This isn’t exactly how he imagined venturing beyond the palace grounds. But honestly, it makes the most sense. How else could he be freed from the gilded cage aside from being beaten, bound, and brought… wherever this place is. Marteva hadn’t been permitted to be awake for much of the initial journey, a strike to the head ensuring his compliance. Drifting in and out of consciousness, broken pieces of being hauled over shoulders or tied upon the back of a horse.
The most vivid memory is of a figure breaking his wing. Bone and feathers cracking with a sickening sound. An unfamiliar pain that rooted DEEP within him, something odd about it… Something wrong.
Marteva prefers to not think about it.
It’s not as though there isn’t plenty else to take his attention, the bird tied up— arms bound behind his back and feet tied together as well, mouth gagged ( to quiet his incessant chirping ) —where he’s propped up against a decrepit wall; too drained to support himself. Their latest stop, what appears to be ruins of some sort. Curious blue eyes study the ones near his head, even through one eye trying to swell shut. May as well, while he has the opportunity. Keep his fogged mind busy. Distracted. The markings upon it are interesting, and who knows how long he has until they’re moving again. Or—
Tensing where he sits at the sound of a commotion near the entrance, he watches a few of the nearby bandits rush off to see what the trouble is. Hair fluffing like the ruffled feathers of a bird, keen gaze searches the darkness past what little light the fire offers. Keeping his breathing measured, he tries to stay as still and silent as possible, even the slightest shift of a feather could give him away. Not that there’s much he can do, chances slim… Futile, honestly. He can’t exactly move or find cover.
Marteva’s never felt like such a helpless fledgling, frustration bubbling in his guts as he exhaustedly glares into the unknown. — (( *throws a bird in here like a baseball* he’s going through the Horrors, but it’s fine jhnjgj ))
Taking down a group of bandits that had taken to hiding in the otherwise abandoned ruins around Skyrim was hardly a rare occurrence, it being at least once a week the Companions were asked to clear one group or another out, and that wasn't even counting the bounties given to other wandering sellswords when the need called for more arms than what the Companions had. It was almost boring at this point, clearing out the various ruins and forts around Whiterun, Farkas expecting this one to be the same as every other, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the apparent hostage, he was so caught off guard. It wasn't the fact there was one that was a surprise, (even though they typically knew beforehand if someone had been taken, it often the reason they were even hired), but the fact that this one was some sort of bird person. He'd never heard of such a thing before, and sure, the cat and lizard people weren't a very common sight in Whiterun, but he'd still come across them a time or two in his life, but never a bird.
The men assumedly meant to guard said bird were child's play to cut down, it taking but a single swing of his greatsword to put an end to them, Farkas about to leave the room, thinking it cleared of bandits, only his werewolf instincts told him there was another somewhere, one that smelled...different than the humans he'd just cut down. The others would no doubt call him stupid for letting himself get distracted like this, to look for something unknown without anyone at his back, but something wasn't right, he could feel it...
Instincts proved true as he rounded a corner, amber eyes seeming to glow in the low firelight, not even needing a moment to adjust before they landed on the bird, where they were quickly filled with confusion. "Never seen a bird person before." A simple statement, curt and dry in its deep baritone as he lowered his sword, it crystal clear there was no threat to be had in either of them. "No one said anything about a hostage, would've moved quicker if we knew."
For as large as he was, the man was gentle as he lowered himself to a knee, greatsword to be traded for a knife on his belt to cut their binds. "I'm Farkas, one of the Companions sent to clear this place out of those bandits, but something tells me they weren't any of the usual type." An obvious observation, given who he was saying it to, yet another thing that would get him called an ice brain by Aela for pointing out.
Mouth being ungagged first, the Companion then set his sights on cutting their binds, obvious care being given as to not accidentally knick them with the blade. "You don't have to explain anything right now, that's better saved for the others. I just need to know if I have to carry you out of here or not." Name? Reason for even being there in the first place? Hardly his concern whether he felt himself smart or not. Only thing that mattered was getting the person obviously in need OUT, deciding if they actually needed to get run through with a blade could come later.
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