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[Lydia Marcella]

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Lydia entered the room carefully, glancing about. It was a familiar place, she'd been there several times. Or at least, this time she found herself not on the floor, writhing in extreme pain, hallucinating. She turned to the man, tilting her head carefully. "Why did you ask me here?" she said, sizing him up. She had little patience, and this man was trying it. She had more important things to do, and one of those, finding her love.

Artisan grimaced for a moment, pausing as he called out for the woman, "Hey, Hey lady!" She fit the appearance, and most of what he could remember. Artisan glanced down at his hands, preparing himself for what was about to occur.

She turned her eyes sharply on him, nearly pulling apart his appearance, her hands rather clenched. "What....did you ask me here, for?"

"He told me to bring you a gift, but you have to turn around and wait for it, and I have to drag it in here from the next room." Artisan played the role to the best of his ability, faking disdain for the labor, he watched her turn. Taking a few steps back, he once again forwarded the cover, opening the door with a slightly lean. Taking the time this had allotted him, he drew a bola and made aim for her legs, with a single to gain momentum, on the next revolution he cast it into the hands of chance, at the ankles of the somewhat unfamiliar woman.

She fell to the floor with a thud, surprised by the sudden movements. She glanced back at him, growling. "What in 'ell are you doing?!" she yelled, her hands moving forward, scratching over the floor as she tried to stand up.

Nh'bdy had never gotten around to teaching the gentle crafter the martial portion of his knowledge, but he knew enough to tie a good knot, and that was all it would take to subdue her. Moving hastily, Artisan grabbed a nearby cord, moved to her, and placed his knee on the struggling woman's back, grasping her hands, attempting to bind them.

She growled sharply, thrashing her body, tossing him onto the table with a loud crack to his back. Swiftly, she stood, tossing the bola from her ankles, before making her pounce. She landed agilely over him, her long, slender nails digging instantly into his shoulders. "What do you think your doing?"

Artisan's lack of combat experience was suddenly glaringly obvious, he spoke in a mix of pained yells and babbling. The entire attempt at a cohesive thought coming out in one sentence. "I'm sorry he told me to OW HOW'D YOU GET PAST MY MAIL? Told me, h-OW-he told me I had to keep you bound before I could give you the news he left!! AAAH! Get off!!!!"

She pounced backwards instinctively, landing gracefully on her feet. "What news?"

Artisan pointed to a pair of freshly crafted, rather bulky, manacles. "He said you had to bind yourself before I could tell you..he made me promise."

She sighed. She was desperate at this point, for any news of him. "Is it that bad?"" she asked, knowing that at the current point in time, she could only hope for the worst. She sat on the nearby bed, shackling herself to the bottom of it. "spill it."

Artisan hadn't realized it, but this woman scared him. He'd scared him, and everything he left was rigged to explode or poison, so he'd been following the will, but worst of all, he suddenly realized the faceless insane man that had taken him in was dead, and he was alone. The tears of pain were replaced by tears of mourn and fright, babbling incoherently about subjects ranging from love and remorse for a hidden love. The forgotten assets and loose ends that a counter-governmental organization produces when it is suddenly taken by the head, and the complexities of an unknown partnership that had been quelled so suddenly, the manic speech ended with another string of nonsense. "And his head was missing and these birds! These birds watched over it and it looked stabbed and I think his mask exploded! Atleast he took a few with him! It says that, he assumed he would take them! I don't understand and please don't kill me lady..oh..oh no! Don't bite me I'm sorry he made me promise!!!!"

She growled harshly in reply. "Shut up and deliver the bloody message or I WILL RIP you apart." she stared at him, her cold eyes not moving. It was obvious she meant business, and if he was to try her patience, she would torture him until he split the entirety of the message that he was to deliver. "At LEAST? He took a few with him? Your more cold hearted than I am,"

"I'm sorry lady..I know it's rough..he meant a lot to me, a lot to all of us and he sort of left us here. Alone. Everyone is heart-broken, but it's my task to keep you alive. He mad me promise."

"And what do you think he meant to me? He was the only thing that kept me tied to this, ridiculous world, he gave me reason to continue on. Quite frankly, I would rather, be dead."

Artisan sighed, gathering the items he'd brought with him, recalled Nh'bdy's written word, recalled the extravagant his speaking voice when he had a plan "Make sure she's tied down or she'll kill you. And make sure you have a funnel, force feed her for awhile, she's stubborn, Ooh! Ooh! And put a touch of garlic on her bindings so she can't gnaw through her shackles like a coyote. You never know if I'm dead or not, so..well..Ooh! And put a damp cloth over her nose and mouth so the garlic doesn't make her twitch. Goodluck Arty, see you around."

At some point, Artisan had forced her onto her back, chaining her wrists to the bed frame. To prevent her from hurting herself.. He was still in the room, she knew. She could hear his heart beat. Yet, there were words, other words, whispered sweetly by Nh'bdy's own voice, within her own ear.

My dearest Lydia

Well, by now you've either killed Artisan and found his letter, or you've been tied to something. I'm sorry it has to be like this dear, but I can't let you go off and kill yourself for no reason. The less you morn, do not taste of the wine before it has aged properly, it will be bitter. In time, I promise you only the sweet. Audie.
Yours truly,
Seth Freeman.