<div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/ad0f07f9bf81e67f6b4a1773a6d9c6fa/tumblr_oqsxdvHPWw1tk4029o1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Velta of the Shundar-Quah (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1215351)</strong><br/><strong>Hp:</strong>10,<strong>AC:</strong>11 (touch 11, flat 10, CMD 14)<br/><strong>Location: Main Beach</strong><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Stayin' Alive, taking prisoners<br/><hr/><br/>Velta's<em>everything</em>hurt. The chains she had been bound with had ruubbed away skin on her wrists. her right eye was swollen from a blow one of the raiders had dealt her. Her palms were blistered as if from a fire -<em>had there been a fire?</em>And then, of course, frigid salt water on top of it all. As if that weren't enough, she had been struck by ship's flotsam, discovered a mussel reef at the bottom of the breakers, and was right now, laying on a bed of barnacle-covered stones while tiny crabs picked at her wounds.<br/><br/>She'd had worse.<br/><br/>With some effort, she heaved herself up on hands and knees and sucked in a great lungful of air, which was released in a sputter of water, grit, and an unladylike belch. Then she breathed more, working to cough out whatever was in there, before taking stock of her situation. Mostly naked; her plain clothes had been torn by the bandits looking for treasure or a more mundane thrill, and what was left had not fared well against the mussels. She hurt, but was alive, so that was a plus... on a stony beach, strewn with bodies and debris. The lack of gulls disturbed her a little. She had a lot of questions, but from the way her nearest neighbor rolled in the surf, it didn't seem like she was going to get any answers.<br/><br/>Another heave of her complaining muscles brought her unsteadily to her feet, and into the full brunt of the wind. She shivered, but put the cold to the back of her mind; exposure was an old friend, after all.  Rather, she gabbed the rolling body by the hair, dragging it from the breakers, over shell and single. When it sputtered and groaned, she bore it no mind as she began going through its pouches and equipment, finally finding what she wanted, what she<em>needed</em>. She used the feebly-struggling survivor as a seat while she greedily sucked down the contents of his waterskin.<br/><br/>She saw others picking themselves up, getting their bearings... and then the murder began. Reaching down, she grabbed a handfull of hair, jerking the pirate's head upright so he could see what was happening to his mates.<strong>"It's your lucky day,  dog,"</strong>she croaked down at him in Skald. Another swig of the water cleared that.<strong>"You're going to tell me everything. Who you and your friends are. Where you were taking us."</strong>More water .<strong>"And where we are now. After that, well, you're an Ulfen, you're bound to be valuable to <em>someone</em> even if only a bounty. And if not, I'll just give you to Gozreh in thanks for my own life being spared by the sea."</strong><br/><br/>She finished the water, chucking the empty skin out to the waves.<strong>"Also, I'm going to be taking your armor and weapons. You understand. You're from the north, the cold doesn't bother you I'm sure."</strong>So saying, she mashed the man's face down into the shells and gravel hard, and began unlacing his mail. How he got to shore in it, she couldn't imagine. When he begin to complain, he got a good clobber upside the head to quiet him down. Once she was done stripping his armor, other bits of gear, and a dagger, she began dragging him by the hair towards that fire, completely heedless of what the barnacles and stone must be doing to his naked belly-side. She could handle the cold, but that didn't mean she<em>had to</em>