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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 738414" data-attributes="member: 227">Partway down the guesthouse hall, Kale stood easily by the wall. Nearby, a lampsconce flickered shadows about, as though the mercenary hadn’t yet decided: to be seen, or unseen. His brow creased in frustration, wondering what it meant, any of it. With so little he would or could make sense of-- then their resident Priestess of Truth had to go and throw her own flavor of chaos into the mix. Fiddling with his leather handwrap, his eye caught a shadow through the hall. Lady Truth herself he thought as the woman approached. "Bad for business, to say the least," was the only neutral way he could think to begin. Bloody stupid running of the mouth is more like it. Looking up from his hands, Kale searched the woman for some manner or sense. Ebri moved purposefully down the hall, the hem of her garments brushing the dust-free floor, the ridges dividing the massive stone blocks from one another punctuating her thoughts as her fingers trailed across them. The healing was a blessed relief: it removed one more distraction, allowing her to marshall more of her energies toward her goals. Of these, the primary one was sleep, but it seemed likely to be delayed: the hothead mercenary Amegrion skulked up ahead, regarding her with gloom. "If you have aught to say, please do so." she told him smoothly, not pausing in her step as she walked past. She was plainclothed and bloodied, Kale thought for a moment one might mistake the woman for a misplaced, battered servant. Out of place, perhaps not, as her slick passing demeanor sorted her well among the estates, the political labelry, the façade-portraits on the mansion stone walls. If Kale had a problem with ‘nobility’ in the place, it wasn’t Ecurius he scorned. Okay, I’ll play your game. Gliding into step as Ebri breezed past, the mercenary engaged. No doubt she would pace such not to come side by side, no doubt she reserved her advantage to end the conversation as soon as she reached her destination. Well, what could I expect? I don’t have an appointment. "I could very well say the same thing." Kale controlled his tone, reminding himself he was talking to a woman who had it All Figured Out. "Because I’m wondering when we all signed onto your personal truth crusade." Kale watched the back of her head carefully, ready to meet her eyes should she deem him worthy enough to turn about. "And why you feel your business should come at our expense." His light infantry boots clicking even rhythm on the stone floor, Kale phrased thing in a way the woman would expect from a plain mercenary. She kept her eyes forward, and rolled the words around in her mouth. "Do you object to the truth, then?" Oh, gods, Kale rolled his eyes. "I don’t seem to be the one having trouble grasping reality." He began to get frustrated, but recalled to mind the droning professors, the heedless commanders, the countless arrogant merchants and statemen he had encountered before. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the fresh rain air that filtered into into the hall, wild and new, smoothed out by the stone wall’s solid stillness. Any other evening, it would have been a pleasant experience. "Truth?" "I’ll tell you what I’ve seen," Kale began, pressing a half step closer, wondering if the woman enjoyed speaking while her target simply watched her back. "Assuring me of your skills, you alone engaged, to your folly, an enemy far your superior. This night, certain of your handle on ‘truth’, you make accusations that are only safe if wrong. At the least you cost business, at the worst you cost lives," Kale stated the facts that he knew. "All I want to know, Immarian, is that in all your exclusive service of your far-off god, did you ever consider the service of this crew? You know, the ones that patched you up after you were beat down to a sodden mess?" It would be hard to put a cocky spin on that last one. "Your vision is colored by your needs and desires, of course. Like most, you see what you wish." Ebri answered calmly. If nothing else, this one was worth watching. He had the guts to question, and that was dangerous. "The enemy we encountered was far superior to any one of us alone. What you call folly was a calculated risk, Amegrion. Of all of us, I considered myself to be able to withstand the mage longest, to the least ill-effect, in order to delay his summoning of further foul beasts. And had you joined me, your leader and several others would have died. Perhaps you will ask me again if I have ever considered service to this band." "As for this evening, I stand by my words, for I believe them. But if you objected, or felt that I was a risk to your business--" Ebri invested the word with the sordidness of profit that neglected the concept of morality. "--then you might have repudiated me or my words at any time. But consider: what did you know of the man, really? And what of our mission? Would you really walk unknowing into what might be a trap? For mercenaries can be bought, sir, and they can also be sold." "As an Immarian, I already have the reputation for distrusting the authority of those that rule: therefore, I was best suited to question. The risk was small, and the punishment would have fallen upon me alone." The young mercenary became more and more angry at the woman’s words. Amegrion. She even used the family name, to brag how much she knew. At the last he rounded on the woman, to face her eye to eye. The woman was crafty, and deadly, he would have to be careful that this remained just a conversation. "I didn’t ask for your ‘risk assessment.’ You feed me garbage about how little I know about my business, then tell me your risks are small? You don’t know stroke one about the trade, yet you are making decisions that put us all at stake. Wolf and I might not know everything, but experience shows that you know very little." "And don’t try to impress me with your ‘bloody sacrifice for the team’. Foolishness does not substitute for valor. I’ve had real soldiers give it all for me, and not one, not one had the arrogance you show me tonight." Real anger began to show around the seams. He looked levelly at the woman for two breaths. He knew better than to think he could intimidate her, but his resolve was nonetheless solid. "If you think the risks we take are unwarranted, you are free to go at any time. But should you decide to stay--should Wolf find leave for you to remain-- you are going to do without your calculated risks. You can cut your teeth on mage duels and sparring with nobility on your own time." Cooling down a bit, Kale softened. "Look, this doesn’t have to be a showdown. But if you are going to work with us, what I need is some assurance that you are not going to tangle us in some personal crusade. I nedd to know you won’t cause more trouble than you’re worth."Of a sort, this was reassuring: Kale was convinced she knew as little as an Immarian should. She blinked, and shrugged, tilting her head as she looked up at him. "You distress yourself unnecessarily." The words were cool, neutral, and informational. "I neither care for your opinion of me nor need your approval. As I have said, I walk Immar's road. His road happens to be yours for now. I have no personal crusade, whatever you may think. What do you know of faith, Kale Amegrion? Little, apparently. I will tell you. To have a goal in mind beforehand, or any overarching zeal and purpose, a crusade, you would say-- would detract from my experience of the journey. Had I a goal, or any point to prove, I should be distracted from the lessons I would gain along the way. It would be antithetical to my purpose entirely--" Ebri's mouth formed into a cold little smile. "I have no especial care for you or any of your 'crew'-- other than that I have for any sentient, good willed beings on life's road--" "And that care is not insubstantial." she said at last. She made her eyes placid and cow-like, unthreatening. It was important to let him have the sense of victory, or at least of having had an effect on her. "And for the last, you must decide: how much trouble am I worth? It is a curious question." My, but the woman was slick. Kale corrected his cynical observation from before: Ebri surely did belong in the courts with the politicians and royals. She deflected questions like stone parapet, and behaved with overreaching assurance. The woman seemed to soften a touch, but he could not get any handle on what she could possibly be thinking. She was some manner of insane…-- a critical case of arrogance. "How much are you worth?" Kale repeated as he was drawing a conclusion. "I can answer that one right now. A sharp blade, a listening ear, a watchful eye... you’re worth that five feet of line you can cover should the chips come down. You’re not worth another episode of the foolish antics that I’ve come to expect from you. I prefer to remain alive and in one piece, and if your presence becomes a liability to that, then you’re clearly not worth the goldshare that is your place. You’re not some stray dog that can just wander where she pleases, and we’re not a gypsy band weak to taking in pets. ""You speak of lessons as though you can learn them. You don’t care for my opinion? Fine. But you can either perform and stay out from underfoot, or you can hit the Traveler’s road." It was ridiculous. When had Kale ever talked like that? "My blood is worth nothing less." And that was the truth.Pressing her lips together, Ebri simply nodded ackowledgement, and turned and walked on. There is a power found in yielding, she recalled an early lesson. The mercenary could have the last word. She continued upon the way to her chamber. And finally, she was silent. Why does she never say anything I want to hear? He wondered as he took a step back, easing the distance between them as they disengaged. If this was her one moment of meekness, Kale certainly wasn’t going to ruin it by standing up in her face. Meekness? Kale didn’t hold his breath. But at least he could hope the woman got the message. More importantly, he considered as he shouldered up to the cold stone wall, that she would make changes sufficient to keep from becoming the disaster he feared. Hope, there was still hope. "Cheer up, boyo," Kale murmured sarcastically to himself. "At least you’ve got your health," He finished in an ‘old sage’s chestnut’ tone that poked irony in the cold air. Sore legs kicked an awkward scuff on the floor, and the mercenary finally turned and headed to a deep, dreamless sleep.</blockquote>

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