Isolde yawned and stretched out comfortably on the narrow bed. Military stock, to be sure, but it was warm, firm but comfortable, and the blankets were bloody well better then the scraps of furs she had been scrabbling about herself for the last few weeks. The thought caused a scowl to cross her face.
Bloody, bloody Stormwind!
She wasn’t one to let tragedy get her down, no sir, but she was damn well going to nurse this grudge for as long as she could. Posh bastards, where did they get off? Acting like the saviours of the whole blasted world but when they had to deal with the down and dirty they were as much buggers as the rest of ’em. Grumbles and growls rumbled through the bunk room as she ran through the memories, as she had so often done before.
A stone room, a series of benches, some heavy chains. She could and did protest and deny any concern for her…affliction, as they had so delicately put it, but it still meant the heaviest iron shackles the Guard could muster up. She’d be more pissed if the sight of her slight human form dwarfed, ha, by the thick clasps weren’t so ridiculous.
“So. Do you understand why you are here, miss?”
“Bloody well right, you stuck up black’eart. Too bleedin’ scared of a wee lass to let me go.” She scowled at the captain scratching away at something behind his desk. He glanced up briefly and frowned, then went back to writing.
“You stand accused of assault, verbal and physical, including grievous bodily harm, inciting a riot…”
“The ‘ells ya say!” She tried to stand in outrage, the length of the chains preventing it rather then their weight. “That’s a bloody lie! ‘e’s the one who…”
“Assaulting a member of the Stormwind City guard whilst he was in performance of his duties…”
“Oh, horseshite!” Her shout held the note of a barely restrained growl. “That bloody gawl! Is that what they’re callin’ it now? Wot ‘e told ya then, huh? Can’t be besmirchin’ ‘is fine record, nevermind ‘is old lady is doin’ that just fine for ‘im now she knows!”
The captain laid down his pen and finally reacted, staring with a frigid and unkind calm at the young lady before him. “Guardsman Renson is a guard in good standing, while you are a refugee street rat who cannot express proper gratitude for all that Stormwind has done for your…kind.”
She settled, but the anger was merely at low, dangerous simmer. “My kind, eh wot?”
“Indeed. Your claims of adultery and indecent behaviour on behalf of Guardsman Renson, as well as…” He looked down, scanning his notes. “Drinking while on duty and perjury, are in my good judgement, false and based on a despicable desire to save your own skin. However, do to your age and apparent eagerness to get out of trouble, I am inclined to show you some mercy.”
Isolde gaped at him a moment longer. Shock overrode anger at the smug expression crossing the captain’s face. She’d never before thought the Stormwind lot all that bad, no more so then anyone else, but now… they were protecting their own, and surprise, taking the word of some “fine, upstanding officer” over hers. Because who’d believe a street rat accused of whoring and fighting?
“You can spend years in prison, as you deserve, or be bound in service to the Navy, or, given your particular skill set, serve at his Majesty’s pleasure in the Northern Army.”
“The hells ya say…!”