(('Ardanian' is a good term for someone from Ardany. Noxan works for Noxus. I'm still working out Xiang-Bao and Banti.))

Aleksandra turned to the door as it swung open, falling into a half-crouch instinctively, her muscles tense. Whomever walked through that door had purchased her for obviously deviant reasons, and she had to be prepared to defend herself. To her absolute dismay, it was a man easily twice her size, and no doubt much stronger than her. She'd have to stun him and run instead of actually fighting. But as he approached, she couldn't see any sign that he was about to molest her. No leering grin or smirk, no lecherous look in his eye. What she did see was concealed anger, determination. And before she could reply to him, she was in the air, wriggling around and cursing in her native tongue. She was about to give him a mouthful when suddenly, she found she could breathe quite a bit less than before.

Immediately, her hands were on his wrist, but she held herself back from hitting the pressure point that would numb his hand. She couldn't let him know she was a fighter, since he already thought she was a spy. And harming him in any way was a death sentence, and that was if she was lucky. So she played the weak act, grabbing at his wrist with a fear that she didn't have to pretend at. "Please, your Grace. I'm not a spy. I'm a storyteller and a seamstress." Thank the Saints that both of those things were true. When she was waiting for contracts or had no leads, she made money by telling stories in taverns, mostly the ones about herself, the Fourth Devil as people liked to call her. Of course, no one knew it was the Devil herself telling the stories. She liked adding fuel to the ever-growing mix of rumors on what she looked like and why she hunted criminals. And as a seamstress, she made cloaks for hunters that broke the shape of the wearer into shadows. She'd learned the technique from a man in Genta who called it camouflage. "I've been in Noxus for two years, your Grace. I figured it was time to head home to see my family. My father could be anyone, seeing as my mother worked in a brothel. I just wanted to go home and see my Nan." She let tears well up in her eyes.