His backstory

He wore soft boots for a reason. While some may have thought it to be some kind of fashion statement, in truth, it was to allow him to sneak up on unsuspecting prey, like the girl he'd first noticed some months back when visiting the port. He'd decided then that he would have her, but had taken the time and effort to slip coin to his contacts to keep tabs on and learn about the girl in between visits. Two times since he had come, to trade in his wares, but mostly, to see what news there was of the flower he'd been having tracked and stalked. A 'random' encounter here, someone just happening to be walking in the same direction as she was going home at night there, it didn't take long for Davio's eyes and ears to ascertain where the girl lived, what she tended to do with her days, whom she served if anyone, what she liked or disliked either through casual conversations or intentional eavesdropping.

His people ranged from high caste to low, and he'd garnered all he needed by the time he had come prepared to steel away his beauty from the Genesian Port. By the time she had realized that anyone was there, he was standing in her shadow with that wolfish grin he so often wore. Not a word had been spoken to her, she simply felt strong arms envelop her, from a figure nearly twice her size. One gloved hand clamped over her mouth holding a rag dampened with capture scent, while another came around to press drawn steel in against her core, just between the ribs at a lethal angle should pressure be applied. The sharp tip of a main gauche warning her with its presence to be still. His prey might tremble deliciously, and the man holding her fast would whisper in her ear. "Shhhh...."

But his antics were intentional to frighten her, he'd planned all along to startle her, that she might gasp in surprise, or inhale deeply in preparation to belt out a scream. But it would take only those ihns for the capture scent to cause her to feel faint and collapse into her captor's arms. When she awoke, she found herself rocking gently, lying on a bed of straw, the wood work of the room and the port holes allowing her the realization that she must have on board a ship. She had been stripped, bathed, and left wearing only a band of iron around her neck, locked to a heavy chain that extended some 15 feet in any direction. There was a central mast around which the other end of the heavy iron chain was locked.

Near by was a bucket, and two bowls. One with water, while the other was empty. She couldn't be sure just how much time had passed, but eventually, she heard the creaking hinges of a door at the top of a set of stairs. As she looked, she would see a man descending down into the room, in one hand he carried a plate, and piled high upon it were pieces of fruit, small wedges of verr and bosk cheese, thick cut slices of black bread with butter smeared over them, and the figure took a seat within reach of her, though it would require her to almost go to the end of her chain. He picked up a larma slice, laying a piece of cheese over it, taking a bite, seeming to rather enjoy the beginnings of his meal. It was time to begin breaking his new plaything...