Pryene matched Wulfric glare for glare. "First. Despite what you seem to think, I am not an old hand at this whole magic thing. I only discovered my power a few days ago, and most of the time since then I've spent in a mage collar or running for my life or both. I haven't exactly had much time to experiment," she hissed. "Second. I spent years distancing myself and my reputation from my sister. If you are right and your ex-employer was bluffing, I'd rather not ruin all that work by announcing my story on the street!"

Pyrene glared at him an instant longer, then exhaled forcefully, some of the tension leaving her body. Her gaze turned inward, and she shivered unconsciously as she spoke. "Besides, it's a long story, and one I haven't told before. We'll probably both need to sit down by the time I'm done."

Pyrene's eyes refocused and the trembling stopped as she firmly pressed Wulfric's cloth-wrapped sword into his hands. "You left this behind. Not that it looked like you needed it, wounded shoulder or no," she added dryly. "Now, if you don't want to go back to the room that's fine. Pick any place that you are comfortable sitting with me that we can be relatively certain of not being overheard."

[[OOC: I'm assuming Wulfric goes along with this, out of curiousity if nothing else.]]

When they were both comfortably seated, Pyrene turned to Wulfric with businesslike briskness. "First let me see what I can do for your shoulder," she directed, barely waiting for his approval before beginning. She removed the crude bandage with surprising gentleness, hissing slightly but not otherwise reacting to the sight of the raw, inflamed flesh. Carefully she examined the wound, making sure no loose threads or bits of debris remained behind. When at last she was satisfied that the area was clean, she placed one hand on the solid flesh on either side of the wound.

"What I'm about to do is accellerate your natural healing, like I did with your hippogryph before. I suspect that healing this will take most or all of my magical reserves, so at least you can be certain that I'm not charming you when I tell you my tale afterward," she explained. Without waiting for a response, she focused her attention on the heat under her palms, the same steady life-flame that had pulsed in the hippogryph. No... no, not quite the same. This one burned lower, yet hotter. Nevertheless, it behaved as before, lapping slowly at the edges of the wound and rebuilding rather than consuming. As before, Pyrene addressed the flame, silently offering power with which to rebuild.

This time there was a hesitation, a brief moment in which Pyrene knew that she had somehow offered the choice to Wulfric himself. Slowly, then with increasing speed, the power flowed from Pyrene into the living flame as he accepted her aid. Pyrene's consciousness flowed with it, maintaining the delicate web of magic and flame necessary for the healing.

An instant or an eternity later, she removed her hands and half fell against her back rest, gazing with satisfaction at the tender pink flesh that had taken the place of the raw wound she had last seen. "There," she said, tiredly but with satisfaction. "Now that that is taken care of..." With a visible effort, Pyrene sat up perfectly straight. "I'll tell you the whole messy story. I'll warn you, much of it is unpleasant, and most of it I've never told anyone before. Once I get started I probably won't stop, but I'll answer your questions at the end."

[[OOC: If Wulfric wants to change venues or ask questions here, Pyrene will deal with that before starting in on her tale.]]

"Once upon a time," Pyrene began, twisting her mouth wryly, "there was a small girl who could not remember any life but the one she lived with her mother in an elegent bordello. She secretly observed the customers by night, learned self-defense during the day, and was generally pampered by all her "aunts." When her half-sister was born, the midwife told the little girl, who was around ten summers, that she must take good care of little Ariella, and the girl took this charge very seriously. The small family lived an odd but happy life like this for another three winters, before a fire destroyed the bordello and forced them onto the street.

"The girl took Ariella with her to wander the city, sometimes begging, sometimes fighting other street children for edible scraps of garbage. Meanwhile their mother took what work she could, but always ended up falling back on her previous trade to keep a crude roof over all their heads and a bit of food on the table for supper each night. By the end of the second summer, she had started taking clients almost every night, trying to pay the ever rising rent and feed two growing daughters. The girl tried to help, but work was scarse and no one would hire a woman with a child in tow, so she started stealing food for herself and Ariella during the day."

Pyrene took a deep breath and averted her eyes from Wulfric's slightly. "One night the sisters came home to find their mother with a client. This wasn't totally unusual, but what was unusual was that he didn't get angry at the interruption. Instead he took one look at the girl and declared that he'd much rather have young fresh meat than a tired old whore. The mother refused, so he hit her in the face. She reeled, then hit him back, ordering her daughters to run. The girl saw that there was no way to get past them, to the door, without being caught, so she took Ariella and hid in the cupboard that would have held their food, if there had been any left, while the man was distracted fighting the mother.

"The man was too drunk and too angry to realize that the girl had not gotten away. He didn't even look for her. Instead he started hurting the mother. The girl covered Ariella's ears so that she would not hear their mother scream, and turned Ariella's face away from the crack in the cupboard door. Eventually the screams became whimpers, and then pained moans, and then there was no sound but the dull thudding of the man's fists. Later the girl found that he had cut the mother's throat, but she was already dead, beaten beyond identifiability, when he did so."

Pyrene cleared her throat and swiped at the tears streaming down her face as if only just noticing them, shaking her head slightly. "When at last the man was gone, the girl took Ariella out of the house, vowing that Ariella would never need to live the life their mother had lived. She found a priest who helped her get Ariella adopted by a kind, childless couple. For the next several years she took up her mother's trade, and whenever she could she sent money to Ariella's new family. She moved frequently, changing her name each time, trying to make sure that Ariella and her adoptive parents never knew where the money came from. She wanted no hint of scandal to touch Ariella.

"One day, shortly after the girl had taken up the name Pyrene, she was approached by a group of young nobles who said they wanted to hire her as a graduation present for a classmate. The girl agreed readily, because Ariella was ill with the Black Fever, and even knowing she could never raise the money for medicine in time, she was desperate to do something to help her little sister. She did her best to focus on her job that evening, deflecting Wulfric Terman's questions about herself with practiced ease. On an impulse, she stole his expensive uniform, reasoning that he could easily buy another, and sold it at a price that allowed her to both send Ariella the expensive medicine and pay her rent for the month.

"Still calling herself Pyrene, the girl began targetting wealthy men and taking their purses as well as their clothes. She found that, when she put her mind to it, she could convince any man she chose to hire her. Only much later did she realize she was charming them into her bed with more than her good looks. She became infamous as the Temptress, and soon she didn't need her charms anymore, as her victims sought her out - with full knowledge of the price she claimed for a night's pleasure, no less.

"Then the girl's luck ran out. She took a client, the eldest son of a local noble, who attempted to do to the girl much what had been done to her mother. When the girl tried to escape, he pulled a knife on her. There was a struggle, and somehow in the confusion the blade nicked one of the big veins in the man's throat. By the time the girl realized what had happened, it was too late. She knew that no one would believe it was self-defense, not with a noble dead and no other witnesses. So she ran. Soon enough she was caught and a brief trial was held. She was infamous, and the court wizard started squawking about her being a powerful sorceress, so she was sentenced to Ironheart.

"In Ironheart she was put in the Prism, a crystal prison that leaves the body intact but torments the mind with endless nightmares as vivid as reality. For three months she saw Ariella subjected to every torment and degredation that the girl had tried to spare her from, over and over, in endless combinations that always ended with Ariella dead, or broken by pain and suffering. Needless to say, when there was a chance to escape, the girl took it."

Pyrene hesitated, then continued, switching out of her third person description now that she was past the most painful parts of her tale. "I'll spare you the details of the escape, but suffice to say that I managed it. I discovered my magic shortly after I got out of the Prism, when my mage collar activated for the first time, but I didn't have a chance to use my magic until I was outside the prison walls."

Meeting Wulfric's eyes squarely, she wordlessly dared him to judge her as she finished. "I killed four more men during my escape. Two of them were nobles and mages, the sons of Duke Volesin. And yet of the five lives I have taken, I regret only one. You were correct, Wulfric. I do bear death and destruction with me. I will not impose them on you if you choose to leave."

Her tale ended, Pyrene closed her eyes and sighed, tension draining out of her at last as she sat back and murmured one last thing under her breath, clearly not meant for Wulfric's ears. "I hope you'll stay."