How dare she. A young woman moved slowly down one of the streets of Pemberton, one hand lightly pressed against the curve of her slender waist as she did so. Clothed entirely in scarlet, she stuck out like a flame in the darkness among the others moving along the street, if only because she deigned to break such a cardinal rule. After all, red was merely for the highest of the nobility. For her to wear it was one of the greatest insults that she could pay the Duke and Duchess of Pemberton, in her not-so-humble opinion. Yet, there was a more practical reason, of course, being that her other gown was incredibly inadequate to this one in terms of drawing a male eye toward her figure, and Raven very much desired to eat once more. She lightly lifted her gaze, focusing on the setting sun that bathed her in swatches of orange and crimson, highlighting strands of copper in her hair and bringing out the licks of green within her hazel eyes. With the darkness threatening to swallow the land in very short succession, all that she could do was hope that a customer would come across her, one that she could draw into her clutches. Until such a thing happened, however...her thoughts were far occupied elsewhere. How dare she. Even as she traced the sillouettes of the buildings and the people moving down the street, she felt as if she was not focusing on them at all. Nay, her thoughts moved instead to a noblewoman, one that she knew lived nearby this very city of Sutton, in Roseworth Manor. Unbidden, her gaze switched to the manor swathed in pink and felt the slightest of smirks come to her lips.

The woman's name was Victoria, that Raven knew, and somewhere beneath that incredibly pale skin and dark hair she had to have some sort of magical power. In no other way could the renowned Captain Gavin North be changed. From the instant that she met him, Raven remembered the odd attraction that she had to that quiet arrogance, that innate sense of power and control that he'd exercised so effortlessly without even intending to. He rarely grinned, but anytime that he released the minutest of smirks, she always felt her heart thudding a little quicker against her ribcage. Even as she attempted to lure him into her trap, trick him into wanting her and paying her for a night, he always avoided her deftly, moving just a few paces past her to another girl who was neither as pretty nor as enthralling as Raven. Years passed, even, at least four, though Raven knew that she had lost count, before she snapped. It had been their first fight, and God, was it a fight. Raven swore at times that she could still feel the bruises and the cuts, even taste the sharpness of his blood when he finally descended to devour her lips with an expertise that she never imagined that he might have. He took her furiously and quickly, yet torturing her all the while with the pure passion that she felt fusing them together. It was as they lay there, panting in the aftermath as Raven wiped a bit of blood from the cut on her cheek where he had hit her, that she realized that she was hopelessly addicted.

Gavin, for quite a bit of time, didn't seem to share her thoughts. He was gone within minutes, and Raven was left behind to bathe a worn rag in water and dab gently at the scrapes, cuts, and bruises all across her frame. She fancied at that moment that she could even get used to the dusting of tiny bruises across her arms and shoulders, ones that she knew came from his deft fingers, if only because the pain coming from him felt so good. Raven sucked in a deep breath, pulling back from her memories, and ignored the lurch of her abdomen as she did so. No more of that. Gavin consumed her memories all too often. Nay, now she knew that she had elsewhere to focus, like on the lass that took him away from her. Keeping her eyes situated on Roseworth Manor, Raven's other hand brushed a bit of her wavy, shiny hair away from her face as her lips curved into a tiny smirk.

What could she do to get at that woman? Obviously, she would need to get within the walls of Roseworth Manor somehow, even if only into the courtyard, where she could study this Victoria girl a little more. But how? If she could manipulate a noble into taking her for the evening, perhaps, then it would make things a great deal easier. However, she also knew that she could not afford to be picky at this moment in time. Lightly biting her bottom lip so as to lift a bit of blood to it and make it all the more red, Raven turned her eyes to the people passing through the dusk, no doubt hoping to make it home before the night completely arrived. It was only a matter of time, then. Forcing a sultriness into her naturally intense eyes, Raven hooded them lightly with her lids and felt the smirk return to her lips. Jutting her chest out into the air and putting her weight on one foot in order to draw attention to the soft curve of her hip as well, Raven lifted her chin and turned on the charm. Just a matter of time.

It was unusual for Conrad to be out on the streets at this time of night, unusual, but not unheard of. He liked a nice cup of beer just as much as the other and beer could only be drunk when it was cold and when the sun was setting. Beer or something stronger, he craved a drink of Schnapps, the liquid he had been raised with. Heavy spirit it was, a witch that mystified you after the second cup, with a blessing during the night and a curse at the morning light. He knew all of this, he knew that it would make him slower, more silent and offer him bliss and then, when his shift started anew, his eyes would water from the light and he’d crave darkness once more. Conrad smiled to himself, already dreaming of the clear liquid with its colourful taste, or of amber drink, chilled to tantalize the tongue. He wasn’t a drunkard or prone to excess, but he had the thirst and nobody could be denied a drink once in a while now could he?

That was why he walked the streets now, dressed in a grey cloak to ward of the chill that would come later at night when alcohol had widened his veins, his beret-like hat settled firmly on his head and out of his normal uniform. He carried his sword with him though, just in case, along with the ring that identified him as a guard. Shit tended to go down when people got drunk and well, he was the proverbial scat man in that regard. He didn’t use a shovel though, he used his mitts and his sword.

He walked towards a little stall on the marketplace that was already in the act of being disassembled and bought the last of today’s meat rolls, still a little warm from the open fire they had lain on a while ago. He had learned that the best way to keep alcohol from hitting you immediately was some nice fat food, meat, bread, whatever. You needed a layer to keep the alcohol from hitting your blood all at once, then it was easy to adapt to the slow loss of certain instincts. Not that he usually drunk that much, but it was good to be prepared.

Conrad bit softly into the soft meat of the roll, it was fat and didn’t taste all too bad, something that didn’t surprise him. The former Landsknecht was easy when it came to food, as long as it wasn’t moving anymore, he was cool with it. He had spent too many nights without supplies to complain about some meat rolls from a market stall. He licked the gravy of his fingers to keep it from staining his mantle or clothes and returned his right hand back to the pommel of his blade, walking among the roads of beaten dirt until something caught his eye…

The girl was beautiful, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. Normally it would’ve, but this time what caught his eye was that she wore red. Red was a colour he was used to in the Manor, but not on the streets. Red was the colour of the Pemberton livery and only they were allowed to wear it. The only reason that Conrad wore a dark red doublet sometimes was because of that. Right now, his doublet was black, but that didn’t matter. He slowly walked up to her and greeted her by tipping his hat with his left hand, his right one hidden in the folds of his cloak on the grip of his sword.

”Ma’am…”

He looked her over covertly, probably a street blossom what she was. A rose among them, but a damsel of pleasure all the same. He continued with a level voice, not betraying any emotion in eyes nor speech.

”Are you aware of the fact that your dress is a punishable offence?”

She heard his footsteps, but for whatever reason didn't turn her head to glance toward him. In fact, she could nearly fancy that she felt his presence before she even heard his steps. It was an odd thought, even within her very interesting mind, but it made a bit of strange sense to her as well. With her gaze still turned down the street, Raven felt a strange prickling sensation across her back, lifting fine, feminine hairs that were barely distinguishable to the touch from the small of her back to the base of her spine. A chill raced down her arms, and she only just repressed a shiver before turning her head barely and catching the sound of his steps. Raven froze in her movement, focusing on the quiet, yet forceful sound, attempting to distinguish where it was coming from. At an abrupt change of direction and speed, a rather trademark smirk of hers came across her full lips. Just a matter of time indeed, she thought mischievously. When she was altogether completely certain that he was heading directly for her, Raven lifted a hand to nudge another soft curl away from her forehead and looked over her shoulder to the man, taking in the relative largeness of his shadow. Raven wasn't a master at these sorts of things for nothing. Within the span of a second, she focused intently on the various muscles, tendons, and bones within her arm and shoulder, adjusting them flawlessly until they were in what she knew was their most attractive stance. Come on, little one. She alighted her gaze on the man's head when he tipped the oddly shaped hat to her, and the smirk across her lips grew only a bit more.

There were only a few moments to examine the man before him, but Raven took advantage of them as well as she possibly could. It was no wonder that she felt him before she even heard him. The man simply exuded masculinity, in one of the most attractive ways possible. Not only was he a head taller than her, maybe even slightly more, but his broad shoulders betrayed the strength of his form. He looked a wee bit older than many of the individuals in Pemberton, given the tone of his skin, but Raven found that oddly attractive. After all, one could never complain about a certain degree of experience. After glancing over the man's face, she determined that he must be stubborn, given his square chin, but promptly decided that it mattered not. Raven was one of the more stubborn wenches down at the Pirate's Cove for a great deal of time. Though she never planned to return, it was too easy to pretend that her reputation was going to follow her. It was his eyes, however, that spurred a bit of amusement to grow within her chest. They seemed altogether determined not to reveal a speck of emotion, no matter what it might be. Fair enough, Raven's stubborn nature chided. We shall see how long he can hold such neutrality in the face of me.

His words, especially his last, tugged at that amusement of hers until she surrendered a soft, low chuckle. The smirk promptly returned, but one could still see a gleam of humor in her sultry hazel eyes battling the intensity that rested within. Was he aware of his words, truly? After all, it was all too obvious that Raven was a prostitute, though one of the cleaner ones as well. Surely this man wasn't such a fool not to know that she would twist his words carefully, as deftly as the man before her might wield a blade. She'd had few experiences with officers within the bounds of Adesia, as most of the time she was using any possible way to avoid any altercations with them, but she could still tell that part of this man's identity was definitely in relation to the Pemberton guard. She hoped for a moment that whatever she said wouldn't serve to provoke him a great deal. And yet...she knew it would be too terribly fun if it did. Garnering her smirk again, Raven lifted her heated eyes to the man's steely ones. "Evening, sir," she began, taking full advantage of the huskiness of her low, alto tone. It was altogether too easy to manipulate weaker men with only a few words with her voice, but she knew that it would take a bit longer before she could figure out if her tone had an effect on the man in front of her.

Her hands rested on her figure, one on the curve of her waist and the other against her thigh, and gently pulled at the fabric of her gown. "Oh, really, sir?" Raven drawled, abandoning the man's eyes in favor of looking down at her frame as her hands minutely shifted, the one on her waist caressing along to her stomach with teasing slowness. "I confess that I had no idea." Moving her figure as coyly as a serpent, her torso weaved slightly to the side, emphasizing the curves of her hips and chest as expertly as Raven could. She looked up at the man beneath her lashes, lightly running her tongue across her lips to moisten them, before dropping her voice to a mere purr. "Tell me, sir, what...punishment do you have in mind?" The smirk returned to her dusky red lips as she lifted a brow, an inner challenge within that mere movement. "Surely a strong man like yourself must have an interesting mind."

This wasn’t an ordinary street girl, Conrad noted. He was a mercenary and had had more than a passing familiarity with the kind of woman she was. Prostitutes were a large part of a camp’s following and nothing could get a man’s lust running like a brush with death and blood. In some senses, bloodlust and regular lust worked the same. The heart pumped blood faster, the eyes dilated to let in more light and your energy tripled. No, Conrad had his share of sins and they weren’t all in the direction of mutilation and murder. Whatever though, God would forgive him, for Conrad was what He had created. If the lord had wanted another priest and celibate, he would’ve made him differently.

She wasn’t phased, for instance. She wasn’t surprised that he was a guard, out this late at night, she wasn’t surprised that she had gotten something else than she had most likely been fishing for. She wasn’t afraid either, not to be thrown into a dark, dank cell for her misdeed. That of course wasn’t that special in itself. Hookers tended to be tough ladies, especially the kind that worked for themselves. Those were real feral cats, but though she might have some of that iron, she wasn’t feral. She wasn’t afraid, but she was careful and played that like a virtuoso would play the violin. The woman smiled slowly, her full lips curling into a grin that was a form of defiance and challenge in itself, her eyes warm with the promises of warmth. Conrad kept his cool even as she began to speak with a voice that was sweet as honey, thick and sweet, slowly dripping with that almost velvet-like caress.

"Evening, sir.”

She turned her body slightly, pulling that dress into all kinds of new and interesting forms, making the fabric envelop her more like running water than real cloth and slowly skimming across that wealthy sea of red with her hands, sending small ripples across. Waves of possibility and imagination…

"Oh, really, sir? I confess that I had no idea."

Like hell she didn’t, but whether she had known or not wasn’t a part of the question. She had broken the law and there would be consequences, unless she could pay the fine that would mean a week in the goal, something most people didn’t look forwards to. An with good reason, Conrad had spent some time in jails after a rowdy night in time and it was never pleasant. Dark, dank, rats and the like. Plus, the food was absolutely horrible. The lady in front of him turned slightly and dropped her voice to a low whisper, a warm purr that sent a ripple across his flesh. Her pink tongue slowly slid across her fiery red lips, caressing them with a naughty sheen.

"Tell me, sir, what...punishment do you have in mind? Surely a strong man like yourself must have an interesting mind."

His posture remained stiff and his hand rested still on the butt of his sword, the other curled slightly at his side. His had watched her movement when she had left them, but now that she looked up again, he didn’t allow them to wander, even though the sight was quite interesting. He noted with a detached kind of objectivity that his heart rate had increased and that there was some more sweating than before, but he wasn’t going to lose his cool.

”The punishment, ma’am, is either paying a fine or spending a week in the gaol. I suggest that you pay if possible, the prison is not a pleasant place.”

Interesting. Other than the light sheen that was beginning to coat his forehead, the man didn't seem to be very affected by either her movements or her tone. It took all of the actress within Raven to keep the smirk plastered to her lips and the heat in her gaze and not revert to a sort of oddly confused state. Obviously pirates were all too easy to seduce. ...Hmph. Well. No matter. I'll get him soon enough. It was unlikely that the man was a eunuch, after all. Or was he? Raven let her unabashed gaze sweep over the man before her from head to toe, as if taking in just how masculine he might be. He exuded it, aye, which was more than she could say for many of the other men that she came across. They were either entirely abusive or entirely passive. Then again, the second kind always served to entertain her the most. They glanced over their shoulders timidly as they counted out a few coins, making sure that their wives didn't come after them with a rolling pin or any other such silly thing. They always waited for her to make the first move, and served to be more frightened of her than anything else. She laughed internally, though remained silent on the outside, dragging her gaze back up to the man's face. Nay, he certainly didn't seem like that sort of sissy pansy man. Perhaps he merely needed a little more...coaxing. Feeling the challenge race through her veins, Raven brushed another lock away from her face and jutted her hip out slightly as she situated her other hand on her waist.

"So stern, sir?" Once again, Raven purred, keeping her gaze situated on the man's cold eyes now. She batted her eyelashes coquettishly to feel him out a bit and to see how he reacted to such a thing. If she was to be honest with herself, she most definitely did not have enough money to pay any such fine. She needed something to live on, after all, and she was definitely not sleeping with the innkeeper again in exchange for a room. Any time that she did, she felt dirtier than when she'd shared a bed with the nastiest of pirates back at the Pirate's Cove. Honestly, the man could at least clean his hands before bruising her with them. It was that thought that brought another question to her mind as her eyes danced to the man's arms and hands, one of which rested on the hilt of his sword. ...Wonder if he's rough. After her tenuous relationship with Captain Gavin North, Raven had come to understand that exposure to any sort of violence did little but lift her own passion. That was perhaps why she was one of the better known wenches of the Pirate's Cove. Unlike the other soiled doves, as the nobility of Harleston called her kind, Raven would not cower from the rougher men and their actions but would instead give as hard as the men did. She couldn't count the number of black eyes and bloody nail scratches she'd given the customers that could afford her back home.

Home. HA. Like the Pirate's Cove could be a home. A momentary sense of bitterness filled her that she enjoyed Adesia more than she'd even enjoyed the Cove, especially after the death of her mother. Hush now. There was no time for such thoughts. Weakness, that was all that they were. No, she had money to earn if at all possible, and a fine to wiggle her way out of if she could. Then again, Raven had always been simply delightful at wiggling. Forcing away any fluttering sensations in her chest that might speak of nervousness, Raven lifted her chin rather nobly to stare up at the man who was so much taller than her with that same heated look. "Stern, but strong," she murmured, almost to herself, tracing his face before settling on his eyes again with that coy smirk of hers. "I like a strong man. They just make me..." Raven cut off with a little shiver, as if she'd said too much. Once again, she covertly eyed him, watching for any sort of reaction. The instant that she caught anything that the man might be attracted to, she would jump on it and exploit it for all that it was worth. She'd learned well back at the Cove. She'd learned well with Gavin.

Chuckling low in her chest again, Raven lightly crossed her arms across her chest, emphasizing the upper curves of her chest, before lifting an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound very fun at all, sir. But the money..." Once again, she trailed off, mentally keeping a tally on where indeed her money pouch was on her person at that moment in time. "Surely you wouldn't ask an innocent little woman just passing through like me to pay a fine, would you?" Her eyes glimmered with a bit of amusement, and her smirk morphed a little more into a true smile - or as true as Raven could give, at least - before she tilted her head coyly to the side. "Is there nothing else that I could do, sir, to pay that awful fine?" Raven shifted her weight to her other foot, emphasizing her curves through her tightly-fitted dress almost as a promise.

(OOC. Sorry for not posting yesterday night, but my dad was getting angry for staying up too late so I had to scram before I could fully finish)

Conrad never pretended to be a holy man, never claimed to be a saint. He had his share of vices and sins. He cursed like a sailor, out of the ear of his noble employers and their daughters, he drank, but not to excess, he fought and brawled and he had more than a passing familiarity with what passed between man and wife, out of the wedlock of course. Sins enough, but he figured that a man needed something to think about during church. Besides, his sins were minor compared to those of others and he also did good. Balanced each other out in his opinion.

The Landsknecht also wasn’t as cold as he sometimes pretended to be, not as stoic and solid as his eyes and posture made him seem. He had anger in him, he had sadness and he had, like all men, his fair share of lust. Lust was a dangerous emotion, lust changed you from a man into a beast if you let it get away too far. Lust clouded your mind and twisted your senses so you did not see the dagger coming until it was too late. But lust was and therefore he felt it. The woman in front of his was something worth lusting after, she was beautiful as much as she seemed open about that beauty, flaunting it just enough to make him want to see more, but he kept firm a little while longer. The law was iron and so was he…or could he be.

"So stern, sir?"

Her voice was that very low purr that spoke to more than just his severity and unbending gaze, it spoke to his heart that was hammering in his chest, beneath the ribs and the blood that was quickly draining from his arms and legs to somewhere it liked to be more. Conrad wasn’t stern, if he had been, he would’ve hauled her off to the goal already. Truth be told, somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice, like that of a minor demon, spoke to him. Lust was that demon’s name…and in Conrad it did not fall on deaf ears…Even if the rush of blood and thumping of his heart made things hard to hear…

"Stern, but strong”

She fluttered her warm eyes at him, keeping her eyes half-hidden in a look that could be called nothing but attractive, her chin raised to give him a better view on her slightly wicked smile and her voice still that same seductive song. It felt harder to keep his stiff position, or at least in most places. He could feel that at the back of his neck, a small drop of sweat began forming and slide down his back, sending a shiver through his body that wasn’t at all caused by the contact of warm skin with warm sweat. No, the shiver came for a different reason.

"I like a strong man. They just make me..."

She shivered then, a happy little shiver that mimicked his, it was irritating, but he felt that his breathing had increased more than slightly, probably noticeably now. Damned be his blood that sung hotly and damned be his bones that burned bright. He didn’t know what was best, the crime was a small one, but…

“Doesn't sound very fun at all, sir. But the money…Surely you wouldn't ask an innocent little woman just passing through like me to pay a fine, would you?”

She cut through his thoughts like a hot knife through butter, her vibrant voice making it very hard to keep a clear train of thought. Lust and aggression worked quite the same way and he was quite intoxicated. It was like those moments just before the clash, when your heart was pounding in your ear and all you could think of was that mixture of both fear and excitement, the fear to die and the will to kill. Situation was different of course, but the adrenaline rushed just as fast. His voice stayed calm, but there was a little lilt of possibility now. A bit of a hidden meaning.

”Perhaps…”

She shifted her weight slowly, her arms folded right across her bust and a small smile plastered on her lips, standing like a red rose beneath her blazing green eyes. There was a certain challenge in that pose, one he was getting more and more sure he’d love to take up on. He allowed a little smile to appear in answer, a thin-lipped one. It was all he could do from grinning like an idiot.

"Is there nothing else that I could do, sir, to pay that awful fine?"

He cocked his head to the side slowly, as if thinking the issue over. He didn’t have to though, he was already certain that in some form, they were cutting a deal. It might not be completely official, but these things never were. He had wanted a nice night to begin with and she wanted to be left alone, at least by the guards and law. If it all worked out fine, he was sure that both would get what they wanted. Who knew, he might even give her a little bonus is she was as good as she looked. He nodded then and slowly, very slowly let go of the sword

”I’m sure there could be an alternative to that hefty fine I spoke of…”

He paused for a while, just to let that sink in. He sure as hell wouldn’t mind an alternative punishment for this crime, especially if he could be the one to…extract said punishment. And he would if all things worked out fine, his smile grew just that little bit wider and a small sparkle danced in his eyes, showing that he was indeed talking about the same she talked about.

”But you’d have to work for it…”