First Few Steps

Catalya, upon hearing this would raise an eyebrow. 'So I'm to be a slave then?' she thought, even though physically her head nodded vertically. "That's fine. Should I expect to have a room?" she would say, standing and picking up her bag, leaving the other items. She had just started to undo the straps of the gauntlets on her arms, but stopped abruptly; something told her to be patient. At the end of the day, she was going to be fighting arguably for free. While this wasn't necessarily a new avenue of life for her, she also had no reason to care about even one of the people in this tavern. As such, she would just turn stretching a bit. Waiting for his answer to her question, if there would even be one.
 
Osric Silkhand





Osric shrugs. "Hardly. I can't force you to fight for us - but you're welcome to prove your mettle until we have a contract that can pay you. I doubt you were sent without any coin to care for yourself, and you said you had plenty to sell besides the horse, so you're welcome at our camp if you can't pay for a room."


He glances at Lyke, thoughtful.


"Unless you'd condescend to share a room with any of us."
 
"I wont share a room with a man, that's where I draw a line..." she would say, not seeming to keen on explaining for reasons for this, though she would without hesitance if questioned. "Yes, I can hold off for a bit; I was just curious about whether I was welcome to camp or not... I have an answer now." she would say, her lithe form teetering lightly with fatigue. She would visibly shiver, then stretch her back once more. "Just let me know when we're moving out?" she would ask, moving to the corner and putting her back against a wall. Catalya used her bag as a foot-rest, and leaned her head in the wall; staring off a bit, but eventually closing her eyes.
 
Lyke


Nudging Sam again at the usage of the word slave, Lyke rolls her eyes before tapping hard on the table. Signs were silent and sometimes she needed attention to get her points across.


Starting with the common pointing, Lyke points at the newcomer, the Viper, then puts both hands together under her head in a pantomime of sleep with the addition of pointing upstairs then she points to the ground and back at Catalya. Lyke was a bit selfish but she didn't venture into the realm of irrationally stingy. A shared room was still better than her small tent out in some haunted copse. She wouldn't be sharing her bed though, the newcomer could pay if she wanted a mat or something.


Settling her actions with a bit of a questioning look at Osric, Lyke points at Sam, miming eating. The boy was tiny and shouldn't have been skipping a meal. Spitting off to the side, Lyke leans back in her seat, happy that at least things were settled with the newcomer. Despite this, she does withdraw her knife under the guise of both picking at her nails and carving an obscene doodle into the table.
 
Her eyes would open, peering across at the woman who was making wild gestures, when it suddenly dawned on her; that "cat got your tongue" joke from earlier wasn't a joke at all. She wasn't exactly the pick for the next scholar of her house, but somehow she managed to decipher all of this. Catalya would lean forward, picking up her bag and hoisting it over her back before walking upstairs and pretty much picking the room that seemed to relate most to that woman downstairs. As odd as it sounded... Once done, she would thud on in, pretty much letting herself fall on the floor with a groan.


Minutes would pass, and with the back of her head pressed against her bag full of clothes, she would fall into that familiar black of sleep. Letting the dreams, or nightmares of the past haunt her yet again.
 
Abram





Abram watched the proceedings with mild interest until Catalya had left the table to, presumably, drop her belongings in one of their rooms. Once she was gone from sight Abram hooked a thumb over his shoulder and asked Osric, "Might be we head up to talk business? Didn't have the chance last night."


@Grey
 
Osric Silkhand





Osric picks up his pint and stands.


"Aye, everyone's had breakfast," he smirks, "I hate discussing work on an empty stomach. C'mon you lot, upstairs."


He leads the way to the largest room and makes himself comfortable.
 
Abram





Abram placed his spoon inside his used bowl before grabbing his weapon and standing from his seat. He followed behind Osric quietly into the room before finding a new chair to rest his weight upon. This chair creaked even worse than the one downstairs, and for a moment Abram worried it might give way beneath him. When the creaking stopped and the chair held though he simply shrugged and got comfortable while he waited for the others to settle in, and then for Osric to finally tell them what their new contract was.
 
Lyke


Sliding back in her chair, Lyke expertly dismounts and grabs Sam by the scruff in a friendly sort of manner, letting him have ample room to wiggle out of her grip. Either way, she follows after Abram towards the stairs. Her boots adding to the parade of clomping up the well worn steps before following Abram and Osric to their chosen room.
 
Osric Silkhand





With his company gathered - albeit without the potential new hire of Catalya - Osric sits, rests his elbows on his knees, and his chin on his fists.


"We're on to a good thing here, my friends," he grins, "the man in charge is paranoid and wants us to watch out for traitors." Osric scans the faces of his companions for the moment of realization. "Now, perhaps there are monsters lurking out there somewhere too, and bandits - but is primary concern is political," he spreads his hands, halfway between shrug and contrition. "Bandits are no threat. Monsters we're apt not to have to worry about. Traitors? Easy money - especially if they don't exist."
 
Abram





Abram cocked a brow at the news, his left hand on his thigh while his right grasped his poleax. In the past he had been hired as a guard for towns and even a noble on one occasion, but this was something entirely new. Abram was no Inquisitor, much less any sort of learned inspector or investigator. If he had been offered this job alone he would have declined it outright, he simply didn't have the skills to complete the task. But with Osric leading them, a noble of some shade he couldn't quite figure out, they might have a chance of doing the job properly.


Still the job sounded strange to Abram, so he kept his mouth shut and his face skeptical. He looked around at the others slowly, trying to discern their thoughts on the matter as best he could.


@Grey @Teh Frixz @PixelWitch
 
Lyke


Lyke furrows while thinking about it before smiling. This is wonderful, the first real bit of good news she's gotten in forever, not counting the beds of course. She stamps her foot once, pointing at her smile then at the assembled group.


They were going to be playing at being 'inquisition'. Not in the sense of being officially part of that group but doing their job. All the perks and power without religious duties and oversight.


This paranoid baron or whatever would be paying out to have their services relegated to guarding from essentially nothing. No tromping through dangerous land or acting as the last defense against a horde of bandits. Just spending nights in town, fucking with locals and drawing a check.


Lyke gives Osric a little clap, pointing to him and giving a little gesture of well done. Pointing her finger up, showing she had one thing to ask. She jingles her coin purse, looking questioningly before pointing at everyone.


@KamiKahzy @Silvertongued @PixelWitch @Grey @KatarinaMID
 
Osric Silkhand





Osric sighs heavily, theatrically, but he's smiling at Lyke.


"Yes, you're all getting an even share," he says, "on top of the food and lodging we get to enjoy during the task."


He sits straighter, hands on his knees.


"Trust me; all we have to do is patrol a bit around the edge of town, get to know the locals, and keep our eyes open. We might have to do a spell on watch some dig site the lord mentioned - there are some earlier settlers turned bandit giving them a hard time."


That was often Osric's business; talk down a group of angry people being shat on by lords who only pretended to nobility. No need to kill anyone, if it could be helped.


"There's just a touch of bad news, though," he says, glancing around the room. "There's an Inquisitor in town and we'll expected to work with him. I'll do the talking so none of you need be worried, but I'm sure you all know better than to trust him or his lackeys."
 
Some time had passed as she slept. Catalya awoke on her side, head having long since fell from the elevated position on her knapsack. It was a jarring motion causing her to instinctively punch at the hard wooden beam directly in front of her. Doing so caused her to grasp her fist, and mutter a whispered obscenity. She couldn't even remember what her dream was about, but vaguely thought her Mother was involved.


A light shudder was given and she rose to a sitting position, yawning and stretching before getting up and moving out into the hallway. She had a naturally light gait, and would turn right out the door instead of immediately going downstairs. Mainly because the light voices coming from a nearby room. She wouldn't have caught everything, but started following just a bit after hearing something about an Inquisitor. She would listen to what was being said but not enter, instead turning and sneaking off to go downstairs.
 
Sam


Being lifted by the scruff of his neck had caused him to squeak in alarm, but he had had the sense to grab his (3rd) bowl of morning porridge before being frogmarched upstairs by Lyke.


He had listened to proceedings while continuing to eat quietly.


Patrols he could do... but in a way he'd almost prefer a monster or beasts... they were at least honest in their desires.


"We go in teams?" he hazards, "Split and watch different place?"
 
Lyke


Silently squirting a line of clear expactorate off into the corner, Lyke points out at the town, at the citizens, then points at the group before making a 'headlock' gesture. Every settlement had specific trouble makers that needed immediate showing up. Some young guy, beaming with the pride of his local hovel, would go around shouting about outsiders policing them... 


Actually, speaking (in a sense) of outsiders. Lyke gets a curious look on her face before doing her best impression of the symbol of the inquisition and pointing at the leader of their group. Who was the inquisitor, how 'zealous' was he, all the basic questions of inquiry rapidly signed out. 
 
A bit of time had passed, and Catalya was sitting on a footstool down in the foyer head perched over a steamy drum of water. With brush in her left hand, she held her hair in the right; head canted at an angle as she scrubbed the red dye from her hair. Periodically, she would glance about to see whether or not anyone had appeared, but was so far alone. She figured they were still going about the details of the most recent contract, and in a sense she should've joined in this debate. The reason she wouldn't, was quite simply that she didn't really consider herself a "smart" person...


Fights were "easy", and even in that right battle-plans were something she was pretty good with, albeit she had never actually been in a fight. In fact, while it would surprise some back home, she hadn't even killed anyone yet. Catalya didn't think this meant she would freeze when it first happened, but in a way the rite sort of loomed over her head. She found herself wondering who it would be, and where... How, and why. Though, in the end she rationalized it didn't really matter. With the life that she lives she knows it will come eventually.


After about twelve minutes, her hair was its usual raven black, with telltale streaks of red that she missed. She stood and carried the bucket over to the door to dump the water, then dropping it right at the doorway (out of the way) she would step outside, squeezing her hair and letting the sun work at it as she decided it might be time to explore this place.
 
Osric Silkhand


He nods at Sam, pointedly keeping his eyes of Lyke's target practice. Is there somewhere they hold a contest for spitting? Might be worth keeping her as a bootknife.


"Not quite, Sam. We split up, walk around in pairs, and make three-man patrols into the surrounding wild.


Osric almost jumps at Lyke's flurry of gestures, catching his eye like an incoming bandit. He watches carefully, cupping his chin.


"I believe the Inquisitor was called Raims - ring a bell with any of you? If we're lucky he's the type to take bribes."


If I'm very lucky.
 
Catalya took note of the wary eyes she received from the townsfolk. Given, with the events taking place here that had more than enough reason to do so, she would stubbornly glare back at anyone fool enough to hold her gaze for too long. Soon enough, she had reached the edge of town where she had come in from and found herself a tall tree. The lower branches were either cut, or not nearly enough to hold her weight, but it wouldn't deter her in the slightest.


She circled it partially, then took a step back, moving to kick off the tree, and grab on one of the higher up branches. A small sigh left her, and she pulled herself up and onto the branch with almost zero effort. Once there, she moved like liquid; climbing was like second-nature to her. Mind you, she was a far-cry from a scout, but wouldn't understand vertigo if Osric had sat her down to explain it. Within just forty seconds, she let out a final sigh staring out at the town in full. 


It wasn't a huge place, and suffered from the absence of a sturdy wall to encompass it; which meant if they were to fight, or defend this place the battle would take place within the streets almost immediately. "No wonder..." Catalya would mutter, taking it in as she imagined how a battle would play. Assuming an invading force didn't simply burn down everything in sight, they would have to block off certain routes, and force them into alleyways. She could hold her own without the threat of being stuck by an arrow. She suspected the mute could as well.


Catalya would rest on that branch, letting her foot loll off the side. 


When she finally saw the others of her party moving she would follow, but for now she considered how she felt about the "team", and also tried to memorize the layout of the town.
 
Lyke


Jangling her coin purse, Lyke shrugs at the suggestion of bribery. She didn't like money going out of her pockets that didn't have some sort of direct benefit to her. It was all too easy for officials like that to deny the protestations of a mute, gestures and flailing only went so far.  


Not that she'd experienced that or anything. That would be absurd. And there wouldn't be any record of a bandit group attempting to bribe public officials. All rumors and hearsay for sure. 


Lyke does shake her head a bit, shaking the coin purse again. This whole venture was about earning coin and lots of it. They didn't need to be burning through it on expensive and possibly dangerous bribes at this time. Maybe eventually, but they'd have to measure the man up first. 
 
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