Joyce
The marketplace bustled with life and smells and noises. The stalls surrounded Corvid at all sides. The smell of food carts filled with pot stickers, coconut desserts, spiced meats, sticky buns and so much more drift past her. She wanted to try all of them.

Corvid was bent over one of the stalls, inspecting loaves of bread for quality. She licked her lips in anticipation, already planning her day of relaxation. Guilt tugged at her mind, wanting to pull at her feet to a consignment board instead. She didn't have time to sit around and eat; she needed work to pay for these luxuries. Yet the allure of the foods and the dazzling displays in the marketplace occupied her mind. Her stomach growled loudly.
Bart
As the bustling marketplace pulsed with activity, amidst the throng, a striking young woman draped in black— Corvid, gracefully made her way through the maze of stalls and merchants. Yet, amid the chaos, a vision in white captivated nearly every gaze. Helena, a young noble, commanded attention with her ethereal presence, adorned in a resplendent white gown embellished with exquisite jewels and regal ornaments.

In her delicate grasp, she held a bouquet of meticulously arranged flowers befitting her royal stature, while a beautiful parasol shielded her porcelain, white skin from the relentless sun. Her entrance, though commanding, carried an effortless grace that seemed woven into her very being.

By her side, a maid, who wore a cloak, navigated the enchanted crowd with hurried steps, only to stumble over nothing and then colliding with Corvid, her landing punctuated by a resounding thud. "Oh, my apologies!" She exclaimed instinctively, a reflex honed by her service within the esteemed household of her young mistress.
Carol
Corvid nearly stumbled over, as she hadn't braced herself. Though she felt it - and heard it - as the woman who bumped into her made it rather obvious. She didn't feel a hand slip into her pockets, so it was an accident. Still, she wasn't the type to let it go.

Corvid grabbed the wrist of the maiden and gave an eerie smile. *"My, you should be more careful,"* She said, poison laced in her sugary tone. Her eyes fell upon the other women— even more dazzling than the drab of muted colors around her. The bouquet of flowers covered her front, and the shade of the intricate parasol fell upon the ground overwhelmingly. 

Corvid saw all of this before her without letting the maiden's hand go. *"Is this your master...?"* She mused. *"You really should be more careful. You never know who could be around the corner."* There was something deranged about Corvid's eyes, the way they constricted with that smile never faltering. 

Worse yet, she was staring at the noblewoman as she spoke. There was much curiosity in her affairs. Corvid had the feeling she wanted to know more.
Bart
The young maiden's yelp echoed through the air as her wrist was firmly grasped by Corvid, whose strength matched her rugged beauty. In an instant, the maid's apologetic expression melted into one of sheer horror as she met Corvid's intense gaze.

Speechless and paralyzed with terror, the maid stood motionless, her mind racing with desperation to escape the alarming situation. With a flicker of hope, she glanced towards her mistress, praying for intervention to extricate her from the unnerving predicament.

To her immense relief, Helena glided gracefully towards the pair, her elegant presence calming the tension in the air. "Oh my, what a troublesome situation you find yourself in, Elizabeth," She remarked, teasing lilt underlying her serene voice. Turning her attention to Corvid, Helena's curiosity piqued by the sudden display of aggression in public.

"And you," She continued, her tone firm yet tinged with curiosity, "Would you kindly release my dear servant? She seems rather uncomfortable in your rather forceful grip." Her words carried an almost imperious command, softened by a gentle smile playing at the corners of her lips, while her eyes were formed into arcs. Despite her angelic appearance, Helena exuded an eerie aura, hinting at depths beyond her ethereal beauty.
Carol
Elizabeth, the maid, looked terrified. She hated the smell of fear. It left her with no sense of scale, permeated the air and muddied up all of her analytics. Even then, it was all Corvid's fault anyway. She always struck fear and inspired pain, and always complained about her own doing. 

The noblewoman gracefully made her way toward them, locking gazes with Corvid. It was icy and just as layered as her own. That shame light shade cauled in flame, the atmosphere burning in their wake. A woman of stature. The moment was infinitesimal, the two women staring at each other as if gauging the scene and all its danger. 

Of course, there was none. Corvid played rough, but it was just that: Play. 

She released her grip on the maid's wrist. "You know, she could've really hurt me," Drawled Corvid. "My body is important to me, you see. If I was to get hurt, I wouldn't be able to duel anymore. How would I make money then?" She leaned in to Helena, grinning.

"Would you take responsibility for her actions, then?"
Bart
Trembling, Elizabeth sought refuge behind Helena, her heart pounding with fear. As a humble servant devoid of magical abilities or combat skills, she couldn't fathom facing such a threat alone, let alone defending her mistress- Helena.

Upon hearing Corvid's exaggerated distress, Helena suppressed an elegant chuckle behind her gloved hand. "Oh, my dear, are you truly so vulnerable to be injured by a mere stumble? With such fragility, finding employment seems a daunting prospect indeed," She remarked, her words laced with subtle mockery.

However, adopting a more serious tone, Helena turned her attention to Corvid. "Nevertheless, as a noblewoman, it is my solemn duty to ensure the safety and well-being of those under my care. If you were to suffer harm, I would feel compelled to extend assistance and perhaps even consider offering you a position suitable to your talents," She explained, her smile warm and reassuring as she approached Corvid.

Leaning in gracefully, Helena scrutinized Corvid's face and the rugged attire she wore. "Hmm..." She murmured, her curiosity piqued by the stranger before her and thinking of what she might have to offer her.
Carol
Corvid's smile never faltered with the double edged words of the noblewoman. Fragility... Perhaps once she was like that, and maybe still in the face of greater warriors. Though, that wasn't Corvid's call to make. It's been a while since she'd last gotten into a serious scuffle— what was it again, pirates in her homeland? That was the day she learned to fight dirty.

The noblewoman took on a serious air and offered assistance. Her smile grew brighter, teeth almost bared...

Then she pulled away and gave a lighthearted grin, her aura shifting tremendously. *"So you two won't object to eating some food with me as recompense? Wonderful. Follow me, please. My favorite food stall is not far."*

Corvid began to walk without waiting for an answer— surely they were bound to her request, now. *"By the way, most people call me Corvid."* She stepped ahead of them and swiftly turned around, walking backwards with practiced ease and care without fear of bumping into anyone. As the noblewoman deduced, she was faking her worries. 

She placed a hand to her chin. *"I'm not so familiar with the aristocrats of this land. I assume you're one of them? You're not trying your best to hide that, y'know,"* She mused.
Bart
With Corvid striding ahead, not even awaiting a reply, Helena gently shook her head, realizing she might have entangled herself in a troublesome situation. Nonetheless, she cast a reassuring smile at her servant, Elizabeth. "Fear not, I shall ensure she poses no threat to you." Her eyes curved into arcs as she followed Corvid's lead, taking out a white jewel-adorned hand fan in the process that complemented her intricate day gown of the same color.

As they walked, Corvid turned around, nonchalantly walking backwards, oblivious to her surroundings. Helena observed her poised demeanor, deducing that their new acquaintance was accustomed to navigating the streets—a testament to Corvid's rather active lifestyle.

"...So, your name is Corvid, hm? Well, as you've surmised, I am indeed of noble lineage - Grand Duchess Helena Belarus, is my name." She replied with a gentle tone, her hand fan unfurled to shield her mouth as she spoke. Her every movement exuded an air of elegance befitting her high status.

Continuing the conversation, Helena asked about Corvid's background. "And you? I presume you hail from a foreign land... Or perhaps a distant kingdom? Your choice of attire hints that you're from Kazumaki," She suggested, tilting her head slightly before closing her regal fan.

"But that might just be my assumption. Correct me if I am wrong."
Carol
*"Grand Duchess Helena Belarus..."* Echoed Corvid. The name didn't ring familiar. She didn't quite understand court politics nor did she know the scale of importance to which each chess piece held dominion over, but all that never mattered to her anyway. She never had a reason to think of it. All she could see was the glaring display of wealth before her. The dress Helena wore didn't look cheap or shabbily made, not a sew out of line. Her hands were clean and free of scars, and the fan she so delicately held was chock full of jewelry. Was she not afraid of being robbed? Corvid kept her mouth shut about that. That kind of thing assumes rational self-interest among people, and people just aren't *Rational.* 

*"Oh? Yes, Kazumaki..."* She rolled her eyes. *"Great place for opportunity. Terrible for growth. I simply couldn't stay there any longer,"* She replied. Corvid turned around to face where she was walking and continued her march. Her clothes, skintight and black and faded, and her baggy coat whose color gave away its age, and the half complete cuisses and sabatons on her legs. She seemed an average warrior at best. A nobody most people wouldn't take seriously. 

*"There it is."*

They came upon a large stall, savory smells wafting through the air. It was a noodle shop. Gathered around them was a decent enough crowd so as to lose themselves in conversation, and in the stall itself a large and burly man chopped away at vegetables like it was second nature, and men walked past with their laughs loud and boisterous as they left the shop, leaving three seats open to sit at the counter of the vendor. 

Corvid slid into a seat at the end, leaving the other two for Helena and her maiden to sit next to each other. With a whistle, she hailed the shopkeep and tossed down some rigel, holding up three fingers. He nodded.

*"Come on, don't be shy now, Duchess,"* Corvid called back with a grin.
Joyce
Hey, lmk whenever ur free to respond. I might be running slow today

Hey, if u cant rlly respond thats fine ^^ just pls let me know beforehand
Rene
Oh fk I forgot this HELP I MADE A RESPONDE TO MIKE IM SORRY, ILL WRITE ONE NOW AHHA WAIT
Bart
Helena was the type of a noblewoman who flaunted her beauty, strength, and riches to assert dominance over others. As for concerns about robbery, Helena dismissed them for two reasons: firstly, her wealth afforded her the luxury of retrieving anything lost, with the money she used being mere trifles compared to the duchy's affairs; and secondly, her strength and magical prowess deterred any attempts, ensuring would-be thieves faced the wrath of her magic and artifacts.

Upon hearing Corvid's low murmur of her name, Helena raised a brow—was Corvid truly so uninformed? Or perhaps she simply lacked exposure to political figures or those renowned for their beauty across the land. The truth remains unknown.

As Corvid began discussing her homeland, the duchess observed her hesitancy and disinterest, as if her past were but a distant memory. Sensing this detachment from her tone and demeanor, Helena saw no need to delve further, harboring little interest in Corvid's past or strong opinions about Kazumaki. Yet, she found herself somewhat aligned with the woman's perspective, albeit to a limited extent.

With her lips sealed, the scent of the stall wafted through the gentle breeze, evoking not hunger but rather a faint sense of revulsion. She scrutinized the stall, deeming it unsuitable by her lofty standards, pondering the unhygienic nature of its existence and the person who presided over it. Concealing her disdain behind a facade of civility, she maintained a pretentious smile as they strolled onward.

Elizabeth felt her apprehension wane, her perception of the woman undergoing a subtle shift. Nonetheless, she remained vigilant; their encounter with Corvid had been but a brief interlude.

Elizabeth took the initiative, pulling out a chair for her mistress to occupy, to which Helena hesitantly acquiesced. Without hesitation, she settled into the seat beside her.

One seated, Helena leans over towards Corvid a little, "This... Appears to be a humble establishment. Pray, what draws you to the fare here? Considering your recent search for employment, are you in want of funds, or does the cuisine possess some exceptional quality?" Helena whispered with a note of concern, visibky unsettled by their surroundings.
Carol
No sooner than the three had taken their seat, three bowls were set harshly on the counter by the cook. He gave a grunt before setting off to his duties again. 

Large bowls of noodles, steaming and aromatic. Within the broth were thick egg noodles, cooked eggs, ginger, spring onions, cabbage dressing, garlic, and fish cakes. They all simmered with fiery eagerness, the smell of umami in the air. Corvid smiled to herself before picking up her utensils. 

Helena may have tried to hide it well, but the tic of her face said it all. She paid no mind to it; this wasn't some overpriced garbage spot they were eating at, based on her own word. Ari Kovacs never settled for bad food.

*"What draws me is the food, naturally. And the contacts, of course. I should think you'd know about connections, Duchess,"* She replied before taking a hearty bite. Any mercenary worth their salt had friends - associates - in the heart of kingdoms. Whispered words were worth their weight in gold in the right circles. As a child she'd seen glimpses, mostly. A few extended vignettes, treacly invaginations in progress, painstaking plans that would presumably lead to even greater heights. Now she could fully partake in those circles, with a good advocate in her pocket. 

Of course, there was also sheer luck. 

*"Funds... Money comes and goes. Profit is always enticing, of course. I originally came here along with a pale sutler whose goods were in need of protection along the path."* Corvid remembered the intensity of the landscape upon which she travelled with the caravan. He was a wry and grinning tradesman who she wouldn't trust with much except money, but it ended up being a worthwhile trip. 

*"As for the cuisine?"* Halfway done with her bowl, Corvid looked up at Helena with surprise. So she couldn't exactly tell. What an odd behavior for someone in a position of leadership, she thought to herself— but she decided to humor her anyway.

Corvid pointed at the large, hulking cook and spoke in a hushed tone, *"That man's handiwork with a knife doesn't come from gutting pheasants. He understands campaign. Feeds lots of adventurers with big plates for low prices. The kind of place you'd want to go before an adventure."*

She picked up her bowl to drink the rest of the broth and slammed it down, sighing heavily. *"Besides... It's good food. So, why is a duchess walking around with the commons, hm?"*