#hypocriticalasshole

Hair so pale it was practically white beneath the grime hung in a limp curtain around the creature’s equally grimy, gaunt, and surprisingly human-looking face. There was a clump resting over its nose, fluttering out a little with each wheezed exhalation before settling back into position.

What had once been a proud, strong beast now looked, in a word, pitiful. Even with the threat its horns and claws posed, it would be far too weak to get up, much less attack her. The risk of contracting some sort of disease from the beast notwithstanding, she was actually rather safe from it. The manacles encircling its scarred limbs made doubly sure of that. Nevertheless, she settled into the furtherest and (barely) cleanest, corner, just to be safe. Once settled, she began the long, familiar process of pulling out the mishmash of items she kept in the numerous pockets sewn into her garments. This was hardly the first time she had been imprisoned after being ousted as a fraudulent peddler, and she was well prepared to both survive - thrive, even - and escape. Bandages, her prized set of lock picking tools, a couple of small-ish chunks of flint, a thin compact mirror, vials of the sparse handful of pre-made concoctions that actually helped cure mild ailments… There was even the tiny dagger she kept strapped high on her upper thigh for emergencies. Rosemary gave it an absent pat out of habit.

It was also in her favour that the guards had let her keep one of her smaller pouches of wares she kept dangling from her belt; they thought all the herbs, rocks and pieces of animal within it were useless, but they were wrong. Stinking Hellebore plants could induce vomiting and delirium due to the poisonous nature of the entire plant. Additionally, when decocted, the leaves of it made great flea and parasite repellent. The gluey coating of dictamnus plants was, in actuality, an excretion of volatile, highly flammable, oils; always handy for getting a fire going. She had a small gourd of the stuff in the bag. The barbed fangs of the solidus snake made painful, difficult to remove, stabbing weapons and still carried trace amounts of nerve-paralysing venom; enough to slow pursuers, but with the potential of getting their limbs to eventually lock up entirely for a good couple of hours if the victim exerted themselves long enough by, say, chasing her through and beyond the castle grounds. Powdered antler, when mixed with certain other components, made an incredibly gooey substance that was nigh difficult to free oneself from… The list of what she could do with her bag of “junk” went on. For now though, all she needed were the mirror and lock picks.

Rosemary carefully and methodically put the rest of the items she’d pulled out back into their respective pockets and tied the drawstring of the bag up semi-loose for easy access without risking a spillage of items. The mirror was stacked on top of the cloth bundle containing the lock picks in one hand. She pushed herself up off the stone floor then dusted her rear off with her free hand, hardly sparing the half-dead creature a glance as she strode towards the door. Though she did continue to give it a wide, cautious, berth. Once the small journey was completed, she knelt by the door, flipping open the metal compact and sliding half of the mirrored side under the door. She craned her head sideways, squinting critically down at the image she was presented, and slowly slid the mirror from one side of the door to the other.

No guards, Rosemary mused. They must not have been very worried about her or the creature escaping. That was carelessly stupid of them. A smirk curled at the corners of her lips. So much the better.

Rosemary straightened as she pulled the compact back out and snapped it shut. It was tucked back into its pocket, snug and secure, before the cloth bundle of lock picks was laid gently, almost reverently, over her knees. She gave the lock a quick glance and immediately selected a pair of the smaller sets of pins. The bundle was loosely wrapped back up and laid aside so she could get to work without obstruction. Both pins went in, and she began the familiar process of slowly moving the pins around to find the sweet spots that would coax the door open and grant her sweet, sweet freedom.