Searching High and Low - Part 2 (Day 4, Early Afternoon)

OOC: Joint Post from Winters, Wandering Wolf and Sail

Yazmina had been … less than cooperative. A smashed vase, a broken chair and three escape attempts later and they had moved her into a more remote location. To be Yazmina was no warrior women but much to her satisfaction she had been more or let wrangling angry cat. Bitch had claws so she made them pay for every inch! So here she was … a cuff on her ankle fettered to the wall.

The accommodation where rather simple and drafty in spite of the fire. The companion was dressed warmly and sensibly, wrapped in a blanket for good measure. Yaz was not one to give up but she was patient and a well educated women. So like every strategist wrote she plotted and bided her time and waited.

So imagine her surprise at the sudden windfall of a feminin voice outside her door! A NUN to boot!

Yaz nearly fell out of her chair her tablet clattering on the floor. “Here! Help! Sister!” The companion yelled stretching the chain as close to the door as she could get.

A voice inside! It didn’t sound like Gill or Haddie, but that didn’t matter. Her slender hands tugged hard on the handle, willing it to give way. It was a rudimentary clasp lock, a single iron rod barring the door from the inside. Due to either being intentionally locked or lack of use Ly couldn’t force the rod mechanism to raise. After a moment of struggling Lyen looked to Dorian to see if he may have another idea of how to get through the door.

“Hold on, we’re coming in!” she called through the door. “Dorian, any ideas?”

Adler tried the latch, forcing the door to rattle as he worked it. “Nothin’ like brute force,” he finally said. The medic lifted a leg. He kicked hard, slamming the boot heel into the simple lock. Once...twice...three times he kicked. The lock remained stubbornly in place, but the door planking was collapsing from it’s worn frame by the last heel strike. “One...more,” he grunted, crashing into the splintered door with a shoulder. This time, the fractured entry gave way, splintered remnants swinging noisily open on rusted hinges. The persistent lock, however, remained fixed in the jam.

“Good hardware,” Adler said absently as Lyen lead the way into the cabin.

Yazmina back away from the door as she hear boots heel striking the door. From her side she could plainly see the latch would outlask the frame! The loud clatter of the hinges tearing off and the broken door was louder than she expected when it hit the floor.

She couldt help but give a sigh of relief as she saw the sister and … her … friend? Framing the entrance. She didn’t care she was seizing the opportunity! “Sweet merciful budda!” She sighed under her breath. This nightmare was almost over!

The cabin inside was nicer than the outside but still rather simple and bare bones. It only make Yazmina elegance contrast more starkly. “Thank goodness … I’m being held hostage here.” She explained. “I might have gotten out sooner exect ... “ she wave the chain that snaked from her her foot to the wall. “... I am somewhat tethered.”

Ly took in the room, Dorian on her heels. The woman she’d heard was indeed shackled to the cabin, but she didn’t quite know what to make of her.

“So it would seem,” he nodded, studying the chain’s base. The ankle from which it hung was quite lovely as it disappeared into an elaborate, yet tastefully apportioned gown. The woman was exotic, enticing...and well in control of the message she exuded. “Companion, per chance?” he asked as he pulled his eyes once more to the study of her freedom.

Yazmina gave a wry smile and chuckled. “That obvious?”

Dorian smirked. “Companions and nuns of her order,” he replied as he hiked a thumb toward Lyen. “Most graceful creatures in tha ‘verse. Ah’m Dorian,” he introduced himself. “She’s Sistah Lyen. Not tah be ovahly nosy, but what is it lands yah chained up in the middle of nowhere?”

As she answered, he remembered the tools on the front porch. He excused himself, stepping out to reconnoiter what they had with which to set her free.

Though the nun didn’t have any particular reason to distrust anyone, she found Dorian’s questions interesting in the least. “Who would do such a thing?” She was worried that whomever had done this could have done the same to Haddie and Gill.

“Funny story. My former client thinks we are soulmates. So I kindly rejected that notion as gently as I could. Then I rejected less kindly and I was about book passage off planet when …” Yaz waved at the cabin. “... he dove into the deep end of a pool with no water.” She said dryly.

“Yazmina.” She said introducing herself to her rescuers.

Dorian returned with what passed for tools...a rusty pry bar, a woodchopping axe, and a few hand tools of questionable use. He crossed the room toward the mounting eye that held the chain fast. “Well, Miss Yazmina,” the medic said, “unless yah know of a key fah tha lock on that cuff, we’re gonna have tah do a little work.” After jamming the pry bar under the eye’s base, he used the axe as a hammer to drive the bar more deeply. Dorian grabbed the pry bar. Pressing a bootheel to the wall for leverage, he began to haul upon the source of the woman’s entrapment.

“Oh I know where the key is and if I tell you you might project vomit.” Yaz said with an eye role as she watched the man work. The wood groaning and cracking under his labor Yazmina couldn’t help but feel butterfly at her impending freedom.

After a moment’s incredulity over the fact she knew the whereabouts of a key, Dorian resumed heaving on the bar. ‘Considerin’ tha next step involves me tryin tah break tha chain with that axe, Ah’d suggest yah run tha risk with mah gag reflex. Where is tha key?” he asked.

“In my ‘soulmate’s’ pocket. You know, next to his heart followed by awful, awful, limericks about future children and such.” She said pinching the bridge of her nose.

He cocked an eyebrow. After a glance shard with Lyen, Dorian gave one final heave on the pry bar. The eye and it’s threaded bolts finally tore free of the wall with a splintering crash. “Ah can’t take all tha chain,” he said as he tested the weight of the plump metal links, “but we might manage tah take a few feet off...make tha ride less uncomfortable. Which begs tha question...where we takin’ yah, ma’am?”

“I can make it work.” She winked. “Back to town. I have bone to pick … and lock. Which also begs the question. What are you and a NUN doing out here?” She asked

It was providential that they had found this cabin in the woods, but Yazmina’s question jogged Ly to their task at hand. “We’re searching for two lost children, a boy about fifteen and a quiet girl of nine. We’ve been searching since last night.” Her face grew sober. “I’m sorry to hear the circumstances which brought you here, but if you can delay, we really must keep looking for Gill and Haddie.”

“His kids?” Yaz said ticking her head to the kind gentleman working on shortening the chain. “I haven’t seen or heard much but of course my business can wait. I’m not chained to a wall anymore so color me thrilled!”
“We thank yah patience,” the Doc said as he eyed the run down little table. Not perfect, he thought of the situation, but it beats mah performin’ a field amputation. He pulled the table to the center of the room, then placed a single chair alongside it. “Miss Yazmina,” Dorian said to the released hostage, “kindly place yah bound foot on tha seat.”

Once the Companion….and was she ever stunning….lifted her foot into place, Dorian laid the chain across the tabletop. “Now, Sistah,” he regarded his friend and confidant, “if yah’ll grab hold an’ pull it tight. Just taut,” he said to both women, “so it won’t jump around when Ah strike. It’s not a tug of war.”

"Alright Mister Dorian. We fine ladies await your Herculean strike!" Yaz said the Nun helping keep the chain taut.

“Ah wouldn’t,” the medic quipped. “If yah knew how many years it was since Ah swung an axe.”
As both women stretched the chain across the table, Dorian set the blade upon his intended target. “Just one question, Miss Yazmina,” Dorian lifted the blade high over his head. As he swung, it grazed the ceiling, coming down to bounce awkwardly from a spot some good ten inches from his goal.

“Try that again,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Yah mentioned a ‘soulmate.’ Where is he just now? Is he liable tah return?” Adler swung again. This time, he was a good deal closer, but his self conscious overcorrection caused the blade to once again bounce harmlessly from the chain.
“Robust,” he said, mildly flustered with his lack of success.

“Dorian,” Lyen said, “May I?” As the axe changed hands Lyen steadied the blade on the chain link. Ten years in the monastery had developed many talents, as time was no object. Zen archery had been one that Lyen took to gleefully (as gleefully as a nun could). With a breath out, visualizing her target, she opened herself to the ‘Verse. Raising the blade, she held the tail of the handle before dropping in a swift strike. The link gave up the ghost and Yazmina was free of the extra shackles.

Ly rested the axe head on the ground with a serene smile on her face.

Dorian blinked. He looked at Lyen. He looked at the axe. He looked at the cleanly split chain. He looked at Lyen once more. “Remind me,” he said at last, “tah nevah leave tha boat without yah.” As Yazmina collected herself, he stepped to the shattered doorway. “Shall we?” he asked, inviting the pair to exit for the waiting horses. “Miss Yazmina,” he politely acknowledged her as she stepped through to freedom. However, the quiet mirth in Lyen’s eyes could not go unobserved. “Sistah Borden…”

“What?” Ly asked incredulously, “When you’re a nun there’s plenty of time to learn the art of Zen archery. I’d say the same basic principles apply,” she added, nodding.

“Sister. I am impressed.” Yaz said with a nod of approval. “Yes, let us go find the lost children!”

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