Private Tales Bearly Legal

[Florence]

Seedy taverns such as the Kneeling Cadaver were always places of relative quiet to Florence. It meant that The Vessel could get some of the rest it needed and it also meant that the passengers it carried with it at the time was not as likely to cause a stir. The more its nerves twisted around in its shell, and the more spirits that were present, the more likely it was that they would be looking at picking up another passenger despite experiencing a capacity that was pushing past the limits of what it could deal with.

Florence still clamored for the days when she was in full control of her own body, as distant and muddied as those memories had become. She had no memory of who she even was or what she did, but she knew that she had been something. This hollowness inside and lack of purpose without her fellow passengers made for an uncomfortably cold and withering sensation and she had since given up all hope that it would ever happen. Acting a vessel for others had become her purpose, and even if she dreaded her existence she could still find joy in the closure she was able to bring others. At least sometimes.

But to explain this to others was not easy, and in some cases not even possible. Branded as an undead was no way to live yet it was the only descriptor one could seemingly use to describe what had become of her old body. She wasn't dead, she wasn't alive, it was simply as if she existed as a vessel for the many and such a life often that meant she picked up a similar lifestyle that pushed the boundaries of what she had thought her body had become even further. Most of the time that meant mercenary work, and most of the time it meant the work that nobody else seemed to pick up.

This was not one of those jobs.

The vessel pulled a flier from someone seeking aid from a board and set off to find the contractor. Someone named Emeria looking to have someone else 'found.'

It wasn't morally right sometimes, but it made them the money they needed.

 

[Emeria]

Emeria had quickly learn that she was getting nowhere like this. Gemaudelene was still nowhere to be found and had left a traceless trail behind her. Other than a few rumours of a Nordenfiir, which wasn't even necessarily the one she was looking for, the woman had come up with nothing and had simply trudged around desperately asking for hints. She had become eager to take things into her own hands and a flier had seemed like a good idea at the time. Her name, a location where she could be found, and simple details that she wanted someone hunted down. She left the details vague, in case the heir had spies, but she knew that even with vague details, her purpose was apparent. There was nothing friendly about this contractor's aims.

The Nordenfiir had taken up some rooms in one of the nicer taverns in the city, but the fliers were spread out across the place. They all lead to the same place - a small field at the outskirts, where she was spending her free time while she was in the area training. It was rather meaningless training - with no one to train against, it consisted mostly of her stabbing the empty air with her spear, but it gave her the semblance of productivity when she had run out of people to question.

This particular afternoon, she was practising some drills that she had been taught when she had first trained to be a Shieldmaiden, some meaningless repetitive movements that were only good for building form, when she spotted someone approaching.

Finally. Help, of some sorts. From what she could tell, she was holding some sort of paper in her hand. The flier, perhaps? It wasn't as exciting as someone who had actual news, but soon enough, she might have some anyway.

Digging her spear into the ground, she leant against it, lifting her hand in a rather lackluster wave. "Looking for me?" she called out, gesturing her to come closer. Emeria pushed out a smile, hoping the stench (her normal strong scent mixed with sweat from this hot weather) didn't drive her away immediately. "I'm sorry you caught me at such an awkward time. If I had known someone would be coming, I would have finished my training a little earlier. No worries!"

 

[Florence]

No other people in sight, just a woman and her spear. From the looks of it she was also someone that knew what they were doing with it. With the flier in hand Florence would approach her with a soft nod to indicate that she had indeed come here because of the job posting. By the looks of it this was a job that the other woman could have done herself. Maybe she was simply looking for a partner, or maybe the tough exterior was merely a facade, or maybe it was a bit of both.

“I have no issue waiting, if you want to finish your practice.” Florence spoke with a voice that was far softer than the uncouth exterior that they kept. “The job mentioned you needed someone found and judging by your looks I take it you ain’t in a rush. No offense, of course.”

Arms folded themselves across the blonde vessel’s chest as she leaned back and simply observed the other woman. She seemed strong judging by her size and from what she had seen she was good with a spear. Looks weren’t necessarily unkempt, but they certainly had a more wilder flavor to them. A nord, perhaps? Florence had only been on that side of The Spine once or twice and it wasn’t exactly for a good kind of social call.

They made good warriors out there though, no denying that. She had plenty of bruises to attend to after said battle.

“Who is it that you want found, and what are you offering for payment?”