Tracking the Lost (Clarissa)

[†Kazira Astras†]

Kazira sat across from Lord Mauntell her right ankle crossed over her right knee. It wasn’t the most lady like of poses but she was comfortable. For the meeting that day she had decided to wear a burgundy top with white sleeves that rested off her shoulders and ran under her leather arm guards at her wrists a linen cream skirt with slit up the sides that showed her black pants and boots. And at this point in the meeting being comfortable was the least of her worries... she wasn’t too fond of keeping up appearances when she was on the verge of igniting the room on fire. She was at her wits end with this man. He was arrogant, as most were that hired her, and just plain cocky. She’s seen roosters more humble than him before their deaths. Moros laid next to her listening to the transaction between them. The man wanted his friend to retrieve some stolen gold and other important trinkets from a local thief that has seemed to become rather prominent within Albion. The only thing that they weren’t telling her was a name.

“Alright. So you want me to hunt down this nameless ‘fiend’ retrieve your treasures and what…kill them not kill them. Bring back their heads. Drop their bodies in the river. What do you want me to do?”
Kazira was as patient as a four year when it came to people not willing to give the right information for her to do her job. She’s turned down better jobs just because they wouldn’t give her the name of the target. She didn’t work blind. She only needed a name. She would take it from there unless they had other plans of course. She was a sword for hire obviously. And if this was a child she would come back and chop their hands off. She had morals whether some wanted to believe it or not.

“We would like you to bring her…”

“Her?”


“Yes,” He tapped his half bald head with a handkerchief under her fierce glare. No one had mentioned this thief being a woman. They were worse than men most of the time. More vicious in a fight if cornered. She should know. “She has taken some large amounts of gold and several of our family heirlooms. We need you to retrieve them.”

She growled and slammed her hands on the table as she stood up sending her chair clattering to the floor. They had been at the desk for over an hour, him and his little advisor (or whatever the skittish man was), dancing around her questions like they didn’t matter. And she was through with it. She was going to get her answers and she was going to get them now. “Enough! You have danced around every question for the past hour and only now am I getting a gender and a better description of what she took. So now you Lord Mauntell and your little skittish sidekick over there are going to tell me what her name is. I could have really cared less about the history of your family and all of the other rubbish you’ve been feeding me,”
She straightened. “I told you when you approached me that I needed a name, description, and what you needed done. And depending on what it is I’ll set my price. At this rate I will charge you for my arse sitting in that chair!”


Moros had jumped up and stood paws out stretched and teethed barred. A low growl was emitting from his chest. He was rather upset with the stalling that the man before them was attempting as well. Especially since he seemed to think that Kazira had no idea that they were attempting to do so. “So tell me my lord if you were attempting to waste my time with the entire idle chat. Mind telling me what were you hoping to accomplish? That I would be a quit roll in the hay?”
Moros’ growl rose and Mauntell began sweat and shook his head denying the accusation profusely while in doing so admitting his own guilt.

Kazira placed a calming hand on her friends back and stroked the hair down. “Calm. Calma mi Moros.”
She looked at the men her eyes still fiercely angry while her facial features had returned to their neutral state. “Now,”
She stated as she sat on the table her arms crossed. “Do you mind telling me who I will be hunting?”


The men nodded, “Cl...Clarissa Lockwood.”

She blinked her eyes in confusion,"...Who?"

---

Tag:Clarissa Lockwood

TOD: Early morning- throughout the day
CLothing: look here for outfit

[Clarissa Lockwood]

“Why is it that the ale is always gone?” She murmured to herself, staring down a pint that she had snatched off an outdoor table as she had walked out of town, still spinning one of Lord Mauntell’s heirlooms around her finger. It was something of a crown, and therefore, proved difficult to find somebody to melt it down for her. Everybody always seemed to have a fear of melting down crowns, and the young woman could not fully understand why. It was just a ring of gold, nothing more, and yet, people still appeared to think that with the crown came power, and that, danger. Honestly, Clarissa Lockwood liked to think that she laughed at danger in the face, well, figuratively, before running away from it. But that was the life of being an outlaw, the Princess of Thieves, was actually the title that she had decided to adopt. It sounded much more…well, charismatic than just plain old Clarissa Lockwod, which was slow to roll off the tongue. No, the Princess of Thieves title was somebody to reckon with, somebody that all nobles and royals would lock up their gold if they heard such a name.

After all, she had been building a name for herself, not just in one town or city, but all throughout Albion. There were wanted posters up in her honor, and yet, they never quite seemed to get her face right. It troubled her greatly, for it made her think that Albion did not take her seriously as a thief, even though she had been going through almost every notable noble and royal family. Sure, there were still quite a few that she hadn’t gotten to touch yet, most notably, the Pendragons, but that was another plan in the making. Besides, it was best to lay low every once in a while. Couldn’t have all of Albion out for her just yet, it make giving away her findings a little more difficult, and she did not wish the pheasants to end up in the stocks, or even worse, on the chopping mount, for then that would probably defeat the whole purpose of this plan of hers, stealing from the rich, giving to the poor. The poor ending up on the death sentence rack was just…well, it was bad idea, and rather counterproductive if you asked her. Even Henry agreed so, and he for once almost never agreed with her brash antics…or was, just madness in general was how he tended to phrase her.

Sighing heavily, she tossed the pint aside now, allowing it to hit a tree as she continued to head down through one of the many forest masses located in Albion. Quite honestly, she had no idea as to where she was heading at the moment. It was a bad flaw of Clarissa, plans were never thought ahead of, they sort of just came to her as the situation arose. Although, she did wish that there was a proper way of navigation. Bored, she scooped up a branch from the ground as she continued on her way, and glanced it over. The branch was perfectly shaped as a fork, such as a fork in the road, and Clarissa’s brown eyes nearly went gleeful at the thought, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could just point me towards my deepest desire at the moment?” she asked it now as she glanced it over. But of course, that required magic, and studying, and patience that the young woman quite honestly lacked. It took her ages to learn the offensive spell that she used in sticky situations. Armor shattering things are quite important now, especially since most of the royal and noble families were being to up the stakes in which they had their gold protected. Everything was beginning to become such a challenge; it was shock that people had not fought back yet. Wanted posters were one thing, but perhaps it was good that they had not been sending the law or bounty hunters after her, Clarissa could quite honestly think of how annoying that would be.

Something like that though, it could probably be taking into some sort of a game, just like the thievery that she did from time to time. Everything was always such a game to Clarissa, it was hard for her to take life seriously, and the fact that she walked drunk half the time, with such odd and awkward long strides, it was probably hard for people to take her seriously as well. But that did not bother the young woman at all, if they thought her a fool, then she was usually the one to get the last laugh. People underestimated her to no belief, and she couldn’t quite understand why. Perhaps it was because she was a girl, or that she didn’t come from a high class, hell, people thought her mad or daff, that might be the case as well, because nobody ever wants to admit that a daff person, especially a woman who is daff, could actually outwit people who take pride in being smart. There was one thing that Clarissa always kept in mind when in a game of wits or just in life in general, it pays to be smart, that’s for sure, but not just knowledge smart, one has to be street smart as well. Put the two together, and it is a dangerous combination to mess with, and well, also being daff, well, they might as well just give you the prize right off the bat.

But people didn’t believe in that, and the people who didn’t believe in that were often the ones who got stolen from and they ponder why. A sigh escaped her now, all of this thinking was making her head hurt, and she didn’t have any ale to wash it all away. Oh, what a pain it was to be sober some times. An annoyed huff escaped her and she kicked a small rock up, sending it flying and well, nearly causing herself to topple over as well. Thankfully though, she managed to stay up right, for the time being at least. Clarissa had only walked down the forest path a little bit longer until she stopped dead in her tracks now, staring at something just up ahead. It was a little Frith, a rabbit in other terms, sitting there and nibbling on some clover. It paused for a moment and stared at her with its big brown hazel eyes for a moment before deeming her suitable and went back to eating. A grin played across her face as she sat down now and watched the rabbit. Clarissa had always loved rabbits, she thought them relatable to. They were an animal of a thousand enemies, and often, that was how Clarissa felt too. Rabbits were clever and quick, very much like her. She still remembered the time when she informed her mother that she wanted to be a rabbit rather than a lady.

Oh, that had been a fine time in the Lockwood household that day. Her mother was such a troublesome woman some times. The rabbit paused again in its eating, ears twitching as it glanced around before letting out a warning call, it thumped its large foot against the ground before it pushed itself off of its powerful haunches, white tall flashing, as the rabbit dove into the woods now. Clarissa’s eyes narrowed slightly, “How curious, what was it you saw?” she murmured now, but did not move. Her body tensed up slightly now, and her fingers moved ever so slightly and felt up the tip of her bow now, if she had to strike something down…or somebody, then she would be ready, and the last thing that they would ever see would be an arrow coming straight from her.

Notes: That is one snazzy outfit!
Tags: Kazira Astras
Song: He's A Pirate - PotC soundtrack