Oh, how the mighty fall...[Synthia]

[Fenra Pol'vora]

Crowcalls was always full of memories for Fenra, it was home to her. Just inside the walls were people she still knew. However it was one reason she kept just out of reach of her hometown, just on the outskirts though she knew that it was probably safer to be inside the city than outside of it after the Peace Conference had failed. It was sad really, how quickly it had all come to pieces, but at the same time rather expected.

War was always easier than peace because when it came down to it cities thrived on war, men made their fortune. How quickly the conference had been dispatched was proof of that. There were some casualties, mainly poor fellows too enthused by the fighting to realize that they were sometimes outnumbered. Of course Fenra had not been a part of that, not at all. With her commander they lingered in the distance and watched the chaos unfold. The amount of nobles and high ranks there would be money to be made, and after the battle and camps hand broken all that was left was stragglers. It was then that Fenra had ridden out with her men, the lower ranks and younger members stripped the valuables from who was left, her and the commander went about to the other rogues and raiders that were coming to cash in as well, chasing any off they could manage. It helped that some were Carthonia, more fun to dispatch...

With several bags of valuables and one or two prisoners to take back to use for ransom their group were quick to withdraw back to Crowcalls. Here they were safer, with most of their swag sold in the markets or traded with merchants most of the guards were paid, happy with new supplies, plenty of food, and the promise of more. Sitting back around the fireplace of the abandoned farmstead they’d come upon in their travels, making it their makeshift base for now. With her commander Fenra joked with a few of the men more comfortable with her since she’d come to join them. There were fewer now that she really had to use her charms on after she’d been around long enough and proven more of her worth. It was better now, the first few rough months, and now the slowly growing wealth that overflowed from the growing tensions of the nobles around.

“So what should we do with the fighter?” One of the men brought up as their meals were being finished and many started going back to their

“We’ll see what we can get for her. Till then we keep her as tightly locked up as we can. If we get nothing we’ll sell everything she has and then we ditch her.” The commander spoke up, a gruff man, not cruel enough to suggest selling a human being into slavery, even a Carthonia, “We’ll leave her in our territory, anyone finds her they can pick and choose her fate. No use to us if she’s worth nothing, and not worth dirtying our weapons. Still gotta keep her alive.”

As the commander began to take what was left of the dinner they’d had and put it on one of the plates Fenra thought back to the prisoners they’d taken. There was a noble man, who carried enough to pay his own ransom once they’d reached the inn he’d been staying at, not a bad deal, but then there was the woman...she’d not taken too good of a look at her as Fenra wasn’t usually interested in human prizes in war. They took supplies away from soldiers and really unless they were worth something it was just like having a pet one didn’t really like, but the story of how the men had captured her had been interesting enough. To have it take nearly ten men to get her down and knocked out...yes that was a warrior not a scared little noble girl with a weapon. As others were heading back out to their tents to make camp while the higher ranks went upstairs for room Fenra stood up brushing a hand down the black linen shirt and slacks she wore, changed long ago out of her leathers and armor, “I’ll take it to her...” She offered picking up the plate before grabbing up a cup of wine.

Women on the battlefield were rare, the few she had seen either hid themselves or had some connection in that didn’t rouse complaints. So she was curious to at least talk with her. With her commanders permission she started down the stairs that led down from the back kitchen all the way down to a large wine and grain celler. It was cool down here, no windows, a few laps lit with dying candles as she passed one of the guards and moved towards the little room where they’d stored the woman for save keeping. Making one of the guards get the door she stepped in, boots scuffing across the dirt floor as she glanced into the room at their prisoner.

“You’re a lucky sort, we’re even feeding you again with the food we bought.” Going to a small side table she sat the plate and wine down before looking up waiting for some response or action as the door shut behind her and latched. Being locked in wasn’t a terrible position. She wasn’t too worried seeing as how there were guards just right outside. “Judging on the armor we got off of you, and banner I’d say we’re going to get paid back quite well though for the effort of putting you up...what do you say? Just what level of lowly Carthonia are you?” Fenra asked, her tone light and joking as if trying to make friends and not figure out an enemy or prisoner.

[SYNTHIA VI'WIESSRITT]

Darkness and silence, these are the sensations that Synthia only feels now. With a blank glare she gazed at the stone floor. Where was she? What happened? She could not answer these questions; she could only feel their consequences. She attempted to answer these questions by examining her state. She raised the palms of her hands to her face. Her palms were rough, scratched and drenched in blood she could not make out hers or someone else’s. Her fingers curled and her hands raised even higher meet the split and mangled ends of her hair. She rubbed her fingers against the strands of her hair. Her hair was rough and pasted together in mangle by a hideous concoction of blood and earth. She then ran her fingers the length of her chest and waists. Her armor was gone, her tunic was torn and the remnants of streams of blood stained her uniform. Then she felt her face, the dirt on her face and then the grooves of a deep scar that gashed across her left eye. She threw her hands to ground in disgust and shock.

Thousands of thoughts at once flew around in her head. How could this have happened? Was this an omen? She wanted to scream and run and rage, but her body would allow no such thing. She only sat there and with a blank face glared at the dark walls. No princely rage or warrior spirit ran through her veins she was completely and utterly defeated in mind, body and spirit. Then her silence was broken by a figure walking into the room. Synthia recoiled at the loud noise and the rustle of furniture. She even raised her hands to cover her face, like some vulnerable low life. Then she heard a few words exchanged to her. The words ran across the room and upon entering her ears they made her mind shudder. She could only make out the words “lowly” and “Carthonian”. Her mind’s mouth retaliated “How dare you!” it shouted but, her human lips never moved they remained firmly shut. Her human self merely turned to the figure and glared at the figure with eyes those of dying beast.

However, this mute prisoner did manage to mumble in a low whisper some words to the figure, “I… coun…ess… Vi’…Vi’weiss…war…errrr.” The words clumsily collapsed from her lips and hardly made it to the feet of the figure sitting across from her. Her only hope is that she got the message.

[Fenra Pol'vora]

The voice was not one of a fighter, but then again after hearing what the other had been through from the men she figured anyone would feel a little numb. Leaning against the far wall of the makeshift cell she scuffed her feet against the floor a little. She'd expected a little more fight, a little more anger, but as she translated best she could she knew that those were curses being told to her. Another reason why her commander liked her now after her initial introduction, growing up so close to Wyeshing she'd picked up a lot of the merchants languages as they traveled through there. It was how they were able to be paid so handsomely for their first captive as without her and a few other raiders early exposure to the Carthonan they'd be feeding two mouths instead of just one.

Still it took work to take the broken words and put them all together in some semblance of understanding. Slowly she got what she needed, "Countess..." The other word had to be a last name of some sort as she tried to make her mouth work around it, "Vi’weisswarer? Countess Vi'weisswarer is who you are?" Tilting her head to the side her hair fell over her shoulder, she knew little to nothing of nobility except they were rich. She'd have to ask a scholar or two among the group if they knew anything of the name. "So your country is so desperate for good fighters they'll let their noble women fight a war?"

In a way she was trying to goad the other into a fight, she wanted to hear more, wanted to at least see her move about, judge if she was something worth keeping. However she had to pity the woman a little...the dirt and blood all over her, looking like she'd been through hell and back. She was lucky though, the men were savages when it came to the fight, but they had honor. Even if they rarely saw a woman they could touch for themselves they wouldn't have taken advantage of their prize, however it seemed that this was the length of their kindness as Fenra studied her.

"They could have at least cleaned you up though..." She muttered slamming her fist into the door to catch the attention of the guards on the other side, she could hear them jump a little from the sudden noise before one opened the door.

"Bring a bowl and pitcher of water, and some of the healers supplies."

"Ma'am?" the guard didn't budge, just watching her as if she'd grown a second head.

"I said water soldier, and bandages, and bring some of the paste the healer uses on open wounds...unless none of you want to be paid because our ransom died on us." She smiled, no anger, but her words had an effect as the man closed the door tightly once again and his footsteps could be hear wandering off. Turning back to the other woman she picked up the plate of food and wine and moved closer to where she was.

"It's been a while since we've had a decent catch. We want you alive, but boys will be boys...and that also means clueless sadly." Fenra laughed gently setting the food down beside the bed, "Go on, eat...you'll need your strength." Reaching out she grabbed a few strands of dirtied white hair, the blood nearly dying it red.

"We'll get you washed up, and that scar of yours will be bandaged. Can't have you getting too damaged." With that she reached out towards the wound at the other's eye to examine it, being cautious as she put her body within reach. There were no weapons to be used, but still a cornered animal might still try to bare its teeth and fight.

[SYNTHIA VI'WIESSRITT]

Synthia did not hear the words that came from the figure; in fact she could barely stay conscious. She began to sway her head back and forth as if drunk or dazed. She shuffled her feet around and raised her hands reaching for the wall. Her hands ran up the wall and she attempted to lift herself up. "I cannot stay here! I must free myself!" she yelled to herself in her mind.

As she slowly rose, the first moments of her body's pressure feel upon her bruised and scarred legs and these legs simply could not hold her. She could feel every muscle in her body ache at once. She fell with all the weight of her body following. As she crashed to the floor her hair flew across the floor spreading like rivers. She began to hiss and growl, "curse you! You useless flesh!" she scorned. She raised her head to see where she had located herself. From her hair impaired vision she could see the figure more clearly. The figure was a beautifully shaped woman of black eyes and hair. Synthia froze for a second. Her eyes spread wide, "this woman!" she thought "She looks just like-" and at that moment the memory of the person who the figure resembled flashed across her mind. The memory sparks something in Synthia. Her scarred eye began to twitch and she clenched her teeth like a mad dog. Tears began to flow from the untouched eye, the scarred eye yearned to cry as well but it seemed the scar not only cut flesh but also the fleshy mechanisms that allowed for tears. Just as her vision began to blur she noticed that an arm was reaching to her. Instinct and fear now controlled her body and not her scattered mind.

She threw her arm at the advancing body part of the figure and grabbed a hold. Her scar had now reopened and began to bleed down the side of her face. "Don't!" she growled in a low devilish tone, her voice now regaining some strength to be heard, "Don't touch meeeee" The last word lingering like thunder echoing in long valleys. She then tightened her grip on the arm until her nails began to dig into the skin they were holding. Using the grabbed arm as leverage she picked herself up only to slip on her bloodied hair and once again tumble to the stone floor. Synthia was becoming irritated by repeatedly meeting the cold sensation that is the stone floor through violent kinetic means. She screamed and began to punch the floor. These screams soon transformed into screeching tearful cries and the repeated beating of the stone slabs began to bloody her knuckles, breaking two. The stream of blood collecting below her now began to mix with the salty drops of tears, "Why am I crying" Synthia hissed out loud. She could not find any answers and looked straight to the figure she was holding and she cried to the figure, "WHY AM I CRYING DAMN IT!.. WHY? TEELLL MEE!"

This scream took much energy. Synthia let loose of the arm and once again attempted to stand up. It was obviously futile to do so with her body refusing any movement and her crazed mind yelling at her nervous system to obey. The result was another painful collapse. And so this is fate of the Iron maiden of the Vi'wiessriter family, a maimed and cornered beast.

[Fenra Pol'vora]

Fenra wasn't without kindness, even to Carthonians. She knew there was a way to handle hostages, a way to make sure the minimal damage came to them for the maximum pay back, but it wasn't all about money. She always wondered how some of the other treated their prisoners if they took any at all. She'd heard of rapes, daily beatings, starvation, and it shocked that that a human being could inflict such slow painful suffering on another out of the name of revenge. Killing was easy, anyone could do it...it was looking a person in the eyes and making it clear that they were going to torment them for as long as possible just because they were different.

Now an enemy with information, that was an exception if it could save lives, but this was a woman who looked scared despite the fact that even when cornered her men said they'd been afraid to really close in on her. Still she wasn't expecting the kind of strength that gripped her arm as she tried to touch the other. A low hiss escaped her lips as she tried to pull away only to feel nails dig in deeper as the weight of a body tried to pull itself up. Drops of her own blood rose to the surface where nails dug into unguarded flesh. The screams drew the attention of the other guard at the door.

"Fen--" He started shouting before her free hand went up before she slipped down to the ground so as not to let the hand gripping her arm rip and tear more flesh.

"I'm okay...stay back. I'm alright!" Looking back the guard looked hesitant to listen to her, but slowly stepped away.

Fenra was glad the violence the woman showed the dirt floor of the prison was not directed at her instead. However this could only further damage the situation in the frenzy of rage and fear as she moved back and began to focus her magic in the room around the other who seemed desperate to stand. Slowly, she lifted the other woman up off the ground, letting the gravity suddenly vanish as she lifted her without touching her to about eye level as she rose up to her feet as well.

Making sure there was nothing within reach of smashing and hurting herself with Fenra relaxed a little letting her hand go to her injured arm, "You know with that sort of fight you probably could get out of here. I hate to say it but not all of our men are strong enough for that kind outburst." Using both her powers at the same time took a lot of energy, but she needed the other to calm down enough to listen, to let her be touched. "It's alright. No one is going to hurt you, and no one is going to blame you if you cry. I would to if I just realized that some hacks were able to just capture me...then again the chaos at the Peace Talks could put anyone in a tizzy. However, I need you to calm down Countess."

Smiling softly Fenra stepped in a little closer now, her hands out to her side and visible. "See, no weapons...just food, and I sent someone to get you bandages. I'm Fenra Pol'vora, second in command of these raiders. Didn't get to meet the first time. Was surprised that there was a female commander on the other side. I'm just here to help." As she spoke she worked her magic, feeling it pulling at her body, but thanks to rest and food it wasn't going to leave her completely drained just yet. Keeping the other afloat so as not to hurt herself, and trying to use her charms to get her to calm down. Using them both weakened the effects of both as Fenra wavered a little, unsure if it would all work like she hoped it would.

"If I set you down I want to know you aren't going to hurt yourself, you're not going to do that are you?" Slowly she began to lower her to the bed to sit once more, watching in case she was wrong in her judgment as she stepped a little closer hearing the other guard coming back with the supplies she needed. Those would have to wait until this was done first.

[SYNTHIA VI'WIESSRITT]

Synthia could feel her body levitate off the ground, although extraordinary the situation, her pain both mental and physical forced to her to over look this sensation. However, what did break through the horrid cries and screams was a soft voice. A voice that blew gently across her ear just like a summer breeze. Suddenly a calm came over here. The storms of cries and violent swipes of the arms subsided. It’s as if her mind was swept clean by this calm voice.

Her clenched teeth let loose, her stretched lips and mouth muscles loosened and her glaring eyes slowly began to look tired and weary. Her clenched fists spread its fingers out and began to droop. The only part of her that was still active was the steady streams of blood trickling from the wounds she had reopened in her mental breakdown. "What.. what is this feeling?" she called out to herself. Slowly her body was moved and relocated to a bed. The soft embrace of the mattress and sheets, no matter how crude they appeared, made Synthia gasp with pleasure. She, in her state surrounded by calming voices and feelings, seemed to have all her hatred and anger evaporate. It is here that much praise must go to this voice. For surely any voice that can calm a wild beast such as Synthia deserves such praise.

Synthia once again, with her vision impaired by a bloody left eye, attempted to see the voice that had calmed her. As she strained to look she say once again an overwhelmingly beautiful women with dark eyes and hair moving her lips in a soft tone. Synthia stretched out her arm to grab the women's hand. However, this time with not the viciousness of a predator but, one of child holding onto her parent's hand. Her fingers softly brushed up against that of the figures. "Th..thank you" Synthia sighed. She could feel her strength fading once again into the abyss of unconsciousness, so in one last attempt she decided she would reintroduce herself this time with more composure. " I am Countess Synthia Vi'Wiessritter... pleased to meet your acquaintance...Fen.. Fenra." Then she slipped once again into the darkness.

[Fenra Pol'vora]

Annoyance, sadness, overexcitement...these were things that Fenra found easy to overcome with a few well placed words with just a little punch of magic behind them. Only a few people had ever caught her and called her out on it. However distrust, anger, and love were harder to get around, pure rage being one of the hardest...mainly because it was hard to get a person to listen to you when they're ready to tear your throat out.

Still she'd done her best in trying to get the other to listen to her, and she assumed that and a mix of suddenly not being in control of where she was on the ground anymore did help. That was good, it meant that she was listening...sort of...if she was one of the ones that could see through the charm then this was probably a trap but the suddenly rage to calm gave her the feeling that it was safe to tread closer.

The 'Thank You' the other offered was surprising to say the least, but no argument came from the Niendrian soldier as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed as she spoke. "Countess Synthia Vi'Wiessritter...well then, you and I will be becoming very good friends." Before she could see if her own magic had worked or not the other was already out cold. Giving a sigh she was interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking and a soldier coming in with the supplies she asked for and more.

"Leave the supplies there. Tell the commander to send someone out to fetch records of the noble lines within Carthonia. Also make it clear to him that if any more damage comes to this prisoner because our men get overexcited again I will be handing out punishments. The damage already done could cost us thousands of gold." Once the guards had left she slowly began to go to work. There were clean garments among the supplies as she removed the dirtied and bloodied ones carefully. It was then she caught sight of the scars that mapped the expanse of pale flesh there...not just fresh ones, but ones that looked years old.

As she washed away dirt and dried blood she tsked, "You are a warrior noble...don't see many of you now." Once she was done the water in the bowl was a dark reddish brown, gritty with dirt as she poured it out in a corner of the cell, watching it get absorbed by stone and dirt.

Still there were things a bath would do that her cleaning could not, but at least now she wasn't worried about infection as she redressed the woman heavy cotton linens, the grayish brown fabric a little rough, but better then what she'd been left in. The herbs and salves that the healer had given her soldiers were helpful in covering the wound that had cut across her eye...though she was unsure if the eye itself would fully heal later like the flesh before she bound it all up. "You're lucky...even without and eye you'll still look pretty." She teased to the unconscious woman.

When it was all said and done she relaxed, pulling up a rough wooden chair near the bed as she propped her feet up against the frame of it as she tended to her own wound given to her before. Fenra would wait here until the other woke up. It would be a while till she had records, and the only other thing to do right now was sleep and tonight's little excitement had proven a little too rousing for her tired mind to lull itself into a sleep just yet.

[SYNTHIA VI'WIESSRITT]

The rays from the sun ran across Synthia's face causing her eyes to twitch and slowly open in a hesitant wink of the eyelids. As she awoke she stretched her back and took in a deep breathe. It is then she noticed her situation. Someone had washed her, changed her clothes and re-wrapped her wounds. Who? Who would do this she thought. She continued on this progression of thought emitting that if she was the one who had done the capturing no such hospitality would be expressed. From that confession Synthia grew a sick feeling in her stomach. What was it? Was it remorse and disgust in by cruelty or guilt? No, she thought she can't have such feelings. But, yet the feelings did not perish the merely hidden by her military mind's restlessness.

She stretched her hands across the mattress and slowly forced her way into a sitting position on the bed, her wounds still groaning and moaning from sudden movements. The emotions however , did reveal one fact to herself, she her life was saved by the person who was now sleeping in front of her. She gazed at the figure that had saved her. She thought to herself, that the woman looked so beautiful and peaceful in her sleep it is hard to believe she is a foe. Then Synthia, who is commonly known as the Iron Lady or affectionately by her men as the White Countess, did something she hasn't done in a long time. She smiled. And this was no passing grin or chuckle, this was a genuine smile of pleasure and happiness. As her body moved like so her mind recoiled in shock she continuously yelled to herself, WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOP SMILING! SHE IS THE ENEMY! But, her body would not listen. This smile however, did eventually loose out to her mind and the smile faded to a dead frown. Her thoughts then moved to how to escape.

Her mind like that of machine processed every single option left to her until she came to a conclusion that would best befit a Vi'Wiessritter warrior and Countess. If she could not fight her way out she will use this woman as the means to he escape and a Vi'Wiessritter tradition would be the greatest medium to employ her in.