"Know what I love about these higher end hotels?" Sarna asks, her voice a sensuous growl.

She gives the woman she's speaking to a moment to answer, but the Archer just stares back in wide eyed terror. The brown haired woman is still wearing the dirty, bloody armor from earlier, but is currently incapable of moving about.

River is nearby, intentionally cleaning his knives, dagger, and spikes on a low table for her to see. His clothes, as well as Sarna's, have self cleaning enchantments.

The Archer is bound, gagged, and seated on the ground in front of an intricately designed love seat. Sarna sits above her, legs straddled to either side while she plays with the woman's shoulder length, wavy hair.

"They value their patrons' privacy and enchant the walls with sound muting ritual circles. So, no matter how loud they got during, say, strenuous, physical activity that may or may not involve deep penetration--"

When she says the last words she makes sure to point the woman's face toward River who is cleaning the weapons looted from their attackers. He looks back at her meaningfully as he cleans his new sword.

"--of the most invasive varieties... No one would be the wiser. So... hm... how rude of us. We don't even know your name."

She traces a finger along the edges of the strip of cloth covering the entire lower half of the woman's face.

"If I take this off, do you believe we can have a rational conversation?"

She nods her head emphatically.

"Wonderful." It only takes her a moment to remove the cloth which disappears in her new spatial pouch. She lifts her up by her waist and sets her down on the couch beside her. "And your name, my dear?"

"Ze--Zendi."

"Well, Ze-Zendi," she says teasingly, "We already know the group your associated with. Aside from your friend, who sadly couldn't attend our little tea party, I'm quite familiar with the mark you wear and the colors of your armor. What I would like to know, is who made the contract and what it entails."

Fear seems to catch hold of her tongue and she stays silent, watching River work. He can see that he's having too strong of an effect on her, especially after the swift and bloody battle, so he puts everything away for the moment.

Though he approaches her slowly and carefully, Zendi still flinches as he places a hand on her shoulder.

"Dirt and grime, muck and mire begone."

A blue-tinged ring of white light coalesces just above Zendi's head and slowly glides down, expanding just enough to fit her within it, passing through the couch like it wasn't there as it cleans her top to bottom.

"Regain a fragment of life."

He casts the healing spell several times until he's sure her health is topped off and the small cuts and scrapes are gone. His actions and warm smile unnerve Zendi and her body shudders.

"Good lad, though now we have the issue of what to do with her after we get some answers. Are you okay with letting her go since she knows your face so well?"

"If my lady allows it, I would like to try something."

No one can see her eyebrow arch in curiosity under her mask, but she places a hand on Zendi's thigh, "Oh? Is it a kind of torture?"

"Indeed."

She squeezes her thigh and turns to her. Zendi's face drops at this new, new turn in events and tears build in the corners of her eyes. She mumbles something that sounds like begging, but they don't respond to it.

"It shall be a kind of torture, my lady, one that will be quite... overwhelming to the senses. I would think it best if you allowed me to work with her in private? So as not to possibly subject you to similar effects."

"Goodness," she clasps her hands in excitement, "How thrilling! And how much time would you need?"

"I have most of it set up already, but maybe an hour to be safe?"

"Then you have my blessings. I would very much like the answers to my only two questions, but torture for the sake of torture is fine, too. Good luck, Miss Zendi."

With this, she pats Zendi on the top of her head and leaves them to their work.

She makes her way back down to the lobby where a small lounge was built to provide a place to meet over a drink or two. Even with her mask on, she has to dismiss a few attempts at getting to know her better.

She wonders if she should've just taken it off for the last guy, give him a really good scare.

The Betrayer... she thinks to herself, I wouldn't have had to become one if those idiots weren't a bunch of self righteous pricks or power hungry weirdos. If only I was a part of the class from the year before...

She tilts her head up to look at the ceiling.

Then again, I might not have met River...

She sighs, sending away another man with another drink. Seriously, how does a woman with a black mask appear so desirable?

Her thoughts drift back to the scene upstairs with River and Zendi. She couldn't believe how quick on the uptake he was with the whole torture act. There may have been times when she actually did a bit of mud work, but for a provincial gang like the Ravenous Rats she wouldn't waste her time or energy.

She was merely curious, something River picked up right away. In the battles she's seen him in, be it man or monster, he's been cold and calculating. Always two steps ahead, yet ready to improvise at a moment's notice.

Otherwise, she's never met a sweeter person. Kind, gentle, and a damn good listener. Strong. Tall. Handsome--

Shit. Don't go there, Sarna. Not now. Not with him. He's... like, a little brother. Right?

After a few minutes over the hour River estimated and a glass of wine-- she finally accepted an offer from a gorgeous elven woman who genuinely loved her attire and wanted nothing more than a small chat-- Sarna heads back to the room.

Nothing in her imagination could prepare her for what she is about to see.

Sobbing uncontrollably at the dining table, Zendi is out of her armor and wearing a set of River's casual clothes; grey tunic and loose, woven pants. Her arms hang limp and she's practically melting down her seat, head hanging off the back rest and tears streaming down her cheeks.

River hands over a sheet of parchment with some notes he could gather from her. The sheet is half full, much more than she was expecting.

"Wha... what happened to her? What did you do, River?"

She was so shocked she accidentally used his real name, but Zendi probably couldn't hear it over her own wailing.

"We had a nice little chat during dinner. You see, my lady, I've been experimenting with some blue star ingredients in the kitchen at home and had a couple of dishes prepared for testing.

"The biggest dilemma I have with the dishes is that, until I can obtain more of the ingredients I used, I can't replicate them."

"So?"

"Apparently," he looks back at the distraught woman, "The dishes were well beyond the quality one could find in a town like Ruminy or possibly even the capital according to her."

"Hope you saved me some."

"That... is actually the torturous part. I did not inform Miss Zendi about the near impossibility of recreating said dishes before offering them for her dinner."

"Pa-- pa-- perfect..." Zendi blubbers through fat tears and a runny nose, "Like eating.. a bowl... of orgasms..."

River drops his butler act and scratches the back of his head with a sheepish grin, "She ate it all..."

Sarna stares at her with raised eyebrows, "Wow, almost wish I was here for it."

River gives her a nervous head shake and grimaces as they watch Zendi practically fold in half lunging forward and lick desperately at the tablecloth. Horrified by the strange turn of events, Sarna glances over at the River patting her back and trying his best to console her.

Am I a bad influence?

---

River sits awake on a recliner in the living room. Zendi isn't bound anymore and is sleeping quite comfortably on the couch with a pillow and a blanket. It's possible that it's the most comfortable thing she's ever slept on.

Sarna decided to take her down to the adventurers guild the following morning since they have a kind of judicial system in place for alleged PKers. With no evidence, except for witnesses that neither she nor River feel like bothering, they're probably just going to let her off with a fine or a week or two in confinement.

After botching the attack, only Zendi is in any real danger of reprisal from the Ravenous Rats. The other two aren't concerned in the slightest.

From behind his open deck, he can hear Zendi muttering in her sleep and he can see a fat tear rolling down her cheek. He starts to pity her, but he catches a few words about glorious feasts and he shakes his head.

Minor, Circle of Protection II Xperia: 33% Tier 3 Action Armist, Brawler, Caster, Healer

- Requirement: Arcana 20, Chi 20

- Cost: 10MP + 5SP

- Range: Touch

- Summon a shield that will absorb damage up to 60% of your maximum Health or last up to 2 seconds, whichever elapses first.

- Cooldown: 1 minute

The other four cards are Boons that would serve him better as cash. Sarna didn't count the little exchange she had with the swordsman and mace wielder, so River got to keep all the loot from the battle.

Really, he only wanted the Caster's dagger and the chance for the Protection card, but he wasn't going to argue. The green star card is worth more money than the others combined, but the value to River is priceless.

The reason why he stopped wearing the typical armor sets of the other adventurers is because they either never fit right or never looked appealing for him to wear. It seemed to him that even just the metal armors steadily became gaudier the higher in star rank they got.

Ostentatiously trimmed with jewels, bones, spikes, and/or a multitude of impractical looking adornments, they just didn't look like something he could wear while working in the tower or walking in the streets of Ruminy. Plus, he wouldn't be able to don or doff them at a moment's notice. Speed and efficiency of movement are two of his few points of personal pride.

No one would find him on a list of the top twenty in any of the classes using their main statistic for comparison; e.g. Rogues with Dexterity or Casters with Arcana.

His stats don't improve overall as much as the Class Cores of blue to gold star rarity, mid-to-super rare. They actually increase in total as much as a green star, the fifth lowest star.

He may even be reaching the highest tier (tier five) of essences he can slot fairly soon with no hope of progressing any further even if he were to reach level one hundred.

However, none of that matters to him.

As long as he can continue collecting helpful essences to serve Agmus Mak, and now Miss Sarna as well, then he has purpose. If he can do so by adhering to his newly developed personal aesthetic, then he can be happy.

As he closes his personal parchment and gets comfortable in his recliner, he breathes out through his nose, tired, but happy.