Wool. How she hated wool. Who's idea it was to make a veritable sea of needle points one of the worlds most staple of fabrics was anybody's guess. Coatleque shifted herself, scratching at her bare leg once more as she tried to let sleep take her. She was curled up on a plain rug, wearing nothing but a dirty tunic given to her out of a misunderstanding. On a long sitting couch nearby were the loud snores of a mercenary, Vandol Morn. Where his partner in crime had gone she did not care. Coatleque had no desire to run by this point. Making as best a pillow of her arms while her hands were bound, she began to recount the events of that evening.
It was little over a day ago she had left Jameson's office with an accusatory glare and feeling of immense inadequacy. He was clearly displeased with her apparent loyalty, and while she knew she should care little about it due to her position with the Sultansworn, her personal feelings were beginning to chip away at such resolve. More and more she was feeling pain at seeing him distressed.
There was more to it than that, though, as always. She had a city to defend from a menace she could not find. Her leads were all dead ends, or false. She was not moving backwards, she wasn't moving at all. There was only one person she knew who could without question lead her to Lazarov. If she could only bring her in, perhaps... perhaps Coatleque could kill two birds with one stone, as it were. She could fulfil her duty while also proving her worth.
She was present when Jameson sent for the mercenaries. She heard the name used. Holbrook. It did not register at the time, but she had crossed paths with this particular pair multiple times already. At the warehouse in Moraby. Outside Ul'dah when they collected the bounty on Jaxon Hawk. In the Goblet at the end of the poker game. And finally on the Ruby Exchange by chance as she was merely passing by that afternoon. Her need to know overcame her sense of caution.
They were up to something; That much was not hard to see. So she followed from a distance. Through the exchange, along the outer wall, and out the Gate of the Sultana. She trailed them from a distance, staying a ways off the road itself using boulders and trees for cover. Being hardly dressed for such work, her dress caught quite a few brambles from the underbrush. This one would be ruined for sure. She sighed as she pulled some thorns free from the bottom hem then watched as the pair entered the Silver Bazaar.
Slinking around the gate a moment later she crouched behind another boulder and listened as the two argued with a large Roegadyn. While not particularly enlightening conversation, it did confirm what Coatleque suspected. They were looking for Roen. Not getting anywhere with the Roe, the pair split up. Seeing this as her chance, Coatleque slowly rounded the boulder to confront the woman named Holbrook. She seemed to be the more reasonable of the two at least.
Stubborn was more like it. Her associate, Morn, returned while Coatleque was still trying to explain her motives. She was, surprisingly, not there to stop them. She wanted no part of their contract. In fact, she was offering them additional pay on top of what Jameson had promised. Her only stipulation was that Roen not be harmed. They scoffed at her, were so guarded as to not trust her motives - and perhaps she could not blame them. However, she grew desperate and threatened to out them to the target if they would not cooperate. The threat of losing five hundred thousand gil is more of a motivator than one would think.
It was a stupid move on her part, especially when unarmed and unarmored. The next thing she knew she was slumped against the boulder and rubbing her jaw as Morn checked her for weapons and bound her hands. They took her linkpearls, her gil purse, then dragged her along to the local inn. To them she did nothing but comply. Inside, she was laughing the whole way at what was sure to be their greatest misfortune.
"Yes, make this even worse on yourselves."
Once out of sight in the inn room they forced her to undress to be sure she was not hiding anything else, then gave her an olive green tunic to wear which barely ended below the waist. Securing her to the bed with manacles then, they continued their own line of questions and threats. She answered all truthfully and finished each line with the insistence that they take her to see Jameson. She had nothing to hide, laying there. They had already won, why bother?
Whether out of dedication to their contract or sheer paranoia they persisted.
"Keep me here or release me. I'll not fight you." She insisted with eerie calmness. "Regardless, if you leave me in any worse consideration I promise Jameson will feed you your own manhood."
"Why? Milord bangin' you?" The larger of the two replied which only drew a narrow-eyed glare.
More hushed arguing outside, followed by the same line of questioning once more. Coatleque sighed as she recounted the same answers for the third time. If boredom was their interrogation method, it would be working except that she had hid nothing from them. Once more she insisted they take her back to Taeros to cross examine her intentions. Finally they relented.
Morn, the larger one, dragged her out of the inn to a cart that Holbrook had acquired. Inside was a large, thick rug. Tash proceeded to stuff a handkerchief into Coatleque's mouth before they rolled her into the rug up inside the cart. She did not struggle or try to run, thankful that they were finally taking action rather than talking in circles.
The cart ride itself was uneventful except for the occasional pat on her rump whenever she made too much noise. Not that Morn could tell where she was, stuffed in a rug as it were. She was subjected to even more crass conversation and undignified behavior before the cart finally stopped at Jameson's estate. Or at least she hoped that is where they took her.
There was more rough treatment as she was systematically hoisted out of the cart and the rug thrown over Morn's shoulder. At this time of night, the servants had all gone and Jameson was either busy or elsewhere. With nowhere else to go the rug was dropped crudely in the middle of the lobby before Morn gave it a push with is foot, letting her roll out. Coatleque slowly sat up while shaking off the dizziness before managing to spit out the gag with some effort and coughing before composing herself as best she could.
The whole ordeal was now some four hours past. Another particularly loud snore from the couch earned another disgusted glare from her before she rolled onto her other side. Scratching her legs raw once again, she tried to catch what sleep she could until Mister North would arrive in the morning.
It was little over a day ago she had left Jameson's office with an accusatory glare and feeling of immense inadequacy. He was clearly displeased with her apparent loyalty, and while she knew she should care little about it due to her position with the Sultansworn, her personal feelings were beginning to chip away at such resolve. More and more she was feeling pain at seeing him distressed.
There was more to it than that, though, as always. She had a city to defend from a menace she could not find. Her leads were all dead ends, or false. She was not moving backwards, she wasn't moving at all. There was only one person she knew who could without question lead her to Lazarov. If she could only bring her in, perhaps... perhaps Coatleque could kill two birds with one stone, as it were. She could fulfil her duty while also proving her worth.
She was present when Jameson sent for the mercenaries. She heard the name used. Holbrook. It did not register at the time, but she had crossed paths with this particular pair multiple times already. At the warehouse in Moraby. Outside Ul'dah when they collected the bounty on Jaxon Hawk. In the Goblet at the end of the poker game. And finally on the Ruby Exchange by chance as she was merely passing by that afternoon. Her need to know overcame her sense of caution.
They were up to something; That much was not hard to see. So she followed from a distance. Through the exchange, along the outer wall, and out the Gate of the Sultana. She trailed them from a distance, staying a ways off the road itself using boulders and trees for cover. Being hardly dressed for such work, her dress caught quite a few brambles from the underbrush. This one would be ruined for sure. She sighed as she pulled some thorns free from the bottom hem then watched as the pair entered the Silver Bazaar.
Slinking around the gate a moment later she crouched behind another boulder and listened as the two argued with a large Roegadyn. While not particularly enlightening conversation, it did confirm what Coatleque suspected. They were looking for Roen. Not getting anywhere with the Roe, the pair split up. Seeing this as her chance, Coatleque slowly rounded the boulder to confront the woman named Holbrook. She seemed to be the more reasonable of the two at least.
Stubborn was more like it. Her associate, Morn, returned while Coatleque was still trying to explain her motives. She was, surprisingly, not there to stop them. She wanted no part of their contract. In fact, she was offering them additional pay on top of what Jameson had promised. Her only stipulation was that Roen not be harmed. They scoffed at her, were so guarded as to not trust her motives - and perhaps she could not blame them. However, she grew desperate and threatened to out them to the target if they would not cooperate. The threat of losing five hundred thousand gil is more of a motivator than one would think.
It was a stupid move on her part, especially when unarmed and unarmored. The next thing she knew she was slumped against the boulder and rubbing her jaw as Morn checked her for weapons and bound her hands. They took her linkpearls, her gil purse, then dragged her along to the local inn. To them she did nothing but comply. Inside, she was laughing the whole way at what was sure to be their greatest misfortune.
"Yes, make this even worse on yourselves."
Once out of sight in the inn room they forced her to undress to be sure she was not hiding anything else, then gave her an olive green tunic to wear which barely ended below the waist. Securing her to the bed with manacles then, they continued their own line of questions and threats. She answered all truthfully and finished each line with the insistence that they take her to see Jameson. She had nothing to hide, laying there. They had already won, why bother?
Whether out of dedication to their contract or sheer paranoia they persisted.
"Keep me here or release me. I'll not fight you." She insisted with eerie calmness. "Regardless, if you leave me in any worse consideration I promise Jameson will feed you your own manhood."
"Why? Milord bangin' you?" The larger of the two replied which only drew a narrow-eyed glare.
More hushed arguing outside, followed by the same line of questioning once more. Coatleque sighed as she recounted the same answers for the third time. If boredom was their interrogation method, it would be working except that she had hid nothing from them. Once more she insisted they take her back to Taeros to cross examine her intentions. Finally they relented.
Morn, the larger one, dragged her out of the inn to a cart that Holbrook had acquired. Inside was a large, thick rug. Tash proceeded to stuff a handkerchief into Coatleque's mouth before they rolled her into the rug up inside the cart. She did not struggle or try to run, thankful that they were finally taking action rather than talking in circles.
The cart ride itself was uneventful except for the occasional pat on her rump whenever she made too much noise. Not that Morn could tell where she was, stuffed in a rug as it were. She was subjected to even more crass conversation and undignified behavior before the cart finally stopped at Jameson's estate. Or at least she hoped that is where they took her.
There was more rough treatment as she was systematically hoisted out of the cart and the rug thrown over Morn's shoulder. At this time of night, the servants had all gone and Jameson was either busy or elsewhere. With nowhere else to go the rug was dropped crudely in the middle of the lobby before Morn gave it a push with is foot, letting her roll out. Coatleque slowly sat up while shaking off the dizziness before managing to spit out the gag with some effort and coughing before composing herself as best she could.
The whole ordeal was now some four hours past. Another particularly loud snore from the couch earned another disgusted glare from her before she rolled onto her other side. Scratching her legs raw once again, she tried to catch what sleep she could until Mister North would arrive in the morning.
