neverknocks: (vertebrae by vertebrae)
Agent York / Natalie van der Haast ([personal profile] neverknocks) wrote in [community profile] sunchime2020-06-04 10:25 pm
Entry tags:

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?"
bluerocks: zel looking shy, eyes and mask pulled over his face (feeling modest)

[personal profile] bluerocks 2020-06-05 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
This was just one more in a long chain of probable wild goose chases. Just another random junk collector, moving a load from city to city. At least if he walks off with some gold in hand, he'll be set to not have to look for paid jobs again for a little while.

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."
bluerocks: zel looking exasperated (can we not)

[personal profile] bluerocks 2020-06-07 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
One would think that he would eventually learn when someone is just trying to get a rise out of him, but no one has ever accused Zelgadis of being an astute people person.

"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?"
bluerocks: zel looking to the side, eyes closed, moody (that's part of my mysterious past)

[personal profile] bluerocks 2020-06-07 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
Zelgadis sighs. It looks like he's not going to get his moment to go rooting around inside the cart after all. Part of why mercenary work is so unappealing is precisely the total grab bag of company he ends up with; she's right, there's often a very thin line separating mercenaries and bandits. How else are the outcasts expected to make a living?

"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."