Solo [Job] Another Day, Another Annoyance.

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

37th of Spring 513AV

A cool breeze seemed the linger about the the air, it'd sway with a great ease back and forth along the walls of the city of Nyka, a huddled beat of footsteps seemed to follow about a leading crescendo credibility as they were led by the singular footsteps of Senghor Vilhjalmr, he held his arm to his chest and cradled a weight, a childish weight of a little girl, the merchant's youngest daughter it'd seemed.

Her little arms wrapped around his neck as she nest her head on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck and her damp breath slipping down along his neck as she rested her eager soul, her mother had told Senghor that her excitement had tired her out due to her nagging nature along their trip their.

Another foreign group of merchants in Nyka, the last weren't any better than these ones as for some reason, they'd all decided to start asking him questions about the city as ignitied he'd lived there, he was a foreigner, a visitor like they were, so what the Void did he know about the damned city.

``Where's the Aperture!?...

Why do they monks dress the way they do?...

Why do you look so depressed!?...

Are you from Eyktol like us?...

You look familiar, do I know you!?...

I heard the demi-gods here rarely appear, is it true!?...

Is ther...`` the flooding questions seemed to form a vein that pulsed along the forehead of Seng, the little girl in held onto him stirred slightly in her slumber as he shifted his hand up to loosen his stiffening muscles.

"Shut up..." he murmured under his breath as he looked down at the path they were walking on, he asked himself why, why did he end up in such predicaments, always?

At night inns were easier to find, due to the luster, the vibrant nature they exuded, he began to wonder why he didn't take such a job back in Sunberth, instead of fighting for pay and brawling for an honest living, yet he loved it, the intensity it bred with a thing of ecstasy as he was born into it, bred and hardened by it.

As they turned a corner with Senghor, who wondered when their little excursion would finish, they were a exuberant crowd and that didn't sit well with him, with his psyche. It was all so joyous, childish and new to them, he'd admit that it was somewhat new to him yet he felt a nostalgic air linger about wherever he trudged, a deja vù in which kept cycling recurringly, repeatedly driving him into a abyss of insane, his abyss of chains and he their prisoner, or their keeper?

He scowled, not from anger but from a sudden overwhelming 'joy', the inn!, again he'd found it! During the day, it was a visage of drab, it held no picture of sin nor life, it was as bland and bleak as the ideologies of the Celestial Seat. As he held onto the girl and let his word echo through the ears of the merchants, he looked down at the sleep girl and began patting her back of, from her abyssal hair and tanned features he could see she was the lead merchants little girl, she resembled her mother with a uncanny glow of vibrant luster and a oblique nature in their nostrils.

'Cute kid...' he thought to himself with a calm tide of generating ideals, as he turned to the group and looked them with a arching brow he let his voice be heard after clearing his throat.

"You can rest here until you're ready to start selling your wares..." he told them as he removed his palm from the child's back and brought it to her side, he firmly grasped onto her and lifted her up slightly.

As he brought her towards her mother gently, she flattered her as she began to awaken, her black pools slightly stared at Senghor's golden brown sleeping as she fell into the embrace of her mother. Senghor Vilhjalmr was never one to smile, he never sought such things yet it was rare moments like those that made the edges of his lips curl up slightly, momentarily to ease the child's thoughts so she could drift back into her sleep.

As the merchants daughter fell into a place of calm serenity, Senghor's head jerked towards her father and he frowned, he merely let his simple words negotiate for him.

"My pay..." he said to him as he saw the pouch of Mizas fall into his outstretched hand with a simple throw and catch, he heard as the nomadic merchants flooded the inn and he turned his head slightly towards the sleeping child, he told himself.

'Such innocence, must not know that blood is always shed in the world...' he told himself as he began walking down the pathways of Nyka, he found himself quite bemused that he hadn't killed or hurt anyone, he'd composed himself through his entire short trip with his contract and didn't shed blood, luckily Nyka during the day wasn't filled with the bias disease of crime, it wasn't Sunberth in any form.

He sighed as he looked at the pouch in his hand and felt the weight of his payment, it wasn't a bad job, yet such jobs were always filled with death and dark secrets, he wondered when, when would he begin plunging down into a spiraling web of deceit, darkness and death, it was soon, it was only a matter of time... He knew it...

[Abstract]

PC 2's name :

Skills:
Observation - 1

Lores:
Holding a baby
The innocence of a child

Miscellaneous:
However much they payed you

Again, short... and a little boring. Not much to give here. Please not that the only 'Inn' in Nyka is the Safe Haven Hostel. This is because Nyka doesn't really like foreigners... Also, somehow I doubt a mother would let their guard carry the baby... Please PM me if you have any questions, concerns, or comments!