“We are professionals, not monsters.” The man in black spoke coolly, as he wiped his bloody hand on the corpse of the soldier who lay at his feat.

The soldier's blood snaked down the space between the cobblestones, following it like a meandering river before stopping at the small drain inside of Annabelle's cell. 

The once man, not corpse, had managed to strip her of her top before the man in black appeared to put a premature end to his assault, which Annabelle was grateful for, in spite of herself. 

She would have tried to stop the soldier herself, but her head throbbed, and her vision was unreliable for the missing right eye. 

She hadn’t let them take it easily. She managed to bite through the fingers of one man and ensure another never had kids again because they eventually, sloppily, carved it from her skull, leaving a mottled mess of raw pink flesh where her eye used to be. 

With her one good eye, she watched the man in black, as he pulled the soldier's corpse from her cell, and she wished he could sense the hate radiating off her. 

Honestly it was all she could do. She wanted to grab the soldier's weapon and kill this bastard, but she knew she didn’t stand a chance, not with the remnants of their last encounter still fresh in her carved up abdomen. 

He must have been able to pick up on the thoughts raging through her mind, because once he closed and relocked the cell, he stood and watched her for a moment, before eventually speaking. 

“You know-” 

“Shut the fuck up” Annabelle growled the words, she didn’t give a fuck about what this man had to say to her. 

His amused expression pissed her off, made worse by those horrible, pitch black eyes. They observed her like she was an animal, some unique curiosity to be caged, and she was caged, and that pissed her off even more. 

“So much of this could have been avoided, had you decided to join me, well, it wouldn't have saved the others but it could have prevented you from suffering.” The man continued.

It looked like he was a talker, just her damn luck. 

She already hated this man, but hated him more now that she knew which “type” he fell into. 

There were some men who just loved to hear themselves to hear the sound of their own voice. It didn’t matter what the hell she said, he would tell his piece just because he could. 

Annabelle rolled her eye, and crossed her arms over her chest. If she would be his captive audience he wouldn’t be getting a free show from her. 

“Do you know why I wanted you among my ranks?” 

“No, and I don’t care, but I have a feeling you’ll tell  me anyway.” 

“Very well then.” the man in black shrugged, and turned, walking away down the hall. 

Annabelle blinked. 

“Huh?” she said out loud. 

She watched as the man in black left the hall, closing the door behind him, returning her to the darkness of the dungeon she was in. 

She didn’t understand this man, not at all. In fact she had more questions now than ever. 

Firstly, why would a man of such incredible power, enough to kill two celestials as well as herself, need her? What use could she possibly serve to a man like that? 

Secondly, she didn’t understand him at all. If it was her that he wanted, why go through the effort of capturing the others? Why mutilate them, mutilate her? Why go through all of this effort?

Annabelle cursed herself for not letting him speak. As much as she wanted to gut him like a fish, he had answers and those answers had just walked out the door.

Hopefully he was going to speak to the others, wherever they ended up. 

Annabelle was alone in her cell, a single ten foot by ten foot stone room with metal cage bars allowing her a view into the single hallway that led from the door at the end to the door of her personal cell. 

A single torch illuminated the space, though only barely, enough for her to see the small pile of old moldy hay that was to be her toilet for Gods knew how long, as well as the faint stains of blood mixing with the fresh trail from the soldier who thought to get handsy. 

It was cold, really fucking cold. Her whole body shivered, and she tried to put her shirt back on, but it was so horribly ripped it looked more like a vest. Still, it was better than nothing. 

Annabelle closed her eye, and strained her hearing to try and pick up any sounds around her, to possibly locate any of the others. 

Unable to  hear anything, she shifted to press her ear against the walls and floor of the prison, until eventually she picked up the faint sound of scraping against the wall opposite the metal bars. 

Slowing her breathing, she studied the sound and recognized it as shifting movement, though heavily muffled it was obvious that it followed the same pattern as someone rocking back and forth, or shifting side to side. 

It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

Annabelle pressed her hands against the stones along the wall. Touching each one and trying to wiggle them to see if anything came loose. 

She had been in prison enough times by now, and gotten out more than a few of them. 

In a prison like this, the dungeon to some fort in the middle of the woods was likely unmaintained. Given the stains and lack of smell other than mold it meant this place hadn’t been used in quite some time. 

A smile cracked her face as her fingers managed to catch the lip of a stone that wiggled slightly. It was nothing more than a faint fraction of an inch, but it was something. 

Digging her fingers hard into the space between the cobblestone, she began to shift and wiggle the loose piece. 

The tendons and muscles protested and the extreme effort. The tips of her fingers themselves began to bleed slightly as she forced her whole body weight into the effort, until it gave just a little bit, and began to wiggle some more. 

Annabelle didn’t have a plan for if she managed to get out, or get into contact with whoever was on the other side of the wall, but she knew she had to do something. The worst possible course of action to take was none at all, so something was better than nothing.

Sure, sure figured that Casper wouldn’t just let this happen, assuming he even survived the auction house…

Annabelle slapped herself across the cheek and spit out a curse alongside the blood. 

Now was not the time to be thinking like that. Casper almost certainly survived, he was strong, hopefully stronger than this man in black at least. He would be coming for them, he had to be. 

Still, she couldn’t sit around like a damsel in distress waiting for Casper to come to her rescue.

His plans would rely on the understanding that they weren’t the kind of woman to take this kind of punishment sitting down.

She might not be able to fully escape herself, but she could make things a hell of alot easier for Casper when he did show up. 

Luckily for her, whoever was on the other side of their shared wall had the same idea. 

Annabelle felt as the stone moved independent of her own effort. 

After a few more back and forths, the stone gave almost entirely from its place in the wall, sliding enough to allow for a small flicker of light to be seen from the other cell. 

Thank the Gods it worked, at the very least now she could talk to one of the others to discuss their options. She had silently hoped it was Elisayra, so she could comfort the poor half-elf, or Alex to help bring reason to some of this…

“Who do I have the pleasure of assisting?” The deep, husky voice of the half fiend reached her ears, causing Annabelle's heart to sink slightly. 

“Dammit…” She swore, letting her back rest against the shared wall, as she brought her hands up to push her hair from her face. 

“I’m hurt to hear you are so disappointed.” Laihal teased.

She sounded like she didn’t have a care in the world, and that royally pissed Annabelle off. 

“Don’t sound too insulted”, She spat back.

How the hell could she be so casual about all this, let alone speak as if this was all just one big game. 

Annabelle thought for a moment. She couldn’t just let Laihal get away with being so blatantly disrespectful, especially when she was more or less convinced that the half-fiend was in on the whole damn thing. 

She knew Laihal was stronger than her, so now would be the perfect time to let the slave know exactly how she felt, with the wall between them as a barrier. 

“Alex was a fool to spend money on you. What an incredible tracker and hunter you must be, to allow us to be followed like that. That many men wander through the woods and you don’t hear them? That many soldiers in heavy armor and they catch us all surprised? I don’t buy it. Either you aren’t nearly as good as you claim to be, or you allowed this to happen” Annabelle spat the words like venom, smiling at the catharsis of the insults.

“Ha, you’re funny Annabelle, you know that don’t you? Please, as if I would willingly get a hole punched through my chest just to get back at any of you. Had I wanted to, I could have killed everyone in the camp without the help of bubbling perverts in armor. Insult me? You insult your own intelligence for making such an outstanding claim.” Laihal laughed, which only made Annabelle even more furious with her. 

Luckily, half fiends have increased healing abilities, able to recover in almost half the time it would take a human. The wound in her chest had turned non-fatal, but it was clear the pain of broken bones and punctured organs still bothered her, and Annabelle couldn’t help but to be grateful for the pain she felt. 

Annabelle chuckled, letting her head rest against the stone. Of course out of everyone to be in contact with, it had to be the half-fiend. 

“Are you amused?” Laihal purred, making sure to lace her own words with as much sass as she could, very likely specifically to piss Annabelle off.  

It did.

“Amused? No, I'm not amused, I'm fucking furious.” Annabelle corrected. 

“Of course you would be.” Laihal sighed. “So much anger in that body of yours, I just  happen to be a convenient little verbal punching bag for you then. Can’t take the anger of your own failures out on anyone else, and surely it can’t be your fault right? So it must be mine. You despise me out of convenience, admit it.” 

“Despise you? Don’t give yourself so much credit, slave, I don't despise just you. I despise all of you. Half-fiends, half-fiend tribals more so. Alex might be a bleeding heart for slaves but I am not, not for you or your kind” Annabelle spat on the ground between her legs. 

“I’ve seen what your kind can do, I know that this…civilized woman appearance is just an act. You target sex appeal to get your way, to be treated better than you deserve. It’s not going to work on me. I know what you are and I am not going to buy into it.” 

Annabelle shifted to gaze through the crack in the stone, so that she could see the half-fiend's face. 

“Besides, like I said. I’m not convinced this isn’t all your doing” 

The air between them fell silent for a time, before a pained, raspy inhale broke it. 

“Oh by the fates I would laugh if it didn’t hurt so bad” Laihal snickered. “Appearance of a civilized woman? All an act? You are correct in your estimations that I am barely civil tribal woman, but your failure to see the irony in that “accusation” is the most amusing thing you have said yet”  

Annabelle sucked in a breath to retort, but was cut off by another of the half fiends' chuckles. 

“I hear from my mistress that you are, were, a bandit. A nomad living off the loot stolen from those who can’t defend themselves. You strong arm old men and children for  money, rob and steal and kill to get your way and yet you sit here and proclaim you are better than I?’ 

“Silence, slave” Annabelle spat as she clenched her fist hard at the woman's words, but Laihal didn’t let up. 

“Slave? Again again with this.” Despite the pain, Laihal laughed more fully. The rasping ache of it brought only a little satisfaction this time, as the laugh came so genuinely it pierced into Annabelle's heart and stuck there like an broad tipped arrow. 

“I am a slave, but my mistress is not you.” 

Annabelle didn’t have to see her, to know the half fiend made some dramatic flourish with her hair and fluttered her eyelashes. 

“But I am-” 

“no no no.” Laihal clicked her tongue at her, as if Annabelle was some disobedient child to her. “You are nothing, bandit. You are a slave all the same as me. You may not have been bought but your fealty was sworn all the same. You hold no hierarchy over me. Believe me darling I will be obedient to the one who owns me, and she has given me no direction on how to treat the likes of you. Until such time that mistress Alex does, you and I are together at the bottom of the barrel. Which means I owe nothing to you, not even respect” 

Silence again, as Annabelle fought to think of something clever to say, something sharp to retort back with to get one over on this half fiend, but she struggled to find the words. 

“What's that matter darling, devil got your tongue?” Laihal teased. 

“Fuck you” Annabelle snapped. 

“Really? Right here? Right now? I suppose it would be difficult but I could always use my tail to-” 

“Shut. up.” Annabelle growled, shaking her head, before planting it firmly in her hands to rub at her temples. 

“All that time and that was the best you could come up with…” The half fiend sighed with disappointment. 

“Are you trying to piss me off? Because it’s working” Annabelle groaned, having silently admitted defeat. There was no way she could come up with anything clever or insulting enough to get under this woman's skin, and any attempt would just result in being further demeaned herself. She fucking hated fiends.

“No no, I'm not trying to do anything other than pass the time. You started this relationship with anger, I only matched your attitude. Treat others as they would treat you? Is that not a common turn of phrase among humans?” 

“No, it's not. It’s “do what ever the fuck you can to get a leg up in this god forsaken world, even if it means stepping on the backs of others.” Annabelle scoffed, paraphrasing the monologue her old leader had given her. 

“Such a cruel society, humanity is. And you claim us to be the savages…” 

“We don’t…” she was going to say eat their own kind or torture prisoners or display corpses like animals, but she quickly realized that they in fact did do all those things. In fact, the crimson harbor was a monument to the cruelty of humanity and this half fiend had lived in proximity her whole life. To her, humans were savages. Despite this realization Annabelle wouldn’t dare give this slave the satisfaction of knowing she was more or less correct. 

“I still don’t understand how you couldn’t sense them approaching our camp.” Annabelle quickly deflected, ignoring Laihal's last comment entirely. 

The half fiend sighed, almost sounding disappointed in herself, as if that were possible for the likes of a half fiend. Annabelle knew better than to buy into the pity. Fiends and their kin were only capable of deception and cruelty. Still, she was interested in hearing whatever poor excuse or lie Laihal happened to conjure up. 

“I did notice, but a little too late.” she offered with a heavy sigh. “I felt us being watched the night before we were taken. I had made an extra effort to disguise us, and the moment I realized I had failed and we were still being pursued by some manner of predator, I was assaulted by that man in black.” 

Annabelle paused at that. It wasn’t totally far-fetched, the man in black was a menace, and remarkably capable… 

“He was their forward scout. After subduing me initially and preventing me from informing the rest of you, he must have had some way to inform his men to begin their approach, having been positioned much further away. Given that we have seen him teleport I would assume it was a similar ability.” 

“You say ability, not magic. Why?” Annabelle asked. 

“Because magic requires movement and incantation, he used neither. He is likely to be marked.” 

Annabelle's skin went cold. It would make sense. Only a marked person could take on two celestials in hand to hand combat… 

“How could someone marked live to be so old though? They are killed as infants are they not?” Annabelle tried, not wanting to admit the truth of their situation. 

“Who knows? I am but a savage tribal.” Laihal mocked. 

Annabelle grunted in frustration. “Now isn’t the time to re-spark our little spat, I'm trying to gather information for when Casper comes to rescue us.” 

Laihal snickered at that, causing Annabelle to furrow her brow. 

“What's so funny?” 

“Oh nothing, only that you still believe Casper will save us. Mistress Alex had similar delusions. I'm not sure who this man is but you all have far too much faith in him. This man in black is marked. Casper, even if he wanted to come and rescue you, rescue us, mere slaves and servants, he wouldn’t live for even a moment against a marked man, let alone a skilled and combat ready marked man.” 

Out of everything Laihal had said to her thus far, this was the most insulting one yet. It took everything in Annabelle's power not to shout at the woman, for fear of alerting the guards, so instead she clenched her fists and made sure to lace every word with as much confidence as she possibly could. 

“Casper will come for us, and he will save us. You can sit there and insult me all you wish but do not not for a second doubt Casper's ability.” 

Annabelle must have succeeded in getting her point across, because for once the half fiend didn’t have a sassy retort. Instead, she posed a genuine question. 

“How is it possible you all have such a high opinion of this man?” 

“Simple, he’s saved us time and time again.” Annabelle responded genuinely. “He saved me from a hunter in the woods. He saved Alex from her uncle's abuse as well as Alex’s servant, he saved Elisayra from the streets and a life as an urchin. No easy feats I assure you either. I’ve seen him fight. I’ve seen him hold his own against a dozen men in armor. I’ve seen him show restraint, and honor and integrity and character in a world that’s supposed to crush men like him.” Annabelle couldn’t help but swoon as she spoke. 

Her thoughts lit up with the memories of their travels. It felt as though it had been only a few days at best, but a lifetime in its own way. 

“Hmmmm” Laihal mused to herself. “Well, color my curious. I look forward to hopefully meeting him, should he really come to our aid.” 

“Safe to say, you won’t  be disappointed” Annabelle stated matter o’ factly.

“Now, did you intend to simply pass the time by speaking? Or did you have something else in mind by removing the stone between our cells?” 

Annabelle shook herself from her passive daydreams of spending time by the fire with Casper, the late night conversations they had about nothing in particular or the stories they shared of their lives before this little adventure of theirs. 

“Right, we might not be able to escape ourselves, but we can make things easier for Casper when he does arrive. I need to be free of these bindings first, if possible.” Annabelle noted, looking at her tightly bound wrists

“Of course. They have bound my tail, but not nearly as tightly as the rest of me. It's possible that if you can aid me in freeing my tail, I can use it to assist us better.” 

“How can your tail help us?” 

“I can use it to remove the binds upon our arms. Once my hands are free I can use the nails of my fingers to pick the locks of our cells.” 

Annabelle considered, and then shook her head. 

“How do I know you won't simply free yourself? I can’t trust you enough to free any part of you first. If your nails are strong, use them to remove the binds on my wrists first.” she countered. 

“Tisk tisk, still so untrusting despite all our bonding? I'm hurt.” Laihal moaned with no small amount of sarcasm. “Fine, if you insist then”  

Annabelle stood up to place the bindings in view of the gap in the stone wall. It was large enough for the slave to slide two fingers through, and thin enough for the tips of her nails to scrape against the fibers of the bindings just barely. 

Laihal was right, her nails were strong, strong enough to make Annabelle nearly instantly question why she didn’t simply rip herself from the bindings to begin with. 

As Annabelle worked at her wrists, dragging the rope against Laihal's nails until it frayed enough for her to snap them apart and untangle the rest, the question mounted in her mind and she couldn’t help but ask it. 

“Why haven’t you just torn yourself out yet? Surely you are strong enough to remove a simple rope?” 

“You can not see it from here, but they placed a slave's collar around my neck, as they did with mistress Alex's elven slave. It prevents any significant use of magic.” Laihal spoke as if it were common knowledge, or that Annabelle should have guessed that was the case. If Annabelle was being honest she probably should have made that assumption, but was too caught up in her own frustration that it hadn't quite crossed her mind.

“A slave collar that prevents magic? Those are not easy to come by…” Annabelle took a mental note of that fact. She knew this man in black was profoundly powerful, but in order to procure collars like that to really use would have to mean he was well connected too. 

What was his play here? She thought. 

“Are they? They were common enough in the slave markets. All of my tribespeople were wearing them.” Laihal commented. 

“True, they must be much easier to procure in the crimson coast, doubly so after the chaos that transpired there.”

Annabelle, with her now freed hands, removed the stone more completely and positioned one hand through the hole in the wall. 

Laihal positioned herself so that the rope binding her tail to her hips was accessible, and Annabelle quickly worked the knot until the half fiends' tail came free. 

As Laihal repositioned the rope back around her body in order to ensure it appeared as though she was still  bound, while maintaining her full range of motion, Annabelle did the same to her wrists.

She didn’t know when Casper was coming to help, but she knew she better be prepared when he did.  

“You know, bandit, we can always pass the time in other ways, if you were still curious about the dexterity of my tail.” Laihal purred. 

Annabelle rolled her good eye and slotted the stone back into its place, cutting off the mild protest form Laihal. 

Annabelle really didn’t like fiends.