Agent York / Natalie van der Haast (
neverknocks) wrote in
sunchime2020-06-04 10:25 pm
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and now for something completely different
It'd have been stupid not to take this job. Escorting along this route to Atlas City is easy money, and York needs the gold. But it's what she's escorting that really caught her attention. The caravan's owner is a wealthy merchant, and one brief glimpse at the merchandise promised a much better reward than a little sack of gold. Is he even aware just how old that magic amplifier is, nestled in various expensive baubles? They just don't make talismans like that anymore. Well, that's alright. York will relieve him of it and take it into the custody of someone who can really appreciate its merit.
And then transfer it into the custody of someone even richer than this guy.
She's not really offended that the merchant hired another bodyguard. Two is better than one, and the merchant had given her bad eye a slightly doubtful look. This other guy clearly makes up for whatever perceived shortcomings she might have, though. Stoic is a nice word for it, though she could really go for some conversation. Guy really likes to keep his hood up, too, though all that covering doesn't totally mask a face far from natural. She notices these things. It's a little hard not to. That sword of his is definitely no joke -- hell of a lot cool-looking than York's own short sword, admittedly -- and he's got the distinctive aura of an experienced sorcerer. She's not sure she'd care to test her magic against his.
"Don't you ever get hot in all that?" York asks him at the end of the first day with a gesture at his whole getup, taking the moment of quiet to get in a good stretch. The road is quiet, but then, it's only twilight. Plenty of nasty things prefer to come out in the dark. "Walking around all day in the sun wrapped up like a mummy -- that'd make anyone sweat. Or are you just not a sunshine and fresh air kinda guy?"
And then transfer it into the custody of someone even richer than this guy.
She's not really offended that the merchant hired another bodyguard. Two is better than one, and the merchant had given her bad eye a slightly doubtful look. This other guy clearly makes up for whatever perceived shortcomings she might have, though. Stoic is a nice word for it, though she could really go for some conversation. Guy really likes to keep his hood up, too, though all that covering doesn't totally mask a face far from natural. She notices these things. It's a little hard not to. That sword of his is definitely no joke -- hell of a lot cool-looking than York's own short sword, admittedly -- and he's got the distinctive aura of an experienced sorcerer. She's not sure she'd care to test her magic against his.
"Don't you ever get hot in all that?" York asks him at the end of the first day with a gesture at his whole getup, taking the moment of quiet to get in a good stretch. The road is quiet, but then, it's only twilight. Plenty of nasty things prefer to come out in the dark. "Walking around all day in the sun wrapped up like a mummy -- that'd make anyone sweat. Or are you just not a sunshine and fresh air kinda guy?"
no subject
The other guard on duty seems a shifty sort; he caught her peeking in at the pile of uselessly pricey trinkets at the same time that he was doing his own assessment of the merchant's property, with more interest than would be strictly appropriate.
Anyway, it's not like he's just lurking around the cart at the end of the day, waiting for a quiet moment to cast a detection spell when no one's paying attention. It's not like he's at all irritated that not only can he not get a quiet moment alone with the goods, but his colleague here also feels the need to get a little personal at him.
He puts a hand on a hip, scanning the dimming wildnerness around them. "It doesn't bother me. Mind your own business."
no subject
York is not at all deterred by said standoffishness. Most folks in this line of work aren't all that talkative, which is a shame. But really, Zelgadis, shifty is as shifty does. She's pretty sure he's here for more than just a sack of gold, too. You don't look like that and take the tedious jobs for fun. No need to give him any time to get a leg up on her, so no need to leave him to his own machinations. She finishes stretching and fishes an apple out of her pack, a knife appearing in her hand from some hidden sheath.
"Is that why you carry that sword, so everyone knows you're an enigmatic badass?" She nods at the sword on his hip, eyebrows raised. "The hilt's pretty flashy. Makes you look like the safe kinda mysterious than the dangerous kind. Bet it's pretty disarming to the rich guys. They never suspect they'll get robbed by the righteous-looking ones."
no subject
"I'm hired to carry a sword," he says, stating the obvious with irritation filling his voice while his body language stiffens. "Let's keep this professional. We're here to see this caravan to Atlas City. Or are you the one with other ideas?"
no subject
"What's so unprofessional about small talk? This is how you learn the business, y'know. Talkin' to people. Networking. I get the sense you don't do a whole lot of that."
She makes a pretense of looking offended at the accusation, spearing a slice of apple on her knife with a disarming look. "Hey, I didn't say anything of the sort. You're the one who doesn't like his face being seen." She grins, a peace offering. The burned skin around her bad eye crinkles. "Look, you got a face like mine, it's either mercenary work or joining a bandit gang. You think I'm gonna jeopardize this opportunity by taking a five-finger discount? Like I'm that stupid. I'm hired to carry a sword, too. Mine's just not so flashy."
That's a lie, York is totally that stupid.
no subject
"I never asked for this face," he says, turning away from her and taking a step towards the other side of the caravan. "We should be securing a perimeter for the night. Feel free to join me when you're done eating."
no subject
She follows at a pace behind him even as she crunches on that apple slice. "I can multitask," she says through a mouthful of fruit, but despite her outward indolence, she's alert, her good eye taking in the (very boring) perimeter. She can move in a hurry if she needs to, and she's already got a weapon in hand. Thus, it is still snack time.
There's not much of a perimeter to secure, this close to the main road. That's what York thinks until she comes upon a trampled path through a nearby thicket, too broad and heavy-footed for human tracks. She crouches to get a better look, frowning. "You hear of any trolls haunting this area before?"