|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2018 4:23 pm
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/posts/say/say_b1_p.gif) |
It was only the fact that they were close to the summer that Phryana had not frozen to death, of this, she was certain. Only a scant few months ago, she had been garbed like a queen, attending the finest parties with her chosen companion while savoring delicacies and sweet wines alike. Now... she had her life. That was enough for now. Slowly, Phryana forced her bruised and aching body to respond, rising from her bed of harsh, cold cobblestones as she tried to work some feeling back into her hands and feet.
Hunger was a constant companion to her now, twisting her guts into knots. She ignored it. If she was lucky, she'd be able to entice some drunk passersbys into exchanging some food for a taste of more carnal pleasures. The young woman was painfully aware that she hardly looked her best in this moment. Her face was a mess of dark bruises and welts,only emphasizing hte fresh, pink scar that marred her cheek and throat. Her long, sleek hair was a dirty mess, as was the rest of her. Luxuries like bathing were beyond her, now. Her fingers raked impatiently through the tangled strands, trying to tame them into some semblance of order without luck.
Dark eyes silently roamed across the dingy, filthy alley belonging to the darker parts of Nabol as she worked, unconsciously searching for potential help... or, more likely, threats. Nothing was safe now, but her will to live was too strong to let herself lay down and die. Pride meant nothing now. She'd eat moldy bread and thank the man or woman who gave it to her. As she lost herself in thought, her expression was almost mask-like as she slowly settled back into a crouch among the filthy piles of fabric she'd been using for blankets.
This was not a sustainable life. It was the only one she knew, true... but not even the lowest whorehouses of Nabol wanted to take a woman with such ghastly scars. She would need to look elsewhere if she had any hope of surviving for much longer.
Patiently, Phryana waited. Men would wander down this alleyway sooner or later... and hopefully they were the sort to be bartered with. If not, she knew how to retreat within herself... and once it was all said and done, she would try again, as always.
|
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
|
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/template/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/template/s.gif) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 27, 2018 1:08 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2018 3:12 pm
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/posts/say/say_b1_p.gif) |
Someone was coming.
Phryana continued to comb her fingers through her hair, her eyes downcast, but every inch of her was secretly tense. New people were always an opportunity--and a danger. He was a tall man, and clearly tense as he carefully picked his way down the alleyway. No doubt he was well acquainted with Nabol. Then, she saw something under her lashes that made her pause. Knots on his shoulder--a dragonrider? Her fingers stilled against a particularly nasty knot, her mind racing. This very well could be the opportunity she was searching for. Steeling herself, the young woman slowly tilted her head up, rising to face the stranger.
"Dragonrider," She murmured, not wanting to raise her voice in case it caused her damaged vocal chords to rasp. "Something tells me you haven't come to Nabol in search of pleasure... but, perhaps I can convince you otherwise." Her dark eyes held his for a moment, wondering just what sort of man he was. Some were all too eager to indulge in Nabol's darker pleasures. Others were revolted at the mere thought.
If he was the latter, she'd have to change tactics appropriately. And if he was the former... hopefully her bruised and dirty appearance wasn't too off putting.
|
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/s.gif) |
|
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/template/s.gif) |
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/template/s.gif) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
![](//graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/template/s.gif) |
|
|
|
|
|