Anything but the wings
Closed Starter: @wrestmeridian Location: Near Kyngeshed
Destarin can be a dangerous place to live in, especially for those who don't possess a natural affinity for fighting, weaponry or magics. It takes a particular kind of person or creature to traverse the winding streets without fear. That particular kind of person would need an attentive eye perhaps, or an intimate knowledge of the residents, and the cultures, they would know the unspoken rules of survival.
Even with her golden brown wings which afforded Kalliste defence against most magics and weaponry, Kalliste knew to be careful. She was never seen out after dark, and even during the day she walked through the streets with her wings wrapped about her like an undulating set of armour shields. That is to say, Kalliste knew her vulnerabilities, and she compensated for them, perhaps a little strictly. But Kalliste is not without her flaws, and even the most safety conscious of Harpies could fly up into the rafters of an old decaying temple in the middle of a town like Destarin to explore, sit down for a breather and awake four hours later cloaked in the night's dark cloak.
It was cold when the Harpy opened her eyes and released her wings from the cocoon they had formed around her sleeping body. She sat up immediately, pushing away from the stone cold wall she had rested against, and at once saw how dark it was. Half of the wall of the temple had been torn down at some point during it's long history, and buildings had shot up around it, crowding it. The noise from outside of the temple was significant. It was clearly late enough for the Kyngeshed doors to be slammed open every minute or so, by patrons coming and going, hollering and singing, fighting and embracing.
The sound of life should have been reassuring, given the hair raising stillness of the temple remains, but the sounds of the streets hustle and bustle darkened Kalliste's heart with fear. She had never been caught out so late. She had never been out so late, so far from the room she rented, so far from the few friends she had made since moving to town.
It was as if the thudding of the Harpy's heart were as loud to the rest of the world as it sounded to Kalliste, because she heard a rough chortle. Kalliste flinched, looking about her, rising from the marble bench she was seated on. She was not alone.
Without a whole roof to provide shelter, moonlight should have lit up the room, but there were clouds in the sky that night, cloaking the moonlight. Instead, Kalliste relied upon her average eyesight and the flickering candle lights from neighbouring homes, and the Kyngeshed open windows.
A coarse whistle from the intruder sent Kalliste flying from the room. Panic surged through her, clouding her common sense, as her feet hit the stone, marble floors. Laughter followed her now, several voices whistling and cat calling, enjoying the sight of a frightened winged creature. When a hand reached out to grasp at Kalliste, claws tearing out feathers, Kalliste released a raw shriek of terror, surprisingly loud for the softly spoken harpy.
Somehow, Kalliste managed to avoid further grasping hands, and she escaped down a flight of steps, tumbling when she failed to spot a missing step in the darkness. Bruises would show within minutes, and Kalliste could taste blood in her mouth from where she had bit her lip upon landing. She was no runner, no athlete of any nature, and the intruders seemed to sense this. They gave her time to fall to the floor in a crumpled heap, and cheered her on as she dragged herself towards the exit.
"Help" Kalliste pleaded softly to no one as she clambered up, a boot missing, her hair dishevelled, her eyes shining with tears, and her cheek bruised and swelling. Pitiful, pathetic, Kalliste lifted her round eyes and stumbled forwards, headed for the exit, Kygeshed entrance doors in sight. Sharp white teeth ground together in determination, Kalliste's unsteady feet stamped desperately. She was so close to the streets, to potential freedom or aid, but her hopes were not realised. When she saw a looming figure or what looked like a familiar face through her teary eyes, Kalliste called out again in a hoarse whisper "Help-" before a large net was thrown over her face and she was dragged abruptly backwards.
It had not yet occurred to Kalliste to use her wings, to swat her attackers away. This was her first time in a life and death situation, and if she was lucky she would punish herself deeply for her delayed responses, her failure to utilise what the Gods had blessed her with. But Kalliste did not think she was going to be lucky. It is hard to feel lucky when a group of hooded figures are forcing you to the floor, wrapping a harsh, untreated, hemp rope net around her. With each twist and turn Kalliste gave attempting to fight the restraints, the rope cut deeper into her sensitive skin.
It wasn't the net however that brought a final silent shriek from Kalliste's lips though. Instead, it was the shining, silver sheers being passed between the assailants. Horror choked Kalliste who fell silent, freezing beneath her binds.