"It's all there, Caspian," Taryn assured, her stormy blue gaze following the Earl as he inspected the Duke's latest order.  "Haven't we done this enough times for you to trust me by now?" The land they lived upon was deteriorating, a somber mirror of what it used to be before the years of abuse and neglect, but Duke Northwood always looked the part of a prosperous man despite being the cancer that he was.  This time, new sheaths for all his men, a new vest for himself and an assortment of bags took precdence over feeding his people.  The previous winter, five had been lost, hunger, coupled with frigid tempatures hadn't been kind to the most vulnerable.  A mother who cannot eat, cannot feed her baby and tired bones can't keep themselves warm, but those fortunate enough to hold titles?  Full bellies and warm beds sustained them.<br/><br/>"One would think so wouldn't they?" He replied without glancing up as his hands, fondled the vest and various sheaths.  He continued his leisurely journey, the walk around her table leading him back to Taryn, where he stood squarely in front of her as she leaned onto the table's ledge.  "One might also think you have forgotten your place," he added,  "Perhaps I should remind you."<br/><br/>Striking enough to have been saved for the mere desires of men alone, Taryn had been luckily skilled beyond her feminine physique to be particularly useful as well, and the difference was arguably what protected her from a disgraceful decline in what was now an ugly sulk in the Earth.  Of course it hadn't been enough to save her soul exactly, the people here were all broken and bruised, but it had been enough to save her life.  They needed her, and that kept their blades and their pricks a favorable distance away most of the time, which in turn kept her from sealing her own fate with her own.  It was a win win for silver linings, but even still, that wasn't saying much.<br/><br/>This was no longer the place of her childhood, its lands were a desecrated waste of something that had once prospered wildly.  Evidence of what a few ripe egos can do to even the most fruitful of places.  The Duke and his men had all but snuffed the life from this place, or at the very least it's resiliency, but somehow Taryn had managed to survive with some form of self dignity in tact.  That wasn't to say that it hadn't come at its costs, but in the state of desperation most were in, she had to consider herself lucky.  Traitor, some had whispered, but those who knew her well knew better.  She had done what she needed to in order to survive; for no favor to anyone but herself nor ill will.<br/><br/>"Perhaps you should," she quipped, a coy smirk tucking itself into her cheek as she arched a taunting brow.<br/><br/>His hand snapped, gripping about her slender neck in a manner that wasn't merciful, but careful enough to not squeeze her windpipe too tightly.  Her hands were quick to clasp his forearm, and her feet shuffled to stand upright.  He wanted control of her attention, that was all, and Taryn would let him have it.  She should have guessed tonight had not been the night to be coy, the Earl was there for different reasons, otherwise her work could have been collected in the morning.<br/><br/>"You've always been a feisty one, but don't think you can't be replaced.  You're good at your craft, but there's quite a few men here who think you'd serve better on your back.  Leathersmiths aren't so rare, Taryn." The Earl wedged his knee between her legs, "but pretty girls like you?  That could do a lot for a man's morale." His free hand slinked along her thigh, gathering the fabric of her dress in spider like fingers that inched it's hem so his palm could lay flat along her skin.<br/><br/>She stared up at him, preparing herself for what was surely to come, but no protest left her lips.  They would do her no good with the intent in his eyes, but Caspian was forced to change his focus when the door at his back flew open.  The men who filed in, Taryn did not recognize, but they wielded swords, and expressions proof they weren't here under friendly circumstances.  Three of them in total, the Earl was out numbered, but he kept his relentless fingers teathered around Taryn's neck, as his head turned to acknowledge the interruption.<br/><br/>"Who the hell are you?!"<br/><br/>They said nothing but moved closer to the Earl, and while his attention was stolen, Taryn let one hand fall to blindly search the table behind her.  One good thing about her work; there were always sharp objects laying around.  Her fingers brushed the distinctive feel of the round wooden handle of her awl, and with one pointed and precise motion, she lodged it into the base of Caspian's skull. Hiss grip, loosened, and Taryn coughed, replacing his hand with her own as his body slumped to the floor, and she pulled the tool from his neck.  She wouldn't forfeit the opportunity, the intruders very well could have ended her too and there would have been little she could do about it, but Taryn wouldn't go down without a fight and hoped her blood stained hands had been enough to show alliance and spare her life.<br/><br/>The broadest of the trio cocked his head at her curiously, but none took any further steps towards her.  Instead he simply nodded his head and the tree of them exited through the same door they had just busted through, leaving Taryn to count her blessings for but a moment before the sounds of agony coming from beyond her walls called her to follow.  Standing in the doorway of her small shop, the blaze from the slave keep warmed her face as the fire whipped its fingers into the night sky.  Chaos was all she could see, but this time the reigns seemed to be controlled by those used to being driven by them.  They had been shown no mercy and now the people were returning the favor.