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As the horse is the same steed with which she had conducted her training, an important factor, Drevard had explained, in her duties, that she and her mount function as a unit, the beast is loyal to Alysa and does as she commands. Much like Alysa, the horse had been forced into a life of servitude but, unlike the steed, Alysa had never been properly broken. It had simply been a matter of biding her time, learning all she could and finally decided to pursue her own personal path as she always would.

She knows that the roads are rarely traveled any longer, save by the poor or the very wealthy. Those who can afford to do so prefer to ride the train between locations where possible. Still, there were those lonely highways that lay between cities or towns, such as that she knew so well near Damora, where she might earn some coin by coercion and intimidation. If she moves around enough, Alysa knows, the Stalkers shall find it more difficult to catch her. Moreover, she is wise enough to hide her trail, making it that much more difficult to follow. She might even idly wonder how many other renegade stalkers there were who had decided to live a life unbound by strictures or structure. For the first time in a long time, Alysa felt truly free.

Even so, there were some flaws in her plan. For one, suitable targets were few and far between, especially when she wandered. Working the same road for too long, regardless of how isolated, is certain to summon the attention of the local constabulary, if not the Oathkeepers themselves. Staying one step ahead of the Stalkers could be tricky as well.

During her time in Damora, Alysa had been involved with a young man whose vices had proved to be his undoing. Being so young and inexperienced, she had willingly submitted to his authority, only to find herself abused and betrayed, It had been a harsh lesson but it had cost her little more than her pride and her virginity. Since that time, she had been without a lover and fraternization among her fellow apprentices had been strictly forbidden during her training. Now, without that burden upon her, Alysa is liberated to indulge herself in whatever manner of pleasures suit her.

It seems strange that so grand a carriage such as the one that she encounters along a hilly thoroughfare towards the mining town of Gornmont would have chosen so remote a route when the main road is easily more passable than this rocky, narrow path that winds upward into the mountains. It is an almost suspiciously inviting target and yet the vehicle, which is horse drawn as steam carriages have some difficulty with steep grades, appears unescorted by the usual team of mercenary riflemen or, on one occasion, a small parade of clockwork automatons that rattled and clicked as they marched beside their charge.

The driver is a sullen, grim looking man with dull eyes and drab white hair peeking out from under his top hat. He is clad in a heavy black topcoat which spreads out around him like the wings of some colossal raven. There is a lash at his side, and likely a rifle underneath his seat, but he does not appear otherwise armed. As for the passengers, they remain hidden behind a heavy silken curtain that conceals the interior of the richly appointed carriage. Just as splendorous are the adornments on the team of four horses that pull the coach.It is here that Alysa sees her opportunity, she has been observing this road for days and this is the first coach she's seen that offers even a hint of gold. The young woman is wary, but she is not about to let this opportunity pass her by. With a click of her tongue between pouting lips she coaxes her horse out in front of the team, her wheel-lock pistol in her hand and pointed at the driver.

Her soft and yet cruel voice rings out among the trees around them, her trusted mount steady and still beneath her. "Give me your gold my friend and there is no need to hinder your travel further, should you refuse however I will be more than happy to arrange a meeting between you and your god". She is familiar with the feeling of taking a life, having relived the events of the night she killed Jothan over and over in her mind to prepare herself for the road ahead. And yet she cannot stop the pistol in her hand from shaking slightly, praying silently that the man she is attempting to rob will not notice.

A delicate ivory hand draws aside the curtains with the carriage for a moment before letting them fall into place and the driver silently, sharply pulls back on the reins, bringing the horses to a halt. With a numbed expression and empty, open eyes, the aged driver simply stares at the figure on horseback, whose eyes are hidden behind goggles.

A strangely enchanting feminine voice calls out from within the coach, 'Do not be shy, my dear. If you wish to receive your rewards, you must come closer.' There is something alluring about those words, the invitation almost irresistible as it is suggestive.

Alysa rears her horse to the side, an impressive display as she hestiantly approaches the coach, ready at a moment's notice to turn her horse and flee.The door opens and there sit two people. One is an older gentleman, clad as Alysa would expect of one who is likely to own this vehicle, in the finery of a city dweller, from the ruffled collar and cuffs to the heavy woolen coat, all appointed with a golden brooch and multiple rings on his fingers.Yet despite his obvious wealth and potential for a profitable evening for Alysa, it is the woman who cannot help but draw her attention.

She is much younger than her male companion, with radiant skin that seems to glow even in the sparse light of the lantern hanging from the front of the coach. Her dark hair hangs around her shoulders but is tied on the top with an ornate black ribbon. Oh, but it is her eyes that are truly captivating.They are a deep blue, almost indigo, and they seem to sparkle with the glitter of reflected stars. On her full, delicate lips is a small smile.

'This is an absolute outrage!' Her male companion snaps, reaching for something upon his opposite hip, wedged between his generous body and the plush wall of the velvet covered interior. 'How dare you try to take that which is rightfully ours!'

'Do not trouble yourself,' the woman coos softly, not taking her gaze off Alysa. 'This woman is obviously in greater need of coin than we and why not spare some for her?' Her slender fingers caress the most curious pendant she wears around her throat and dangles down into the lush valley of her full breasts. In that moment, she might be the most beautiful woman that Alysa has ever seen. She shifts her full hips and raises a dark brow.

By this time, her companion has attempted to brandish his own pistol but it fumbles from his grasp and falls to the floor of the carriage. He attempts to position his bulk so that he can lean down to reach it but his arms does not quite manage.

'You must forgive my husband,' the woman, who appears somewhat older than Alysa but is still well in her prime. 'He feels he must do his utmost to defend my honor as well as other possessions but surely this woman doesn't intend to take more than she absolutely needs.'

She raises one of her long legs and, with her high heeled foot in the man's shoulder, shoves him back against the opposite wall of the carriage. 'Now, dear, surely you should not react so boldly or rashly to so obviously dangerous and fearless a woman as this one.'

Alysa is thoroughly confused by this beautiful woman and her actions, wasn't she supposed to be afraid? She rips her eyes away from the sight of the woman as she notices the man grabbing for his pistol and faster than he can blink her own is in her hand and aimed at him.

"I don't suggest that course of action" she purrs, eyeing up the man's wife with a look that would rival a wolf's hungry gaze. Her horse, still steady beneath her awaits her command almost as readily as her finger caresses the trigger of her weapon.

"Your husband?" Alysa asks, indulging her curiosity for a moment as a plan forms in her mind "surely you jest M'lady! A woman as lovely as yourself with a man like him? Surely he has kidnapped you and it is my duty as a fearless woman to rescue you, along with whatever ransom he has clearly stolen from your family!"

Somehow, Alysa knows that is precisely what this woman desires and her smile widens as she bats her eyelashes. 'Surely you don't intend to take me away from my husband, do you?' she inquires not so innocently.

'No!' The gentleman shouts, almost lunging out of the carriage but his wife snarls at him. 'Stay where you are! I've had enough of your greasy hands pawing at my body! I never would have been wed to you had mother not insisted!'

'Take anything! Anything!' The well dressed but thick bodied and old man cries, his eyes bulging from their sockets, spittle flecking his chin as his hat nearly slips from atop his bald head. 'But leave me my wife!'

His bride, rather perversely, seems to take some pleasure in his dismay and smirks coyly at Alysa. 'And whatever would you do with me, good lady? Surely you would not intend to ransom me.'

Alysa of course is encouraged by the woman's smile and presses her pistol to the man's chest, pressing the cold barrel against the center of his ribcage, as she glances at the woman.

"Why M'lady, you assume so little of me!" she feigns insult at the suggestion that she will ransom the woman as she leans against her mount, coaxing him closer to the coach. "I simply mean to rescue you from this scoundrel who has so clearly taken advantage of you and return you to wherever your pleasure might lie".

With this she motions for the woman to come closer, increasing the pressure on the man's chest as she does lest he get some idea of resisting."As for you" she hisses "I shall relieve you of whatever gold you have and the wife you so clearly never wanted, of course doing all parties involved a favour as it were". Her blue eyes turned on the man and glinted like the icy winter waters of the sea, a wicked grin parting her lips.

'It would seem, my dear,' the woman demurs softly as she nods at her husband, 'that you are overruled.'

'No!' The gentleman suddenly grabs at Alysa's wrist in an attempt to seize the gun or twist it from her hands.

'Now, Arturo, you're making this more difficult than it needs to be!' His wife sighs, slipping out of the carriage even as Alysa's horse rears up suddenly and nearly throws its rider off the saddle while at the same time this man is pulling on Alysa's arm.

The driver is still staring straight ahead, unconcerned, while his master struggles with Alysa.

Alysa however is used to the actions of her horse and manages to jump just before the horse rears up, pulling her wrist free from the man's grip. The thought of pulling the trigger crosses her mind but a quick glance at the woman on the ground makes her realize that he would suffer more from this loss should he live to tell about it.

She instead tips the gun towards the roof of the coach and fires a warning shot as she stares into the man's eyes. "Touch me again and the next one goes through your heart, you will not be the first man to die by my hand and you shall certainly not be the last, now give me your gold and I shall be on my way, the choice is yours to make, your wife and your money are coming with me either way".

Alysa had never been one to kill for the sheer joy of it, but something tells her that should she talk to this man's wife she might find more than enough reasons to pull the trigger, after all why would the woman want so desperately to be free of him?

Her horse has finally settled and she beckons it close once again, jumping from the coach onto the animal's back as she waits for the man to make his decision, her pistol once again aimed at his chest. "Or perhaps your rather captivating wife will tell me where to find what I desire and I shall simply help myself".

'You heard her, Arturo!' The woman giggles. 'Stop being so difficult!'

The shot fired into the ceiling causes the horses drawing the carriage to suddenly bolt, surging forward and yanking the driver off his perch. He is rapidly trampled by the animals before being run over by the coach, whose wheels roll over the almost certainly dead man and crush his bones beneath its weight.

It is all Alysa can do to adroitly jump from the top of the carriage and land upon the back of her horse.

'NOOOOO!' The gentleman bellows as the coach careens up the slope of the road, nearly crashing into the trees. 'MIRA!' He pitches forward, rolling out of the still rapidly racing vehicle and tumbles out onto the gravel path, lying there sobbing and still moaning what is apparently the name of the woman who stands beside the road, appearing very amused by this turn of events.

Alysa has come to the conclusion that her skills might need a little work and that clearly rescuing damsels is not her strong suit. She can't really count this among her victories but she did end up on the better end of things. She has also learned that being a thief and this job clearly require two very different skill sets. She turns her blue eyes on the woman and offers her a hand to pull her into the saddle in front of her. "Well M'lady if nothing else I have rescued you, now we best be off before someone notices your husband squealing like a stuck pig and calls the authorities".

As she approaches Alysa, the bandit's horse shall again become rather agitated, whinnying and moving away but the woman steps forward regardless and coos softly to the animal. 'Don't be afraid, my dear. I'll not harm you.'

Almost at once, the horse calms and the woman strokes his neck. 'He's a fine beast,' she comments. 'Has he a name?' She takes hold of Alysa's hand and, with more strength that might be evident in her body, pulls herself up in front of Alysa, riding side saddle as opposed to resting her legs astride.

'I believe I know of a way we can prevent him from talking,' the woman says softly, wrapping her silken sheathed arms around Alysa's neck. She is only slightly smaller than the bandit woman and her curvaceous body, swathed in black, presses into Alysa. It is a chill night and this woman feels rather cold against her.

'Finish him and you may have whatever you can find in his carriage.'

In addition to her amethyst studded earrings and her bejewled bands around her fingers, she has an amulet nestled in her cleavage that appears to be a bright vivid green yet seems to have a swirling shapeless black center, not unlike ink oozing into water.

'I have so long endured his touch but take his life and you may have me and his wealth,' she murmurs, her soft lips brushing against the hollow of Alysa's throat.

Alysa hesitates for a moment, but she knows that it is in her best interest at this moment to stop this man from talking, especially since should she be found she will surely hang for the murder of her partner. It is with this thought in her mind that she jumps down from her saddle, leading the horse and the woman with it over to where her husband is laying on the ground. "M'lady I would suggest you avert your eyes for a moment while I deal with our mutual problem" she coos as she steps towards the man, her pistol levelled at his heart.

"As for you your lovely wife has a point, I cannot risk you talking and she certainly does not wish you to come after her" the tall blonde looks down at her victim "and I did say I would arrange a meeting between you and your god should you defy me and you have at every turn". With that the sharp retort of her pistol firing echoes off the trees around them and the acrid smell of gunpowder fills her nose.

'Please, no! By the Law and the Oath, spare my life!' The man's jowls quiver with fear as he pleads for his life. 'Please!'

But his complaints fall upon deaf ears and the only reply he receives is the sound of the woman's pistol as it fires a lethal shot into his chest.

His wife does not avert her eyes but watches with an almost secretive smile.

'Now, go, hurry and catch up with the carriage! You shall ride faster without me with you!' The woman bids Alysa. 'I shall be here when you return. I wouldn't know where to go in this forest by myself and I would like to say a few last words to my husband.'

Alysa nods as she helps the woman out of the saddle and climbs onto the horse's back once again. "should you choose to run M'lady I cannot promise I will pursue you and there are far worse things in the night than myself" she says as a warning before coaxing her horse into a gallop and taking off on the heels of the runaway horses. There is something strange about the woman she has 'rescued' and she cannot quite put her finger on it, but she is almost certain that the woman intends to run from her and therefore will not be waiting when she returns. But perhaps she is wrong, only time will tell.

Nodding faintly, she smiles. 'Oh, that I know very well, my dear,' she replies sweetly, 'but hasten to catch the carriage! I shan't move from this place until you return! After all, I am lost and in need of a guide.' She bows her head slightly as she looks down at her husband and falls to her knees beside his body.

The carriage is not so difficult to find but the horses are gone, having torn the yoke from the vehicle and can still be seen in the darkened distance, dragging it between them and leaving a trail of dust behind them. However, their burden is considerably lighter as it lies overturned on its side in the road, two of its wheels still spinning. There are some oblong boxes lashed to the back and the top of the carriage, one of which has burst open, spilling what looks to be several finely wrought dresses. It is difficult to tell in the shadows but they almost appear to be bodies until Alysa draws closer and finds they are simply elegant gowns.

As she approaches Alysa slings herself out of the saddle and begins gathering up what she can find of value, along with a few of the woman's belongings. She rummages through the remaining boxes looking for coins or jewels, anything that she can trade in some of the less lawful cities for supplies for herself and her horse. With one eye on the growing shadows behind her she sets about her work, gathering up what she can before it grows too dark as she is hesitant to leave the more appealing prize unattended lest someone less scrupulous come along and relieve her of it before she's had a chance to enjoy it.

Once she has filled her horse's saddlebags with supplies, coins and anything else of value she can find in the ruins of the carriage she hauls herself into the saddle and sets off back towards where she left the woman.

The woman did not lie about the treasures in the carriage. In addition to the gowns, themselves wrought of the finest silks and satin such as which Alysa herself hs never owned, there are still more clothes in the other boxes. Only one of them is locked and, after sufficient encouragement by Alysa and her lockpicks, reveals a lustrous violet velvet interior and a small jewelry box loaded with all manners of rings and other trinkets.

In the carriage itself, within three heavy strong boxes stored under the seats and also locked, are multiple leather satchels filled with gold and silver, all of it minted with the face of the Queen or rather a plain female face with a crown upon her brow. There is more here than Alysa can seen in her cumulative years. When she spent time with the other thieves who dwelt on the streets of Damora, and later, when she found herself hiding where she could during her time in Viktoron, often would she overhear them speak of what they called 'the big score'. Much as with other tales that the desperate and destitute will tell, it seemed like little more than wistful and wishful thinking and yet here it is.

Even so, for so much wealth to go missing would surely be noticed as would the absence of the man she had killed and maybe even his dead driver. There is that to consider but she is already in for more than a copper or a gold. If the man's wife could identify her, then surely Alysa would have even more stalkers, and better ones, than she does now.

When she returns, her horse now laden with purloined treasures and not a little encumbered by the weight of it all, Alysa shall see that the woman has apparently fled after all but then she stands up from where she had been crouched over the body of her husband and she turns away sharply. By the time Alysa reaches her, she can see the woman's shoulders heaving, as if with sobs and she has covered her face with the hem of her jet black shawl.

Alysa slings herself down from her horse and walks over to the woman, placing her hand on her shoulder reassuringly as the weight of what she's done settles on her own shoulders. Joath's murder was justified, the man had done wrong even by the law and she'd had no choice in the matter, but this was something different entirely.

She stayed silent, not sure that anything she could offer in terms of her words would make the situation any less difficult on the woman, but slowly led her over to the heavy-laden horse, poised to help her into the saddle. It is only then that the blonde bandit speaks.

"Come, M'lady, we must leave or the law shall be upon us sooner rather than later and while I fear no one I cannot promise they will be kind enough to spare you their suspicion".

The woman slowly turns her head, nodding. If there had been tears on her cheeks, she has wiped them away and she smiles once more, those dazzling eyes upon Alysa. 'I am surprised you returned. I thought your kind just took what they wanted and rode off into the night.'

She walks forward, staring at the horse for a moment before lifting her head up at Alysa, her full hips swaying sensuously in the gauzy flowing sable of her gown that almost looks as though it could be woven of shadows.

'I was not in jest with my offer, I shall be a wealthy widow now but it shall be very lonely. Could you not keep me company, if only for a short while? We were bound towards Gornmont to the Redclyffe Estate. If you return me there safely, you may take what you found in the carriage.'Her smile widens and her eyes shine brighter in the faint glow of the moon above. 'And if you stay, I shall find other ways to reward you.'

Alysa considers the woman's offer as she watches her. The sheer sight of the woman is enough to make the bandit bite her lip let alone the implications in her words. "Now now M'lady I am not entirely without honor and it would be cruel of me to leave such a beautiful prize sitting by roadside for any who might come alone with intentions far less noble than my own" she laughs, the soft sound ringing through the empty air around them. "I am certain that I can deliver you to Redclyffe Estate M'lady but then there is the issue of today's affair and I cannot exactly let you go knowing as much as you do about me, but perhaps we could work out some arrangement for I would hate to have to end such as beautiful life as yours over something as petty as what you may have seen today, but I shall consider your offer until that time comes"

For taking the life of this woman's husband, Alysa knows the Lawgivers would have condemned her to the shrieking caverns of Pandemonium where they claim the dead are driven eternally mad by the incessent screaming of damned souls. The good and just, she had been taught, go to Arcadia but, over time, she had heard of other destinations for the deceased. The savage Valleymen of the eastern mountains believe their souls are rewarded in a land called Valhalla while it is rumored that the mysterious and mythical denizens of Mystykar are descendants of otherworldly beings of Arborea. Having thus far avoided her own demise, Alysa may not be in a hurry to learn the truth behind these tales.

On the other hand, while this road is scarcely traveled, there is always the possibility that someone, anyone, might arrive at any moment, whether it be a caravan of quarrymen transporting ore and stone to Esclabor or an armed company of Oathkeepers from that same city of traders and merchants.

'How do I know you are a woman of your word and you shall not simply rob me, kill me or-' She pauses to favor Alysa with what is unmistakably a flirtatious grin. 'Ravish me once we arrive at Redclyffe?'

"M'lady if my intent was to rob or kill you would I have not done so at my earliest chance?" Alysa asks, leaving the third option unaddressed for the moment as she maneuvers her horse into woods with the woman still in her arms. "As for ravishing you, forgive me if I seem too blunt M'lady but I doubt you would put up much resistance" she purred in the woman's ear, reaching out an arm to steady the woman as her horse trots into the shadows. "And being the honorable woman that I am, should my assessment prove wrong, I would obviously leave you unharmed". She clicked her teeth to her horse and the animal sped up a little, heading back in the direction of their camp "until that time M'lady I assure you I shall behave completely honorably and leave you unmolested". She knows the woman would not have her own supplies and would therefore be relying on her at least until Redclyffe, whether Alysa would stay with her even a short time beyond that was yet to be seen.

Deftly climbing back onto the saddle in front of Alysa, still seated side saddle, the woman turns to face the blonde bandit and lightly slides her hand around the back of Alysa's head and moves close enough to let her lips brush against those of her captor.

'Neither would you, my beautiful thief,' she breathes softly, 'yet I wonder if you are only interested in gold or jewels?' She darts out her tongue flicks against Alysa's lips before she pivots her hips to keep an eye on the road ahead.'Ride hard, my sweet bandit,' she commands gently, 'and we shall be at Redclyffe before dawn. Then we shall see how unmolested you shall leave me.'

Alysa coxes her horse to go faster, holding the woman safely in her arms. If this is an elaborate trap laid by the lawgivers they certainly know their prey well as the bandit reaches over the woman's shoulder to turn her face back, kissing her softly.

It is clear the woman is hoping for more from the blonde woman who holds her and Alysa is certainly considering it, egged on by the woman's words and soft brush of her lips against her own. "M'lady, if you wish to remain unmolested I would suggest not tempting me into such...compromising situations with those luscious lips".

'Mira,' the woman says in a whisper that can somehow be heard over the rush of wind surrounding them. The horse is only able to manage a swift canter, not a full gallop, with his saddlebags so heavily weighed with ill gotten gains. She returns the kiss.

'Is it the same temptation that prompted you to take the life of my husband?' Mira inquires, moving her lips up along Alysa's jawline until she exhales a cool breath in the blonde woman's ear, her arms still wrapped around Alysa's neck. 'I suppose I'll have to take that risk.'

The road finally breaks free from the trees, leaving the forest behind as it climbs the steep hills that gradually rise to become mountains. Alysa has heard these referrred to as the Skydancer Peaks and they are said to separate Angalon from Mystykar and the Frightlands. Geography, however, might not be the most pressing matter on Alysa's mind.