A Princess, a Knight, and an Assassin Walk Into a Tavern...

Clarity

Struck by the implications of what she'd told Tollie on the balcony, she suddenly found she had a lot to ponder. She left Tollie abruptly with a shake of her head, and grabbed a flagon of something close by, and with a glare to the room in general, headed outside to the cliff face.

Her head wasn't clear, but she had heard her words to Tollie, and they were truth as far as she could tell. She sat down dangling her legs over the side, taking drinks from the cup at her side. She was just too much of a chicken to follow her own advice. If she was as sage as she had sounded, and intimacy was a choice...then she had a choice to make. Another forceful drink from the flagon. Hawke was offering something she wasn't even sure she wanted. He was offering his touch, and had given it with no strings attached as far as she could see. If she was THAT sort of person she could take advantage of an offering like that. She rolled her eyes to herself. He was just giving it freely.

She slammed her cup down on the rocks. But what sort of proposition was it?! What exactly was he proposing? She tried to take a deep breath. She was over thinking it. He was just a man, who was touching her. There were no promises. If she decided to put that part of herself out there. Decided to make this intimacy choice...she would be offering herself up, and there were no promises. He could either take or reject what she had to offer, and that made her feel vulnerable and exposed. She threw the flagon over the cliff. Curse men.... She couldn't know if this is what she wanted. She was in no position to know...but she was no coward.

She hopped to her feet, then, which was unadvisable because of her exhaustion and intoxication, and she swayed on the edge uncertainly for a moment. Clarity soon recovered her footing and headed off into the night.

She paused for a moment back in the ship at the sight of Hawke sleeping drunkenly and soundly. He smiled in his sleep and snorted messily. She couldn't help the small smile that found its way onto her face, and she shook her head, still scared of her decision. She just pulled off her prosthetic gingerly, and settled on the next hammock over, sighing loudly in the silence.

The next day was not the ideal day to put anything into action. The breakfast was full of people holding their heads, slumped over especially bad gruel. Cookie – the cook - was feeling spiteful, as he had not been invited on their late and drunk night out, so the gruel was especially bad. Hawke was the most pitiful, holding his head in his hands, face an inch from the gruel, making a sad whimper every time one of the spiteful crew mates decided to barge in on the hungover members of their group with very LOUD comments. She had simply sat down beside him, and gave him the sugar meant for her gruel.

Soon afterward they were readying for an attack they weren't certain was going to come, but it did come, so she supposed all the prep time was worth it.

She stuck to stealth attacks, catching people in the back when they were distracted. Distraction is what Hawke was good at. He had a gigantic axe now, which looked exactly like the Raider's own axes, one could only guess whether it was a gift or he stole it, and was using all of his massive stature to push people over the edge, which was understandably very distracting. Clarity saw something on the next ship over which caused HER to be distracted. There was a man in a long blue coat, very fine, with a long grey wig. He was looking into a spyglass and pointing at Tollie.

Clarity didn't like the look of that one bit. In a split second she killed the two men closest to her, and as swiftly as possible crossed the boards that had allowed the soldiers to board their ship to begin with. She cast a quick look around, finding the man she wanted and zeroing in on him. Oh, there were those who tried to stop her advance. She bounded around and sliced through a couple of them, then took a running leap to reach the second balcony of the ship, where the Captain's quarters were. The alarm hadn't gone up that she was onboard yet, but the man had been hustled into and locked inside the Cabin. As she was pulling herself up, she felt a tug on her leg, but simply jabbed her prosthetic backward, felt a squelch as it connected with flesh, and the hand around her ankle dropped.