Night in Alliria.
She had just about had enough of this particular assignment. It didn't matter that she herself was the one that had issued the task; all of the others were off working other jobs. This one paid the most out of the current lot despite the simplicity of the contract. Escort missions tended to be either very tedious or very simplistic, and in this case it was the latter of the two. The white-haired woman glared moodily across the room at her patron, who was busily negotiating some kind of deal or another with some brute of a man seated across from him.
Merchants, she decided, were not the worst to deal with - that honor belonged to nobles, particularly those from important Houses - but they were a close damned second. Wealthy merchants could sometimes be worse, if their ego was to grand or their purse too deep. She blessedly did not deal with the caravan business at all, unlike many other companies such as hers. She was far more specialized in the services she offered, and charged much more for those services than simple caravan work.
Tonight, her charge was the merchant wheedling with the big brute. She had no idea what either party was selling or buying, and had no desire to. All she knew was her client was deathly terrified that someone might try to kill him over past business dealings.
And giving their surroundings, it was...plausible.
The Shallows were at best a deplorable pit of vice and villainy the likes of which she had only ever seen in the cities. There were many reasons she despised the people of so-called civilization, but a place like this exemplified so much of what was wrong. Greed, laziness, and a complete an utter lack of moral compass defined many of the patrons of this dive. it was a place where even residents of the slums and the shallows did not let their guard down. Until they were drunk, at least.
More shouting and yelling from the man across from the merchant, who stoically sat his ground and said nothing.
The sooner this night ended, the better. She knew as soon as she was done babysitting her charge, she would likely be back here to drink some of the profit away, and depending on how wild things got, probably catch and drag some unsuspecting piece of meat home for a good ol' fashioned roll under the blankets. Life for a warrior was too short to be cautious all the time, and she liked to get her pleasure where she could. Which was certainly not here, leaning against a wall in some smoky, foul smelling common room.
At least she was getting some attention from some of the locals. Aeyliea was a well made woman, and she bloody well knew it. She practically preened under male attention, which she gathered about her like a cult following simply by allowing enough flesh to show to hint. Normally, anyway. On the job, it was light leather and chain, soft enough not to chaff but protection enough to slow a blade. She was a well muscled, sculpted masterpiece with a finely honed face, high cheekbones, and eyes so deeply blue that they were nearly grey, like mountains viewed from afar. Her proportions were delightful.
And she knew it. And it had a tendency to make her insufferable, a trait already largely enhanced by a decided no-nonsense approach to life.
She stretched, grinning inwardly at the sparsely occupied tables and the attention it garnered her, and then went back to watching the dog and pony show, the barest hint of irritation displayed on her face.
She had just about had enough of this particular assignment. It didn't matter that she herself was the one that had issued the task; all of the others were off working other jobs. This one paid the most out of the current lot despite the simplicity of the contract. Escort missions tended to be either very tedious or very simplistic, and in this case it was the latter of the two. The white-haired woman glared moodily across the room at her patron, who was busily negotiating some kind of deal or another with some brute of a man seated across from him.
Merchants, she decided, were not the worst to deal with - that honor belonged to nobles, particularly those from important Houses - but they were a close damned second. Wealthy merchants could sometimes be worse, if their ego was to grand or their purse too deep. She blessedly did not deal with the caravan business at all, unlike many other companies such as hers. She was far more specialized in the services she offered, and charged much more for those services than simple caravan work.
Tonight, her charge was the merchant wheedling with the big brute. She had no idea what either party was selling or buying, and had no desire to. All she knew was her client was deathly terrified that someone might try to kill him over past business dealings.
And giving their surroundings, it was...plausible.
The Shallows were at best a deplorable pit of vice and villainy the likes of which she had only ever seen in the cities. There were many reasons she despised the people of so-called civilization, but a place like this exemplified so much of what was wrong. Greed, laziness, and a complete an utter lack of moral compass defined many of the patrons of this dive. it was a place where even residents of the slums and the shallows did not let their guard down. Until they were drunk, at least.
More shouting and yelling from the man across from the merchant, who stoically sat his ground and said nothing.
The sooner this night ended, the better. She knew as soon as she was done babysitting her charge, she would likely be back here to drink some of the profit away, and depending on how wild things got, probably catch and drag some unsuspecting piece of meat home for a good ol' fashioned roll under the blankets. Life for a warrior was too short to be cautious all the time, and she liked to get her pleasure where she could. Which was certainly not here, leaning against a wall in some smoky, foul smelling common room.
At least she was getting some attention from some of the locals. Aeyliea was a well made woman, and she bloody well knew it. She practically preened under male attention, which she gathered about her like a cult following simply by allowing enough flesh to show to hint. Normally, anyway. On the job, it was light leather and chain, soft enough not to chaff but protection enough to slow a blade. She was a well muscled, sculpted masterpiece with a finely honed face, high cheekbones, and eyes so deeply blue that they were nearly grey, like mountains viewed from afar. Her proportions were delightful.
And she knew it. And it had a tendency to make her insufferable, a trait already largely enhanced by a decided no-nonsense approach to life.
She stretched, grinning inwardly at the sparsely occupied tables and the attention it garnered her, and then went back to watching the dog and pony show, the barest hint of irritation displayed on her face.
