The Keep

The hut was a mess. Blood coated the cluttered floor where books and valuable junk lay strewn and a petite orc girl lay in the middle of it, a massive orc towering over her, shouting obscenities and frothing at the mouth. She couldn't hear his words for the blood in her ears and the pressure on her forehead, her vision being blocked by his leather clad foot.

Her expensive clothing was ripped in places, and she was shuddering violently, crying out in pain with every loud bellow and him stepping on her head.

It was time to escape.

--

Larkta was a lady, at heart. Her parents were clothing merchants who, although not rich, had gotten her accustomed to formal clothing and books bound in leather. When she arrived late from curfew one night on the arm of a dashing orc shaman, dressed in a fine suit, she figured they would forgive. But there was something about him they didn't trust, and it soon became a daily point of argument for the three, until they finally gave her the ultimatum; leave him, or we won't buy you any more pretty things.

She was young, and in love, and being absolutely spoiled by her new suitor, so it's no trouble to guess who she turned to.

--

He collapsed next to her in a drunken stupor, drooling and growling in his sleep, thrashing violently. Still sobbing quietly in pain, she grabbed a few of the nicest things she could find, a few other necessities and all of the gold she could find, sneaking out to the black night.

She ran as best she could, with a strong limp, to the nearby Zeppelin, breaking down in tears as it arrived. She sat in the bottom cabin, trying to use her own tears and some scraps of material to wipe the blood from her face. Moments, or it could have been days, passed as she wandered through the Undercity, seeking aid but finding none. The forsaken barely glanced at the broken orc, mumbling incoherently.

Eventually, however, she stumbled to the translocator that lead to Silvermoon and falling inside she was quickly given aid.

For days, she slept, her eyes moving rapidly below her lids as the thrashed and cried out.

When she awoke, her first instinct was to hide.

--

So she trained. She learned to stick to the shadows and hide, to tread lightly, to survive.

But she was a lady at heart, there was no mistaking that. She soon learned which gullible people in the inns of Silvermoon could be robbed without noticing, and just how drunk each of them had to be for her hand to go unnoticed flicking into their robes. Soon enough, she had her own small wardrobe of expensive clothing.

Larkta did legal work as well, of course, taking and sewing leather scraps for those in need, crafting herself some of her own work outfits.

It was because of her legal career that introduced her to Sir Lodran.