Private Tales Old Reliable

[Avvercus]

Faint city sounds bustled, the soft chatter of people and the occasional clatter of hooves on stone and clinks of metal on metal, creating a lovely, relaxing white noise to serenade a cup of afternoon tea. Or so the young woman thought to herself, reclining in a hand-carved wooden chair that sat beneath a canvas just outside of a quaint little tea shop named Jade Essence. The city of Alliria was a wonderful place, full of life and all of society's conveniences. A veritable treasure trove of knowledge just waiting to be put to pen.

She was youthful, firm pale skin and a face free of laughing lines or crows feet. Silver-white hair tumbled down her countenance, the tips of her fine silky locks tickling her shoulders. She reached back with one hand, as if to adjust something there, but her hand only swiped at thin air just below the nape of her neck, causing her to frown. This happened from time to time, muscle memory performing an action that was no longer necessary, as if her hair had been longer once.

She shrugged it off, smiling, enjoying a lazy afternoon. She was perfectly happy and content despite knowing she had just spent the last of her coin, and felt entirely unconcerned.

Avveline Voxinium was a small woman, and her appearance did not inspire confidence in her physical ability. One might think she was quick, but that is where expectation would likely end. Not exactly an intimidating sight for her enemies, or a comforting one for her allies.

But, then again, she had the obvious look of a mage about her. That might inspire some confidence, if not her lithe stature.

And, there was, of course, the arm. The woman’s right arm was strange. The skin was black as a night sky, and dim, pulsing lines of green lanced down it.

Yes, she wasn’t intimidating, but she still drew enough attention. And if she was lucky, she’d catch the eye of someone that could make her a bit of money.

Dingo

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Always taking me to these places. The demon, Belephus, who lived inside the jewel of his bone-white gauntlet hissed as Garrod walked through the streets of the bustling city. What am I supposed to do here, hmm? You starve me as it is, then you just walk about a place with oh so many souls, and never, not once, have you let me take them. Not a one!

Taunt and cry as the demon did, Garrod had grown accustomed to it. His body never quite relaxed because of it, but he managed to wear a look of calm. Tired, yes, but without anger or menace. He had learned that his gauntlet and sword did enough of that already, and he had little need to add to it.

But, mercenaries and adventurers were a common enough sight among the city streets. Especially when so near an adventuring guild. The hanging sign read Grilda's Gauntlet, and a copper haired dwarf lady smiled proudly upon the shield shaped advertisement, two gauntlet's pounded knuckles before her visage. He entered, and a bright bell chimed over his head.

"Welcome," called out a plump book keeper from behind a fine wooden desk. "Come for a contract?" he asked without looking up from his reading material. A few other adventurers milled about, some gathered about chatting tactics and approach. Others looked through the vendors' wares, flashing guild membership badges to secure a discounted rate.

Garrod smirked, and approached the desk. "Aye, that I am,"

The book keeper looked up, tired eyed and bored. "Oh, it's you Garrod," he said before licking his thumb and turning the page of his book. The cover read The Tales of Princess Piriyin: The Dragon's castle and the Wizard's Cowl. "Still alive and well I see,"

"Well enough," he responded. "Still reading old romance novels, I see,"

The book keeper peered up with steel in his eyes, "Yes, and, what of it?" He said with some edge in his voice.

Garrod shrugged. "Was wondering if you'd recommend that one is all," he said easily.

The book keeper sighed and closed the binding of pages with a floomf. "Its, rather enjoyable I suppose," he turned toward Garrod and opened a much larger book that thunked on the wood of the desk with the weight of its many pages and its thick binding. "I am not happy with who the Princess ended up with in the end, but, there is no accounting for poor taste, is there?"

Garrod chuckled. "No, I guess not," he scratched at his chin, his eye still looking at the copy the book keeper had laid down. "Know where I can find a copy?"

The book keeper's eyes flitted up like arrows let loose at Garrod. "You are interested?"

"Have read a few books in the series now," he said with a sly smile. "Was rooting for the wizard myself."

A soft laugh bobbed the book-keeper's dainty mustache, and he adjusted his fine silver rimmed spectacles. "Well, I won't spoil anything for you, but I am glad to find someone who finally agrees,"

"Oh, come now, you said no spoilers," Garrod teased.

"My mistake," the book-keeper said, all too pleased. He pushed the copy of the cheap book forward. "Here, as an apology, I've read the story thrice over, and always enjoy hearing of another's first read."

Garrod took the book, and nodded his head in thanks. "Much appreciated, the road is oft a lonely and boring place," and he tucked the book away.

The book-keeper grabbed his feathered quill from its inkpot, dabbed it once, twice. "Now, I take it, you'd like a hunt?"

Garrod nodded.

"Might I recommend this job for you?" he dabbed the pen at a line of script that read, Cockatrice Roost. "Dangerous things really, for amateurs, but you have a good record in our books, and we can supply you with soft potions to help prevent the petrifying poison that makes those beasts so menacing," he pointed to the vendor across the room. "At a heavy discount of course, especially if you become a member of our guild~"

Garrod looked at the reward. Saw two purses listed. Standard rate, fifty gold pieces, member's reward, sixty. "That’s a new policy. How do you become a member?" he asked.

The book keeper smiled wide, like a cat who eyed a mouse. "Well, you either complete three hunts for us in a single month, fulfill a major contract and receive a recommendation from the posting agent, or... pay a small fee."

"How much is the fee?"

"Twenty gold pieces, up front, to be recurred once per dwarven calendar year, and a two gold pieces per contract acquired through our guild services. Still, the average membership bonus incurs an extra seven to fifteen gold pieces, depending on the contract, once all fees have been deducted."

Garrod, shook his head. "No thanks, basic contract will be fine."

The book keeper nodded, and circled the base price. "Very well, Garrod Arlette, if I recall correctly,"

A nod to confirm.

"Excellent, the job is yours, should you bring proof of your deeds, you will be rewarded justly, to be distributed as you see fit with party members of your own choosing,”

Another nod.

"Is that all for today, Garrod?"

One last nod.

---

Garrod exited Grilda's Gauntlet, and walked the street, stuffing the contract into a pocket inside a pouch that hung on his belt. He saw a wizardly type, with an air of mischief about them. They were small, but with a suspiciously arcane looking arm. He rested his great-sword against the wall of the cafe, and sat in a chair across from her. Casually, he nodded to her. "Interested in a job?" he asked, and smirked. "You look like the sort who can handle a bit of trouble,"

 

[Avveline]

Avveline reclined in her chair, rocking back on two legs, sipping her tea while watching the stranger approach. She had the cutest little smile as she watched him, green eyes aglow. Quite literally aglow with a dim viridian light. Her gaze was analytic, bemused, mischievous. If Garrod was able to sense the mana in the air around him, he would find it was buzzing, and none too subtly. She made it so obvious she was studying him both physically and supernaturally the most mundane of people could pick up on it with a 6th sense they might not have even known they had.

It only lasted a few seconds, but when she finished and her eyes stopped glowing and she leaned forward, elbows resting on the table and her chin in her hands while she looked up at him, the man felt as if he'd been stripped naked down to the very soul in a very unsettling manner.

Whatever she may have gleaned from that look, she didn't share outright.

"From the way you carry yourself and the... Interesting things you carry, I take it the job in question will not take place in a bedroom, and 'trouble' isn't the thing in your pants," she smirked, teeth flashing with a teasing grin.

She slid her tea cup to one side and sat up, giving him a more proper posture to look at and a more serious air about her. She gave a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

"Even if that was the job, I'd be inclined to take it. I am fresh out of coin and don't fancy a night sleeping in an alleyway. I'd like to hear it; Your name, and the job offered. I am Avveline. Avveline Voxinium, wandering scholar," she smiled more genuinely, and offered her hand, the one that looked like it actually belonged to her.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod froze, feeling the air around him stir. As if it were alive, as if it were charged and electric. Magic. He thought to himself, and he noted the glint of vibrant and jewel like green that flashed across the petite woman's eyes. Well shit, he thought, and smiled to himself, even though he felt the pierce of her investigation. The emptying out.

He hated that he was rather used to the feeling of such invasions. But it didn't mean he liked it.

"Like what you see?" he said, testy and with hint of snarl there in his forced smile.

She spoke of bedrooms and other sort of work. His eye narrowed and he leaned back in his chair as he heard her out. "No, hate to disappoint," he added easily and dug into his pouch, pulled the guild contract, and put it in her hand. "My cock troubles are of a different sort entirely," he let go of the paper.

"The name's Garrod, by the by," he waved down a server. "Can I get a coffee, please? Just a splash of crème if you would," the young man nodded and was off. "No offense, but I don't much do handshakes these days," he glanced at her again. "Met one too many empaths in my day, and I prefer keeping my inner workings to myself," there was a bit of heat there again in his voice. A warning or a threat. It was hard to tell.

That's right, Garrod, you tell this rude wench what's for. I am the one who invades! The demon in the jewel yowled in his mind.

 

[Avveline]

"I do," she chirped cheerfully, all smiles, as if the hostility in the air was all sunshine and rainbows. She received the contract and glanced over it, smirking and giggling at his amusing response. A cockatrice. A beast she may or may not have encountered before. This would make for an excellent opportunity for some hands on scholarly work, and the pay was nothing to scoff at. She had the everyday common knowledge of these beasts, their nasty habit of turning things to stone, but that was about it.

"I think I like you already. I ask you forgive the intrusion, but one can't be too careful with strangers. Especially those offering jobs out of the blue. Especially jobs of a dangerous nature," she commented, "And no offense is taken, you are right to be cautious... But you have my word that I have a policy about intruding on thoughts and feelings. That is reserved for saving lives, my own or otherwise," she beamed at the man named Garrod, keeping her hand extended for just a moment longer in case he changed his mind, before smoothly retracting it.

She kept her eyes on him, waiting for his drink to arrive before taking another sip of her own.

"I've determined you to be trustworthy and competent enough. I'll happily accompany you. But first... Allow me to repay my rudeness. Ask any questions you'd like, I will answer all," she said in a way that made it seem like she really would answer any question, and was perhaps even eager for it.

"Ah, and then we can discuss the business side of things. I will happily take a smaller share of the rewards. I assume you had to pay a fee for this contract... And you seem more than capable of taking this on by yourself."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

He eyed the offered hand still with some suspicion. Though he supposed if he were willing to work with such a person, he would have to put some measure of trust in them. He clasped her hand in his own, and gave it a shake. Firm, but careful.

He eased back into his chair, and thanked the server as they dropped off his drink. He took it up into his gauntleted hand, blew on it once, twice, took a tiny sip and decided it was still far too hot. He let it rest on the table between them, and listened to her proposition.

"Any question?" he asked, brow raised with curiosity, and his lips pursed in surprise. He leaned forward some as thoughts churned in his head. "Now," he smiled a hound's smile. "That is generous," he sat back, curled into himself as he thought, clawed finger, encased in ghostly-white armor tapped at his chin. He stopped, and flicked a finger out at the young woman. "What's the story behind the arm?"

He nodded at her concerns about the business side of things. "How about a sixty forty split? Lets me cover the fees, and you get a nice piece of the pie," he took a sip from his coffee.