Pharis Thorne
Member
- Messages
- 2
- Character Biography
- Link
The sun was hot and overbearing over the small coastal city. The sound of caravan wheels rolling over eroding sandstone streets mixed with the mingling Sand Elves and other species. They whispered in their mysterious caravan languages as she trekked past, a large sack slung over her back.
Her dress was much unlike those there. Clad in a navy garb over chain-mail, riding pants and leather boots she contrasted to the loose bundles of fabric the locals wore over their heads and bodies to protect themselves from the harsh sun and desert heat. Clicking her teeth she shifted the heavy bag over her shoulder to the right and entered a wood and adobe general store.
All words ceased as the bell rang and her boots clacked on the floor of the establishment. Wary eyes followed her every move as she moved to the counter. Slowly she pulled a damp piece of folded parchment and flipped it open with a flick of her wrist before she slapped it on the table.
A bounty, sent by courier to every local settlement and carried on caravans far and wide. The store owner grimaced, which was never a good sign. With a sigh Pharis dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter as well. The heavy thuds and the gasp from the store clerk elicited a chuckle from deep in her mind. That mischievous Orc couldn't contain himself.
<<I've brought you proof of a completed job, just pay me so I can leave this place.>>
<<O-of course,>> the man replied in the local trade language, <<but I don't have the coin. I-it'll be here tomorrow!>>
<<That's fine, what about that sword over there?>> Pharis pointed to an ebony scimitar hanging above the fireplace. <<That will be fine as payment.>>
<<But that's a family heirloom!>>
<<And its also worth less than that bounty you placed without having the gold yourself.>> She sighed, annoyed, and pulled her sword from her scabbard, drawing the attention of the others gathered who in turn drew various daggers and exotic bladed weapons. <<Its either the sword, or their hands.>>
Her dress was much unlike those there. Clad in a navy garb over chain-mail, riding pants and leather boots she contrasted to the loose bundles of fabric the locals wore over their heads and bodies to protect themselves from the harsh sun and desert heat. Clicking her teeth she shifted the heavy bag over her shoulder to the right and entered a wood and adobe general store.
All words ceased as the bell rang and her boots clacked on the floor of the establishment. Wary eyes followed her every move as she moved to the counter. Slowly she pulled a damp piece of folded parchment and flipped it open with a flick of her wrist before she slapped it on the table.
A bounty, sent by courier to every local settlement and carried on caravans far and wide. The store owner grimaced, which was never a good sign. With a sigh Pharis dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter as well. The heavy thuds and the gasp from the store clerk elicited a chuckle from deep in her mind. That mischievous Orc couldn't contain himself.
<<I've brought you proof of a completed job, just pay me so I can leave this place.>>
<<O-of course,>> the man replied in the local trade language, <<but I don't have the coin. I-it'll be here tomorrow!>>
<<That's fine, what about that sword over there?>> Pharis pointed to an ebony scimitar hanging above the fireplace. <<That will be fine as payment.>>
<<But that's a family heirloom!>>
<<And its also worth less than that bounty you placed without having the gold yourself.>> She sighed, annoyed, and pulled her sword from her scabbard, drawing the attention of the others gathered who in turn drew various daggers and exotic bladed weapons. <<Its either the sword, or their hands.>>
