Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191209000634/@comment-5583506-20191210042048

Martinus quietly observed the sleeping Khajiit with some interest. In short they would arrive at Anvil's port, and though he had been forbidden from visiting their passenger by the captain he now took his opportunity. He knew he wasn't supposed to be in here, but he just couldn't help but sate his damned curiousity about their mysterious survivor.

Well, that was only partially true. He had been at sea for four months now and hadn't laid eyes on a woman in what felt like forever. To see her up close was like a fantasy come to life. Even more so when he was well made aware of the fact that she wore nothing underneath those thick furs she was lying under. Her dried light armor was seated on a chair just next to the bed, and it just made his imagination run wild. What was she looking like underneath all those blankets? Did she have fur down there as well? He didn't want to admit to the fact that he got excited just by thinking about it, but the truth was there and manifested in his breeches.

He felt a slight shame that such wicked thoughts even crossed his mind, but with what right could anyone judge him, he thought. He was young. He had never been with a woman, yet alone seen anyone naked, if not as drawings in one of those books the Temple of the Divines liked to confiscate. At this point, he didn't even care about the fact that she was a Khajiit.

He bit his underlip as he cautiously approached her bed. Just a quick peek, and that would be it, he told himself over and over. No harm done, right? He just wanted to see her - all of her.

He leaned over her, subtly checking to see whether or not she was aware that he was there. She didn't even make a sound as she slept. Poor thing must have been out cold. He then ever so carefully lifted the top of the furs to take a little peek of what was waiting underneath.

She was all clad in fur, dark and foreboding. She had a pair of small, but shapely breasts, just the size of two clenched fists. She was rather thin, but had a pair of curvacious, rounded hips. He tried to spot what awaited beyond those, but was only met with complete darkness. It was in this darkness he became aware of two white-yellowish lights shining back at him in the corner of his eye. As he turned his head he soon came to realize that she was fully awake and stared at him with a most unsettling gaze. Her lips were pursed and drawn all the way back, exposing her rows of gleaming teeth. She was livid.

As quick as a viper, Martinus had barely a chance to tell what was going on, before her claws had found their way against his face, ripping his right cheek open with three red, fleshy stripes. He stumbled backwards and collapsed against a footstool, covering the side of his face as his hands quickly became stained with crimson.

"Touch this one again, and Kashya will aim go for your throat next", the Khajiit hissed.

Martinus trembled. The hardness in his breeches had been changed to an unpleasant warm and wet sensation. She had certainly caught him unaware. "I-I didn't m-mean to", he stuttered. "I... I was just thinking ..."

"This one knows what you were thinking", the Khajiit interrupted and adjusted the furs to cover herself up, grabbing her armor from the chair. "This one knows what most men are thinking. Has experienced most of it too, she has. So do not trie to lie to Kashya."

As Martinus was about to reply, he heard the stomping of the captain's boots approaching the cabin. "Alright, Khajiit. Here is where you get off and ..." Arnolf stopped in the doorway to observe the bloodied Martinus, still clutching to his gaping wounds and the Khajiit in the bed, tightly clutching to the furs she was embedded in. "What the hell is going on here?"

Kashya glared at Martinus with an annihilating stare. "Indecent insubordination", she stated with contempt in her voice.

"I was not talking to you, cat", Arnolf said sternly and stared Martinus down. "Martinus, what were you doing in here?"

"Captain, I ..."

"I specifically told you not to come in here."

"I just wanted to ..." He groaned as his hands became all the more red and wet.

"Get the hell out of here", Arnolf ordered the mate, and the lad eagerly scurried past both the survivor and the master of the ship like a shamed badger, desperately looking for Ravin the healer.

Arnolf then turned to Kashya. "What did he do?" he inquired.

"He looked at this one ... while she was sleeping. Or rather pretended to, because she has little trust to spare."

"Huh", Arnolf grumbled, followed by a sigh. "Should put him in the arrest for that, but I do not think that will be necessary. I will definitely have to give him a stern talking to. Maybe a good thrashing later on, once those wounds have fully healed. I demand discipline on this ship. Forgive him though, if you can. He is a good lad. A stupid, horny lad, but a lad all the same."

"This one will not", the Khajiit said, the contempt in her voice slowly waning. She began to dress herself underneath the furs, feeling uncomfortable about the whole idea that the moments when she had been sleeping there might have been someone in there to watch her.

"I figured as much", Arnolf replied. "Nevertheless, do try to have some understanding. He is both young and dumb, and probably hasn't seen a woman naked, even in his own dreams. There are a lot of lonely men in my crew, but none as desperate as to breach my orders."

Kashya didn't reply to any of those statements, but finished up dressing, shoving the heavy furs aside. "Anvil port, you said?"

"Aye", Arnolf said. "This is where we will lay anchor for a couple of days. Mayhaps you will find your friends here? I know it's not my business, but I think you would be better of in good company than to continue doing ..." He eyed her two short blades on the chair warily, watching as she took them up. " ... your line of work."

Kashya remained still and silent for a moment, as if taking what he said under consideration, before strapping on the bow and her two kukris. "This one has no friends", she reminded him.

"So you said", the captain replied with a disappointed expression on his face. "Well, I wish you good fortune in whatever endeavour you so choose to pursue. But a word of advice, Kashya; do not take your life for granted so lightly."

The Khajiit's gaze shifted reflectively, before she headed out of the cabin, listening to the ship bells ringing in the sight of land.

Once ashore she wandered down the bridge on unsteady legs. She had barely gotten to use them for days on end. And she had only been consuming liquid food abord ''The Pale Coil. ''She barely had any strength to spare, and no gold to pay for a room at the inn or food.

She supposed that she could catch a rat or two to feast upon, but Anvil, even for a port city, looked sparkling clean and free of the pests.

She looked around. She had never considered herself to be in this sort of predicament at any point before, but for the first time in her life there was absolutely nothing driving her forward. Not even the desire to learn all what death entailed. She had presumably lost her gold in the explosion or maybe the captain had taken it as compensation for her rescue while she was out cold.

For the first time in her life she felt ... lost. This was the second time she had died, only to come back, feeling just the same as she had for the last couple of years. The feeling of not fitting in, the feeling that she did not belong, and that there was nothing for her here. No reason to live, nothing to strive for, no happiness, no love, no, family, no friends, nothing. Just an empty space.

She couldn't even recollect there being anything after the explosion. No bright light implying there was an afterlife. No voices calling to her from beyond. Just nothing. Not even a void her brothers and sisters of the guild would refer to as the Dread Father.

She found herself standing there on the bridge. Only once a distant ship bell rang did she come to her senses. For how long had she been still? A couple of drops landed on her head. Rain would soon fall.

She blinked and looked around, halfway expecting to find the group standing there somewhere. Perhaps looking for her, but she soon realized that they must have moved on. She couldn't fault them for that. They were just doing what she expected them to. She supposed that in a sense, she missed them. She had gotten used to having them around her all the time, even if it disturbed her concentration. Without them she found herself back at familiar ground. And it was beginning to get hard for her to discern whether it was a pleasant or uncomfortable feeling.

As the rain came sweeping in over the coastline, she sought cover at the cemetery, sitting down on the steps of a crypt with just some outjutting roof as protection from the harsh weather.

She just couldn't understand the world around her. Her entire existence was meaningless and yet even when she stormed into danger headfirst, trying to make some sense out of it all, she was being kept alive. Even the sea had spat her back, founding her hard to digest.

Bad blood, her father's words echoed, and she found the statement all the more true the further she reflected on it.

As she sat by the steps and stared into the foul weather, the shapes slowly returned and faded into her field of vision. Men, women, children and elderly. They all drifted between the tombs, looking for a reason behind their state of being. Just the same as she.

She leaned with her head towards one of the crypt pillars, waiting for the rain to pass. Maybe the rats had all simply gone into hiding out of fear of the weather?