get her water as requested, she leans in then, to murmur into Gwenaelle's ear, "It will be alright. But. We need you, Sister. Please. Wake up."

<FS3> Gwenaelle rolls Composure: Success. (2 4 3 5 6 6 3 1 3 8 2 5 2)

When asked for water, the meaner guy stares at Lois before nodding his head finally. There's a jug on the table that is lifted up and held out to her to take. There's at least a cup or so of water left in it, "This will do." Stepping back to his chair, he sits, but continues to watch them all, not going back to the card game just yet.

Gwenaelle will gradually pull herself back to consciousness, moaning a little at the pain in her head. The words that Lois whispers draws her upwards, eyes fluttering and a wince showing on her face, "Whaaat.." Confusion reigns until she finally opens her eyes and sees she is not where she thought she'd be. Any of the places she thought she could be. She tenses when the sight of the men finally registers, a sharp inhale taken as things start to slowly filter back in - Johan, his sick family, the need for more medicine from the temple, the walk back… and then nothing but the sharp pain. Her hand lifts to touch her head, noting the knot there as green eyes finally glance to Lois. "What.. where.." She doesn't see Annette or Zoe, at least not at first.

Loïs rips another piece of fabric from the lower hem of her dress, after she accepted the jug, the dusky skinned man offered to her, blue eyes wide and her expression also a little accusing as she meets his gaze. Attention focuses then on Gwenaelle, and the young adept pours some of the water over the fabric, before she touches it against that knot, the soothing chill of moistened cloth probably a soothing sensation. The redhead adept's gaze meets the glance of the Priestess, and Lois shakes her head. "I… don't know, Sister. But for now… the only thing I can tell you is that you are not alone. And there is someone that is in need of the blessings you may be able to bestow."

There is another hiss as the wet cloth touches her head, a little blood to show the place where her skin was cut. Listening, Gwenaelle frowns, "Who?" The question is asked softly yet as she tries to push herself to sit up slowly, taking her time when her vision swims a little. After sitting up, hearing Annette speak to Zoe behind her, draws her attention and a slow turn of her head to spy the two younger girls huddled in the corner. "Oh." This is not good. So not good. "What's wrong?" The question comes then as she takes note of the sling that Lois had made for the girl, recognizing the material as from her dress.

"Her arm is broken," Lois confides in a low murmur, her gaze flicking towards Zoe in a pointed manner. "Careful," she leans in to assist the Priestess in sitting up, aware as the adept is of possible belated reactions that hit to the head can have caused. "I am Lois. Lois nó Coquelicot. I am not sure you remember. But I saw you, a number of times. When you visited our salon." Murmurs become a whisper, as the adept leans even further in, with a certain urgency as not to be overheard by their foreign captors.

"Oh." Gwenaelle is already considering what she can do for the young girl. When offered the name of the adept, she smiles a little, starting to nod her head before wincing, "Yes.. I remember you.. your debut was recent." Now that she's sitting up, she takes in the room a little, giving the two men a glance before looking away again. "Here is hoping that someone will find us soon.. " Her hand lifts, to feel the spot al ittle, likely making sure her skull wasn't cracked in the process. She just seems to have a good goose-egg and a sight headache. "How long have you been here.. and them?" The quiet question comes then to Lois. "What day is it?" She does wonder, trying to figure out just how long she might have been out.

"Her name is Zoe. And the other girl is called Annette. But that is all I know.", Lois replies to the priestess at a low volume. "I just got here, I think. They hit me on the head. So I can't be sure, if this is still the day after Longest Night." Her gaze flicks towards the other two captives. "They have been here for longer, and Zoe mentioned… No, it was Annette… that Zoe's arm got twisted last night."

Gwenaelle listens quietly, soon to murmur, "It was afternoon. Day after Longest Night. Been working out on Harpoon Road with a family who's sick. I was heading back to the temple when I got hit on the head." So, if it's still the same day, then this is a good thing! "Last night?" She frowns, then shifts, looking to move closer to the two younger girls, "Annette? Zoe?" The names are spoken softly, her voice composed and comforting, "I am Sister Gwenaelle.. You can call me Gwen, if you like." She might be must up and got an egg on her head, but she's going to seek to soothe them both as best she can.

With Gwenaelle moving, the man at the chair speaks up, "Don't you go getting any ideas.." The priestess frowns, turning, "I am a healer. I merely want to make sure she's alright." He waves the dagger at her, indicating she can go on, "Like I told the others, you make noise, we'll cut your tongue out. Make too much, we'll cut our losses and just kill you all." A nod of understanding is given by the priestess before she turns back to Zoe, "Do you mind if I look at your arm?"

Loïs nods, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. But the adept stays silent, as if heeding the request of their abductors. "Sister Gwenaelle," is all she murmurs, in confirmation of her address of choice. Her gaze flicks to Zoe, and she adds, "I've done what I could, but I am no healer. Her arm…" Her hand she lifts to point towards the makeshift sling, and then stays at Gwenaelle's side, ready to assist if such is needed. Not a single glance is spared the man with the dagger. They know he has it, he has waved it for long enough where they could see it.

There might be the smallest of eye rolls given the man with the dagger at his threat, but Gwenaelle seems intent upon the young girl. Listening to Lois, she hmms, nodding at what the adept tells her, "What you have done, is a good first step." The quiet words are offered aside as she waits Zoe's permission to look her over.

The girl agrees, sitting still as Gwenaelle moves closer. Of course, she will say quietly, "I need you to do me a really big favor, Zoe. Even after the pain is gone, pretend your arm is still hurt. It might help us later, to let them think you can't use your arm, okay?"

Surely, the two girls from the streets are smart enough to understand the advantage of such a scam, and are more than willing to keep pretending as Gwenaelle checks out her arm. With a quiet murmur, the priestess begins to pray to Eisheth, calling upon her to help heal the young girl's arm.

<FS3> Gwenaelle rolls Medicine: Great Success. (7 8 1 1 6 5 7 2 7 2 2 5 6 4 6)
<FS3> Gwenaelle rolls Body+body: Good Success. (6 8 7 6 4 7)

To the foreigners, it might look like a priestess intoning a prayer merely to soothe the girl. But Zoe's eyes widen and she stares at Gwenaelle, when the healer's fingers resting on that arm give a soft prickle as if from some sort of electricity. This will be the moment, Gwen will feel the power of Eisheth drift through her, a warm sensation, intoxicating and also a little draining. But this seems to be a little price to pay, when the priestess can feel the broken bone heal beneath her touch.

Lois watches from her position beside Gwenaelle, and a slightly overwhelmed "Eisheth be blessed!", slips from the adept's lips in a low murmur. She edges closer, as if to shield Zoe's arm more from the glances of the men.

Gwenaelle doesn't get lost in the feeling as she can sometimes. This time, it is a simple prayer for a simple healing that might help the four females who share this plight together. A breath is released as she knows the moment the arm is healed, her eyes opening to glance to Annette, Zoe and then aside to Lois. "Eisheth be blessed." Quiet words exchanged, "We must all wait and watch, bid our time till we can try and escape. But do not take any chances that could have them truly hurt you, understood?" She looks to the other three, "If I tell you to do something, do it.. immediately." If she can distract the men at any time, and give the younger girls the chance to escape, the priestess will see it done.

Reaching out, she will adjust the sling, winking to Zoe to remind her about pretending the arm is still hurt, "I could use some small pieces of wood to split her arm…" She turns to the men at the table, "If the next time either of you leave, or the other returns, and could find such, that would be helpful?" There is nothing that she could see there in the room besides the legs of the chairs, that could work. And even those are too thick.

The men will nod, but say nothing more, leaving the four females to settle down, share some water and wine, and wait to see what is going to happen to them.

<FS3> Lois rolls Composure: Success. (3 3 5 4 6 7 6)

Loïs glances towards the men, when Gwenaelle addresses them about the splint. But maybe the priestess's words have managed to unsettle her a little. "Do as you say, Sister Gwenaelle?", the adept echoes, and never has Lois's voice sounded so small and timid. "You are not meaning to suggest..?" Her fingers tremble a little as she settles herself on the rug, and her hand smooths out the skirts of her dress. "Someone… someone will notice we are gone," Lois murmurs to Gwenaelle. "They will look for us… and find us."

Gwenaelle's gaze turns towards the adept, her hand offered to her lightly as she sits with her back to the men, facing the three younger girls. The street kids understand, and are quick to nod their agreement. Zoe even continues to cradle her arm against her. The priestess murmurs to Lois, "That will be our hope and prayer, but… if they don't, be ready." It's simple as can be, Gwen prepared to give the younger girls any opportunity she can, that they might escape.

Feeling tired, Gwenaelle eventually will move to the other corner so she might rest leaning back against the wall, though she will tear a piece of her robe to stuff there, unseen. A clue, perhaps. Just in case.

"Click-click. Clicka-dee-click."

Pebbles are turned about on Lois's palm, as she sits there, pale and yet composed. "It could be worse…", the adept remarks softly, offering a faint smile to Zoe and Annette. "I have faith in our friends. They will find us. May the Companions guide their way."

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