Chapter 20: Longevity

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"I guess the Brine doesn't have a taste for Arisens." She thought, as she woke up from a pit of darkness.
*Cough, cough* "Who the--?" Arya grabbed the neck of a dark skinned man in orange clothing.
"Hail, Arisen. Quite the way to greet someone that saved your life."
She quickly let go, but noticed that she was wearing a lavender tunic, "You.. Stripped me!"
"Twas the only way to apply medical care."
She quickly grabbed his neck again, "You scoundrel! Pervert!"

"How is she?" Asked a deep, yet familiar voice.
Arya looked up, noticing the tall black-clad man that helped her when she bought her first sword, the knight that threatened the two drunk guardsmen. "Ser.. Uhm.. Ser!"
He glanced at her emptily, "You say, she's Arisen, Mason?"
Mason coughed and hacked as Arya continued to choke him, "Yes, *cough* she is."
The man turned to Arya, and shared a smile, "Greetings Arisen, I am Arturo. My apologies for the brusque treatment. I wished only to see your safety."
His heavy voice was somehow calming, she glared at him with curious eyes while still wringing Mason's neck. "Say, Arturo, where am I?"
He chuckled, "The.. Underground quarter of Gran Soren."
"So, basically the slums?"
"Will you please unhand my friend? He seems to have lost consciousness."
She let go of Mason's neck, he dropped lifelessly to the ground.
Arturo took her hand, "Please, come with me."

"I apologize for the rather effortless raiment," said Arturo as he slipped a dark blue shoe on her foot. It was made of a soft material and had small jewels on it."I wanted you to be exposed for as short as possible." He looked away, "I feel slightly ashamed for even gazing upon you for as long as I did while tending your wounds."
She wiggled her toes inside the shoe, "My boots were lost?"
Arturo raised his brow, "Boots? Those old things?"
Arya stared at him blankly, "Yes. They have protected my feet quite well, ser and I would prefer them or sommat like them."
He smiled suddenly, "Ah. Well, right away."

They walked through the residential quarter, Arturo looked down at Arya as she walked next to him. "So, Arisen.."
She looked up at him, "Yes?"
"Do you.. Feel power coursing through your body?"
Arya stopped for a few moments, "I've no idea, ser."
He stared directly ahead of him, being awkwardly silent. Arya smiled, "Besides, I'm not powerful. I'm just doing my best."
He grumbled something under his breath, then turned to her, "Ah, well I'm sure that with time you'll get where you want to be, Arisen."
They stopped in a small shop, and were greeted by a chirpy voice, "Well hello!"
Arya looked over quickly, "Gabrielle?"
There was a bit of a pause. No, it turned out to be the 'best peddler in all the lands.'
"You!" Both women spoke at the exact same time. Madelaine folded her arms and looked away. Arya looked at all the wares she had on display, there were strange brassieres and different sized gaiters. To the Arisen, it looked like Rei may have shopped here a time or two.
"I don't... like this shop," said Arya, plainly.
Arturo looked over, chuckling, "Surely you jape. This shop is perfect for a lady of your standing as Arisen."

Arya paused for a bit, coming to a shocking realization. This is what it feels like to be a 'lady.' To be pampered and carried around like some type of trophy. She looked at Madelaine, who was tall with large breast and fair skin. She wore makeup and stood with prettiness. "That, is a lady" she thought to herself. She looked down at her body, dirty, shabby and not lacking a fair amount of muscle. Arya's hair was greasy, and her fingernails were all chipped. She had been this way ever since her family was slaughtered.
"I'm not a lady." Arya said, "I'm a fighter! I wouldn't trust my life to this... Silly garment." She turned toward the door, "My apologies, ser. I'll be leaving first."

She left Madelaine's shop, thinking about Edward, and how upset she was when he didn't treat her like a lady. She didn't receive well the amount of understanding and respect he showed her, as a warrior. Arya was happy to be in a new place but was quickly lost in the maze of a capitol. Most of the people walking about were mercenaries, all armed to the teeth. She figured she could find out where to buy(steal) a sword.
She approached one of them, "Bonjour... Eliza?"
"Greetings, Arisen."
"How... do I know your name?"
Eliza raised her right hand, revealing her glowing pawn print. "How may I assist you, ser?"
Arya thumbed her chin, forgetting why she began the conversation, but quickly raised a finger,"Do you know of a pawn named Ceres?"
Eliza stared at Arya in silence for a moment, "My apologies." Then walked away. Arya continued through the quarter before stopping, greatly irritated. She suddenly felt extremely sleepy, and dozed off on the walkway.

"Arisen.. Ser Arisen."
Arya woke up quickly, and was greeted by Arturo. He sat down, leaning on his knees, "My dearest apologies, Arisen. I was.. inconsiderate." He presented her with beautifully light plate armor, "I figured something like this would better suit your tastes."
She grabbed it quickly, "My thanks, ser!"
"Took just about every coin in my pocket, as well."
"Hm?"
"I said, I have other pieces of equipment as well. Even the finest armor is useless without comfort."
Arya smiled brightly, "My dearest thanks."
He led her to the inn, owned by a man called Asalam. There, she donned her new armor. A brigandine jerkin went under her falcon-themed chest plate and had a pair of armored gloves. She donned a pale blue shoulder cape and wore her metal greaves. After fastening her boots she spun lightly, "I look quite the fighter, don't I?"
Arturo looked away, taking a sip from his cup, "Indeed. However, I do demand a price."
She pranced happily to the table and sat across from him, "Yes?"
He looked her in the eyes, the yellow glare of the inn's lanterns glowing in his green eyes. "Tell me about yourself." He handed her a cup, "Have something to drink."
Arya took the cup, "Uhm.. All right then."

"So that's what you do, huh?" Said a young man's voice from the other side of the inn. "Get her drunk first?"
"Calm, ser Ike, 'tis nothing to become riled-up about." Said a sweet woman's voice.
A slim man pounded the table, "What's your angle, huh!? You must be 10 years her senior!"
Arya scooted back. Arturo stood up, pressing his chest against the stylishly slender man, whose white hair shined magnificently in the light of the night sky as it peeked through the window.
"Tis none of your business, mage." Said Arturo, leaning scarily into the white-haired man's space.
A woman, also white of hair approached the men slowly, "It is said that when two men fight in the yard, a woman shouldn't interfere..."
Arturo looked over quickly, the woman continued, "But this isn't a yard, now is it?"
The tall, staturely man that was Arturo looked at her for a couple of seconds, then turned away quickly.
"Come, Arya. I've no time for this scum." He grabbed her hand and led her from the inn.

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