<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/b5O9W3q.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Gayle Leonhart<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Execution - Skyrim Home World<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Restrained & Caged<br/><strong>Equipment:</strong>Gunblade (Unequipped) / Griever Necklace (Stolen)<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>Attempting to maintain solidarity<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The wind whistled violently in the dead of night, light's shining down upon cold wet cobblestone giving it's grey a darker shade. Rain pelting down swayed by the infrequent gusts, who knew it would end like this? A loud squeaking sound gave mention to a light tilting, it's brightness fixating upon a young lady whom stood nearly twenty yards away from an assembled force of soldiers all dressed in blue. Gayle Leonhart, an eighteen year old mercenary stood with knees trembling yet with an unwavering resolve. Ice blue eyes stared plainly through soaked locks, lengthy brown hair darkened and weighed by the weather's disdain. A few grouped strands curled inwards over her chest, snaking down between her ample mounds and giving frame to the shining silver pendant dangling centre-cleavage. The water bouncing off and falling from Gayle's black leather jacket and tight matching pants, white fur dulled while water sank into her dark boots. Turning her head to the left, beside her a body, a friend, a companion. Blood seeping from wounds, fatal it seemed as the rain hastily stole a life's essence. Panning right, another comrade and friend. Wounds similar yet fatal in much a different way, Gayle's fair skin gave an equally fair expression of distraught and loss while struggling to maintain her usual hidden self only turning back once finding success.<br/><br/>Gayle's eyes obscured by light and rain harboured the sights of her enemy and slowly rising into her perspective, the length of her Gunblade. As her eyes steeled their mettle a tight grip took to it's hilt and with a gentle click drowned out by wind and rain, she was prepared for her final stand. Stilling her weakened state, knees retained her weight while high heels stuck firmly in place, Gayle engaged the Dynasty! Drawing her sword back behind her right side, body fronted, sword parallel to the ground. A flurry of<em>tinging</em>sounds rolling from the blade-edge, a fiery aura surrounding Gayle gripping the attention of all those before her. With a subtle pulling back of her weight, Gayle threw herself forwards in a dash with an immediate response from those whom would end her. It began with a single soldier, their blades meeting before Gayle's furious speed and strength parried it away in throwing him off balance. After which a blinking slice carving through his armoured chest as blood spilled to her right following the cut, continuing with another soldier, and another, and more! It hadn't been long before body count began to pile up, carving without restraint until a loud clang held her blade still. The shock itself had taken her balance away, though only within a brief moment before regaining a guarding posture to see whom had engaged her. In gauging the present circumstances, a strange sword had caught her attack in preventing the last of the soldiers from losing his life to Gayle's onslaught. Her gaze took caution to this new comer and had never seen anyone like it before.<br/><br/>"Who...-"<br/><br/>Her own short gasp cutting her off, wide eyed and panicking she barely managed to block an incoming strike. The strength and weight behind it left Gayle struggling to maintain her footing, yet after a brief second in time managed to throw of the incoming attack with a parry. The efforts however didn't at all appear to vex her opponent, with a stalwart presence the Dynasty's puppet struck again much the same way she had done herself to these soldiers. Gayle's arms ceased due to the on set fatigue of battle, unable to raise her blade her eyes met their's in a frantic state and as the blade fell she'd stepped away. Unfortunately it had not been enough, the edge slicing across her face as blood cascaded down her fair flesh and in turn threw her entirety back off balance. While attempting to regain her footing, another attack, a death blow. Gayle managed to pull her sword up this time, blocking it and once again struggling against it. But this time it's power stole her footing, throwing her high into the air. Lips parting and eyes tightening shut, a scream over-rang the sounds of the rain and wind. Clearing ten feet with out a doubt, Gayle opened her eyes just in time to catch the apex of her flight before plummeting back down. Her limp body falling upon the stone, her sword bouncing along before spinning to a halt leaving Gayle unconscious upon the ground. She'd been laid out on her back, a hand resting over her bare stomach as another sat out in a bent position. Her back flat with her hips twisted to the side, one leg over the other while her hair clung to her flesh. Footsteps approached her body, a hand reaching out and clasping the Lion around her neck and yanking it free chain and all.<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>Another cold night dawning into a chill morn, three days and three nights trapped within a small cage as the sun of the fourth began to rise over the crisply dew covered plains. A yielding warmth of the sun's rays casting a caged shadow over each captor, stirring a gentle groan and the soft lilting sound of metallic shackle-links grinding gently. Gayle's eyes stirred open as one nightmare transitioned into another, the glow in the distance causing her parting lids to struggle. Laid centre cell curled up with knees tucking into the chest, arms sitting limply behind her back leaving her wrists firmly confined within blackened chains squeezing her arms together to form a "V" shape down from her shoulders to wrists. She considered it a wise idea to remain centre in her cage, distancing herself as much as possible from the bars and lecherous hands leaving only small inoffensive projectiles of food scraps along side cat calls to deal with. Of course the few encounters she did have answers the question as to why her hands were shackled behind her back rather than her front, giving one or two bloody noses wasn't without reprisal.<br/><br/>Stirring slowly from her slumber Gayle remained silent and still, making sure not to draw any attention to herself in such a disoriented waking state. The vibrant dawn seemed like a glimmer of hope, before any and all signs of sleep dripped away into a cold foreboding realisation that today was the day she died. What followed with this heart-sunk feeling had been all the pains caused by her resisting, bruised wrists, scuffed dirty clothes that matched her cheeks while the treatment over the last few days of confinement displayed their own doings. Her lengthy brunette hair ruffled, dirty, damaged and split, otherwise cherry lips remained dry and cracking, though with all that had happened her gaze remained true in defying her up and coming fate. With great composure and silence, sitting up Gayle had risen from her fetal position before taking to her feet. Closed eyes obscured by frayed hair, stretching out her body while taking in a cool lengthy breath through gently parted lips, resisting the instinctive need to moan as a variety of muscles and joints brought deep embedding pain. Light yet audible cricks and cracks sounded while doing so, before a soft sight revealed her ice blue hues.<br/><br/>Over the past few days Gayle had predominantly stuck to herself, swapping glances and rudely dismissing greetings and nods from fellow prisoners. She'd no idea who those around her had been, the two closest on her left and right adjacent cells were no one she'd even seen before. She was however still only a youth, an eighteen year old girl fresh into a warring world and whether by fate or misfortune had literally been staring upon her potential grave, if she'd ever get that far. These burly unkempt men were indeed a concern, attempting to push themselves upon a prisoner of war was enough to give consideration to her body after the sentence was carried out. That disgusting reality had been what kept Gayle readily rebellious, while maintaining steeled silent eyes of resistance and on alert for any chance of escape. In the mean time, Gayle had no intention of breaking her silence... unless one of them came into spitting range.