Margaret
Amunet always enjoyed any reason to go to the Riable Isles. The sight of so much water still absolutely thrilled the desert-dweller, no matter how many times she'd seen it. Though the ocean called up things she'd rather keep locked away, the fascination with the beauty of nature won out above all. This particular time, she'd come out to help a set of small villages along the coast rebuild. A particularly terrible storm had leveled every single house and hut across 3 villages along the coast. She had already been near enough by that she wanted to lend a hand when she heard about it. She was far more dexterous than strong, so she took on jobs that required climbing and precision. 

It was always so nice, being among the common people. ***The more remote, the better***, she thought with a small smile. She often got tired of the bowing and scraping of nobility. In further villages from Rhakotis, in more remote locales, she could just pretend to be any other adventurer who wanted to lend a helping hand. She still did her work in the name of Elira, because she loved people and wanted to see them happy, doing well. But it didn't have to feel like a show, she didn't have to perform. For things like this, she even tried to dress down, somewhat. Her exceptional looks couldn't be hidden, but she left her jewels and gold and other riches at home. The one exception being a sizeable ruby and diamond ring on her left middle finger, that almost seemed like a security blanket from the way she fidgeted with it.

The lone figure, dressed in a bright blue hooded cloak, wild and wavy long dark hair escaping from the hood and dancing in the sea breeze, she walked down the road away from the village rather lost in thought. She'd occasionally look up and around, admiring the environs, take a deep breath of the sea air. But otherwise seemed relaxed as she walked gracefully along, in no rush.
Clifton
A highway robbery wasn't an unfamiliar act for Aspeth, she had performed what must have been nearing a hundred in her lifetime. Robbing from the poor and wealthy, they were all the same on the road, the only difference was if they'd have much influence on the wanted poster. However, time and practice had altered her strategies quite a bit, and she had learnt what was best to gain the best possible advantage. Many people on these roads seemed to fit into two categories. The kindly folk willing to chat and assist, and those that would rather keep to themselves and ride by. It was easy to take advantage of the kindly when their backs were turned. So, she had created the perfect scenario for a helpless maiden requiring the help of a strong traveler.
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A carriage with a broken wheel was a common problem, and with Aspeth kneeling down by the damaged area, trying to lift it up to place on another wheel, it created the perfect image of helplessness. Of course, she had forgone her iconic coat, cutlass and flintlocks. The only weapon she had was a blade hidden around the belt of her pants. Of course, she was not defenseless, the two hired muscle hidden within the treeline would provide a perfect distraction to get the blade nice and close to whoever was unfortunate enough to stop to help. They had studied the path quite a bit before enacting their plan, making sure it wasn't a highly trafficked area. Too many people would cause trouble, and they'd easily be overwhelmed. They were hunting for anyone showing a decent bit of wealth on them, plenty of nobles were stupid enough to wear fancy clothing whilst out in such dangerous areas.

With a groan escaping her, Aspeth continued to play the damsel in distress as she stood, the new wheel flopping to the ground as the carriage was dropped. Her hands were covered with dirt, and she wiped some sweat off her brow. She looked the perfect part of the average traveler, if not a bit better looking than most. It was then that she noticed the wanderer on the path. A cloak was a gamble, and an individual could easily be hiding armour beneath, or something of real value. Taking the risk, Aspeth moved to wave down the individual to see if they'd be able to 'help'
Margaret
Seeing the woman down the road waving snapped Amunet's attention back to the present. She slowed her pace a little, to allow for ample time to analyze the woman and the situation. Pretty, decent though a little worn clothing, messy hair, and dirty hands; she felt rather confident this woman was a commoner, though likely not poor or a peasant. The latter didn't tend to have carriages. 

Amunet was all too aware of how out of place she looked here, that it was clear she was a traveler. And though her cloak was one of her plainer pieces, it still was well-cared for and had finely detailed arabesque embroidery; it was clear she wasn't poor, if one looked hard enough. While she had been on the road off and on for the last decade or so, it occasionally happened that some idiot tried to rob her. They tended to walk away with their lives, unless they were persistent or particularly bent on her ruby ring. It was the only thing on her she'd kill to keep. And in the right circumstances, she'd turn a blind eye to thievery, give the thief a tip, or if she was feeling particularly generous and cheeky, she loved to reverse pickpocket them some gold. She was aware that sometimes desperate need drove people to steal; those people she was happy to help. But those that enjoyed the thrill or striking fear into others, those that harmed others, she was happy to teach a lesson to.

She waved back to the woman as she sized her up. She looked a bit strong but nothing threatening. Completely confident in her safety, she stopped and stood in front of the carriage with the woman. **"Well, this is a fine pickle, eh?"** She offered a small smile. **"We might be strong enough to lift it together. Strength isn't exactly my strong suit..."** With a finger to her chin, she thought aloud, **"Though that leaves no hands to put the wheel on."** With a shrug, she offered, **"You could walk with me to the next town, if you like."**

This test would tell her more, and likely what she needed to know. If the woman was truly bent on fixing this carriage, she might come up with a solution. If she was truly scared to go on without some kind of protection, she might go with Amunet. And if something was really *Off* Like Amunet suspected it might be, getting away from the area would likely help. Though she highly doubted this woman had enough conspirators nearby to really present a problem.

Amunet was somewhat a walking arsenal at most times, so she had little to fear. Daggers and throwing knives were too easy to hide all over her person, and she carried several items that looked ordinary but could become weapons with her magic. Let this one try something, if she dared. She put her right hand on the carriage as she turned slightly towards the other woman. One might notice, paying enough attention, a small scar on that hand on both sides, about the size of an average dagger wound. It was the only visible blemish on her otherwise remarkably perfect skin.
Clifton
As the woman approached, Aspeth eyes took in every detail that was available. She first sought out any weaponry, looking for how the individual would defend themselves. A good tactic was to disarm the victim before the fighting even had a chance to properly start. Many seemed to hold blades with a sheath attached to their belts. A good slash from a blade could easily send those to the ground.

What she sought out next was any riches easily seen on the person. Rings, bracelets, pendants and earrings were always a good sign of wealth, or just some old family trinket. Either way, jewelry usually went for a fine price out in these lands, but it was enchanted items that were the real treasure. Idiots would pay quite the pretty coin to acquire certain enchanted rings. The greatest prize she had gotten was a pendant that made one feel stronger. Of course, it was only a feeling, and the pendant didn't actually give any true strength to the wearer, but the one who had bought the pendant had been none the wiser to such a scam. She prayed for the day she would get such a perfect item again, she believed that she could go for an even higher price these days. People were too stupid to actually inspect what they were buying most of the time. It was a perfect time for thieves and scam artists. As her eyes moved over the cloak and it's details, she let out a hum before she turned back to the carriage with her arms crossed.

"Ah, if we can get maybe a log or crate underneath it, wouldn't even have to keep it held up." Her usual accent was gone, replaced with a much more common sounding one. Accents weren't her strong suit, and she had spent plenty of nights trying to perfect it. She was quite proud to be able to say that it was a fairly decent imitation of a peasant. Though she absolutely *Despised* How it made her sound quite like her mother. "Walking to town might be good... However, I can't say I fancy leaving everything here for bandits to take." A reasonable worry.
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The reveal of the scars upon the hands did cause her eyebrow to perk up slightly, but she decided not to question such a wound. Many people had scars, that was for certain. Perhaps it had been some form of punishment, or possibly it was a wound during combat. Shaking it from her mind, Aspeth took a moment to crouch down as she inspected the wheel, making a rather decent show of being frustrated from the events of the day.

Aspeth couldn't help but feel rather exposed without her usual weaponry. Whilst she was fairly decent with a dagger, she preferred to have the range of her musket or pistol at hand whenever she needed it. After all, a good shot to the chest and you could put just about anything into the ground without needing to worry about them lashing out at you as they fall. She really needed to meet the individual who had designed such a beautiful weapon one day. Sure, she was going to steal everything they owned, but meeting such a person would still be quite the honor.
Margaret
Amunet couldn't shake the feeling of something odd. Being as good a reader of people as she was, she couldn't miss the irritation on the other woman's face. This situation was obviously annoying, but it didn't seem to be about that. It was a particular-seeming irk with every word she said. The champion took note and simply nodded at the woman's words. **"I guess it depends on how much value whatever is inside holds for you."** She leveled a knowing look at the other woman, fishing a folding fan out of her pocket and unfolding it with a snap.

The fan was of good quality but otherwise didn't look particularly special. It looked to be made of finely woven linen and painted with a beautiful series of ocean waves all the way across. Amunet considered it for a moment before starting to fan herself lightly, **"Like this fan... It was a gift from someone I had much affection for, but..."** She smirked, **"That was a long time ago. I could possibly part with it; it might even help to forget."** She snapped it shut, peering inside the carriage briefly before opening it again and holding it back, her arm straight and slightly behind her. Her voice was calm, even, self-assured. **"But I find the reminder is more helpful than hurtful, to be careful with myself."**

With that she swung the fan forcefully forward in arc, parallel with the ground. It created a gust of wind that pushed the broken carriage forcefully into the treeline, creating a loud crack that ought to frighten anyone in the vicinity. She wanted to gauge the woman's reaction. She didn't see anything inside that looked terribly breakable or irreplaceable. If she was wrong, she'd find or pay for replacements.

She put on a winning smile that always either melted people like butter or intimidated them into stammering and muttering, saying with playful confidence, **"I don't think you'll have to worry about bandits, if you want to leave with me."** She gestured with the fan towards the only-slightly-more-broken carriage, **"Take anything you can't leave without that we can carry. And if aught else is gone upon your return, I'll replace it myself."** She swapped the fan to her left hand, right hand fingers stroking and fiddling with the ruby ring to activate it. She'd find the truth, or lack of, in this woman's words, then use the last draw of power for a little intimidation boost. She'd love to solve this without a fight. After all, she just got this cloak; it'd be a shame to stain it with the first wear.
Clifton
"Well, it's practically my life in there." It wasn't uncommon for travelers to simply take everything they owned with them. It was a safer bet than leaving them in some old home that could be robbed whilst away. As the woman brought out her fan, Aspeth looked at it with a bit of curiosity. It wasn't that hot in the the Isles, and there was a fairly fine breeze going through the trees. Maybe it was meant to be a weird show of wealth, most wealthy gits did enjoy showing off how much coin they had to those less fortunate.

Oh Erasil save her, it now seemed the woman was going to be prattling on about her past. No, this was fine. Aspeth could easily keep a straight face through such a thing. Even if it was dreadfully dull. It was an odd thing about the wealthy, they seemed to draw on the past quite often, making references to their past experiences. Maybe it was a thing about coin that made one think about their youth more often. Maybe they were all just crazy. "I'm sorry... I don't believe I am following?" It was awfully confusing. She had no clue how this little dinky fan was relating to the broken carriage at all.

But then, a terrible gust of wind blew through the area. Aspeth instinctively went to protect her face and keep her hat on. But the crack of the carriage is what threw her to the ground. Quickly checking over herself for any wounds, she bolted up to try and figure out what the *Hell* Had just happened. Upon seeing her carriage thrown into the treeline, a look of scorn appeared on her face as she was quick to stand. Whilst the carriage was being used for nefarious actions, it wasn't like she had made the damn thing. Carriages were rather expensive in the Isles, considering that most people preferred to take it by sea.

"What the hells!" Anger in her voice, rage in her eyes. Her eyes scoured over the carriage, and even if it wasn't much more broken, she couldn't help but feel the fury build up. She had always hated it when people touched her things. "Ya rotten fucking bitch!" Normally, Aspeth would have rushed the individual with her blade, stick it in their throat and kick their damned head in. But after such a powerful gust of wind, she had to play her cards right. There was no doubt the hired muscle would have ran off like the sorry bastards they were. She was going to be stuck alone in this. "Do ya know how much I had in there?!"

But, there was always a different way to rob.

Scam.
Margaret
The woman was certainly being truthful about her rage and the importance of the contents of the carriage. But it turned out Amunet didn't need the power of Elira's ring to discern the truth here; she funneled the remaining power it gave into her features, helping her radiate an aura of danger and dynamism. A smile sharp as a blade broke out on the Desert Rose's face, and she spoke with scorn as she tucked the fan away in her cloak, pulling two daggers out from the back of her belt, **"Of course you didn't follow. I was trying to warn you, but you seem to be too stupid for that. You really don't understand just** ***Who*** **You decided to target, do you?"** The sash wrapped around her midsection began to unwind itself, hanging loosely, both ends seemed to stand at attention as they floated at her sides. 

**"Now, you can show some wisdom in this, if you so choose."** She leveled one dagger at the woman, standing her ground but still giving the feeling that she could close the gap in milliseconds. Holding one of the daggers in her teeth for a moment, she fished again in the cloak and pulled out a coin purse, fat with gold, then tossed it to the woman, holding the dagger once more. **"That should be about the cost of your carriage, plus your paltry belongings, plus a little incentive to not piss me off any further."** She narrowed her eyes, **"I would've given it to you outright, had you just asked; I have enough to spare. However, it now comes with strings attached."** She burnt out the last of the ring's power to fill her voice with malice and threat, **"If you don't leave this spot, if you try to take from someone far less fortunate than even your sorry ass, I'll be forced to** ***Make*** **You leave. I won't have you endangering or further impoverishing innocents."**

While this was bothersome, Amunet found she was glad it happened. She always enjoyed clearing trash from the roads; it was another reason she preferred to walk through her travels. But more than that she found the distraction welcome. If she walked too long with nothing to do but be with her thoughts, they would wander to places that were less than kind to her, far less than pleasant for her. 

She laughed, a nearly musical sound, before composing herself with a smirk, **"Oh, and if you think you can get** ***Any*** **Authorities** ***Anywhere*** **To believe your word over the word of the Champion of Elira, then you're even more stupid than I thought."**
Clifton
"Perhaps ya can't see I don't really care about *Who I just decided to target*" She spoke in a mocking voice as she tilted her head side to side. Uncaring of what repercussions mocking such an individual would have, it wasn't until the dagger was pointed at her that she had a moment of clarity to think straight. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the blade, turning her body slightly to hide her hand behind her own body, ready to reach for her own blade if she needed. But then, a purse full of coins was tossed to her. She was quick to catch it, and also open it to view the contents inside. It was a decent amount, but that ring upon the Champion's finger was calling to her. Erasil be blessed, it would be an absolute gift to retrieve such a fine ring.

And sell it, of course.

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The strings attached were obviously going to be ignored. After all, she had only mentioned from this spot. There was another fine area down the road that was perfect for jumping from the trees and simply murdering the occupants of the carriages. The second string was easy to avoid, how was *She* Meant to know if someone was less fortunate than her? She might have been the most gorgeous lass upon the seas, but plenty of people had their own victories in life. She would simply have to decide after they had given her all they owned. Maybe she could spare them a coin or two after the fact. Either way, she was *Not* Going to be told what to do by some run-through harlot on the road. She'd most definitely be back, but she wasn't going to leave her gear behind next time. If putting on an act was not going to work due to such an encounter, she'd simply take over the road, and abandon it whenever the local guard came knocking. There would no doubt be plenty of coin upon her ship at that point.

"Fine fine, I'll leave. Happy?" Of course, she wasn't going to outright tell her plans to the individual. Let her believe she was turning over a new leaf. She'd send some men down the trail a few times to make sure that the woman had actually left before she returned. She was sure she could put together a decent enough crew. After all, anyone would do anything for the right amount of coin.
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She stashed the coin purse in one of her pockets, beginning to back away. But once she got to the treeline, and the identity of the woman was revealed. A cruel grin came to her face. Oh, she could not resist getting in the last words. Her body was covered as she passed behind a tree, vanishing from sight for a moment before she moved to stand on it's opposite side, looking back at the woman. "Oh! You're a champion of that hag. Now it all makes sense. Though bits of stone in the desert were always such an eyesore. Would have been smarter to tear them down. But, it's really no wonder it took you so long to get out here, if I had a face like that I think I'd sooner carve out my own eyes." The grin was stuck on her face. She left herself completely open, as if uncaring of any attack. Confidence was in her grin.

Piss of the individual enough, and they'd make mistakes.
Margaret
The baroness watched with narrowed eyes as the woman backed slowly to the treeline. It seemed too easy, considering how much of a pain the interaction had been so far. This woman seemed intent on upsetting her; it wasn't a bad tactic, she'd done much the same at times. But having it thrown back at her was *Annoying*. Amunet just wanted to be done with this nuisance that seemed to respect nothing.

But she didn't realize how deep that disrespect could go. She was confident enough in herself that those words didn't matter; they were blatantly false. But to have Elira, her home, their glorious pyramids disparaged so, really did piss her off. She had a bad temper, she always had. Too many years of shoving down her feelings meant that, eventually, they all came out at once. She'd already been feeling out of sorts, tired, and she didn't have the clarity left to realize she was being riled. 

With a grim and determined look, brows furrowed, she growled through gritted teeth, **"That's it!"** Momentarily stowing away the daggers, the sash at her waist unfurled on its own, one end wrapping around her wrist while the other shot to the treeline. It stretched impossibly far, further than it was long, wrapping around the woman's ankle and all the way up that leg. With a yank and swirling flourish of the sash, she'd thrown the woman into the carriage's side. Simultaneously as the sash retreated, wrapping around her waist again, she pulled many multiple throwing daggers from her hair, sleeves, boots, throwing them in a quick flurry of strikes. Most pinned the woman to the carriage by her clothes, deep resounding thuds sounding around her as blades pierced the wooden walls. Most would have knicked her, at worst. But the last two hit their targets perfectly. One pinned her hand to the wall, sinking in between the bones much like Amunet's own scar, while the other pinned her wrist in place.

Amunet raced up to the carriage with speed, brandishing the daggers once more, holding one to her throat and ond one to her side. She pressed the one at her throat in enough that a tiny line of red bloomed around the edges. She stared into the woman's eyes a moment, her own full of unleashed fury and sadness. She'd easily be in the right to kill her; it was likely she was a murderer as well as a thief. But as her tide of emotions ebbed and flowed, she regained enough clarity to realize what she was doing. This woman was a scoundrel, without a doubt, but still didn't deserve to die like some dog. This wasn't who Amunet was, wasn't who she *Wanted* To be. Hadn't this, in a way, been how she'd lost him? Actions taken in a fit of anger?

Gritting her teeth, more angry with herself now than with this lousy bitch, she lowered the daggers, turning the one at her throat to push the blunt side under her chin. 

**"You're a blemish on this world. But I will show mercy,** ***Once*** **. Perhaps you can do some of my work for me. Let's see how you feel about my ***Hag's*** **Specialty."** She smirked, pulling the familiar magical strings to charm the woman. **"You're going to be a good girl, for once in your life, and wait right here until the guards come to get you."** Her words would strongly compel the woman to do as asked, and unless she was quite exceptional, it should last long enough for Amunet to summon someone here. 

Backing away several steps towards the road, she wore a wide, honeyed grin, her soft voice full of satisfaction. **"There, that should do. I'd say it was a pleasure meeting you, but... It wasn't."** She turned, summoning wind and sand around her in a blinding swirl, and dashed down the road with inhuman speed.
Clifton
The grin upon the face of the pirate was confident and smug, way too confident for an individual who had just insulted the God of a Champion. It was the grin of someone who had a plan and was certain that it would work without a single fault occurring. It was how she had always worked, piss off a person enough to make some pretty major mistakes. It was a grand way to learn or steal everything she needed, and boy was she learning some useful things today.

Aspeth was quick to look down as the sash was suddenly around her leg. She couldn't deny that momentary look of surprise upon her face, before she was suddenly flung towards the carriage. A surprisingly soft thud shot out when she made contact with it, and as she was pushing herself forward, she felt the first knife connect with the carriage, pinning her shirt to the wooden material. The other blades were swift to follow, each landing with a thud and cutting through a small part of her clothes.

As the first blade struck her hand, there was a moment of shock in her eyes, soon followed by a yelp from the second knife landing in her wrist. If one was paying attention, they might have noticed it took the blood a few odd seconds to start flowing. Aspeth's attention was quickly taken as a blade was placed against her throat and side. Even in this moment of near death, she still had that bastard grin upon her face. Confident even in death? Perhaps even goading the woman to drag that blade right across her throat. Though, it was soon that Amunet began to use her charm. A bit of confusion upon Aspeth's face before the charm took effect. Slowly, a gentle smile appeared on her face as she slumped against the carriage. "Yes... I'll wait." Simple words of agreement. Seemed like that charm would keep her in place rather happily. Yet, as Amunet suddenly sprinted off, silence reigned in the area for a moment for the crunch of leaves beneath feet were heard.
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"Oh, but it *Certainly* Was a pleasure to meet you."

From behind the tree she had passed previously, out stepped Aspeth. She tossed the gold pouch in her hand up and down, a cocky grin on her face as she made her way over to her mirror image. She hummed as she took a moment to look over her doppelganger, grabbing onto one of the many throwing knives and yanked it out of the wood. She took a moment to inspect the item, humming at the best ways to avoid such a trick in the future. Well, wearing some nice chainmail underneath would probably be a good option. But that sash was going to have to go. She could imagine a bit of fire would work best against a piece of fabric.

Twirling the blade in her fingers, she looked towards where the girl sprinted off. That little charm power was not going to be fun to deal with, but she would figure something out.

There had been such a *Rush* During that encounter. Adrenaline pumping through her veins as ideas swarmed her mind, begging her to further insult such a Champion. To curse out one of those lesser Gods in front of their own chosen and survive. Her own Goddess did work in odd ways, but she had been blessed with illusions all her life. Those illusions had saved her so many times. Aspeth took a moment to glance back towards the illusion's hand that had the blades within it.

Her grin widened as she began to remove the blades, taking each one and stashing it. She always was a scavenger when it came to weaponry. From her pistols, to her musket and now to a few throwing knives. She'd happily leave the mimic there for the moment, it would vanish before the guards would ever even arrive. 

With a small bounce in her step, she began to make her way back into the woods. She'd most certainly be back, however.