by Belugnir on July 2nd, 2018, 1:16 am
Summer 73rd, The Vitrax's Courtyard, Late Afternoon:
''Fuck do you mean you don't know who asked for it?'', Einar retorted angrily at the ebon-clad soldier to whom he'd just handed over the leather sacks Samara requested delivered. The mercenary was decently recovered from yesterday's ordeal, having slept through a full night and a shameful part of the following day. Though thankfully he'd managed to get to the lake's shore with all of his belongings, the wolf's body included, in tact just in time to board a ferry that was leaving for the city proper. So here he was, roughly four bells afterward, tired, hungry, and still suffering the consequences of his burst overgiving from yesterday, apparent in the fact that there was an odd numbness in his lower left leg, giving him a little bit of a limp, the fact that his fingers still trembled under the gauntlets he wore, and the fact that the stress of yesterday had caused several patches of his beard and hair to speedily turn yellowed and grayed, as though he'd suddenly aged a couple of years across the span of an instant... Still, as roughened up as he was, he'd recovered well enough to walk with a straight back and be hearty in his lack of a good mood, plunged right to the border of aggression by the prospect of this Ebonstryfe guard being unwilling to pay him on the spot.
''I mean what I said, vagik.'', the soldier dismissed, taking another reassuring look into the saddlebags Einar had given him. ''I have no idea what those are, and won't be paying you a copper for delivering them.''
Oh you fuckin' wish, mate. ''Now listen to me, you fuckin' snot sucker. Either you deliver that bloody pack to some higher officer so that they check it and give me the pay I was promised on delivery, or I swear by all the gods, I'll bind you over my shoulder and carry you back all the way to the northern outpost so you can explain to Samara Alenta why her delivery was denied. If I have to walk the way on foot, I will, so fuckin' help me.'', this was one of the times where Einar's temper was simply exhausted, and he was perfectly fine with settling for tearing this cocksucker's throat out over being cheated out of his pay again.
''You will hold your tongue, outsider!'', the soldier yelled, with his two nearby colleagues already lowering spears toward Einar for his outburst.
''Watch that I don't get to hold yours sooner.'', Einar made a point of emphasizing his grip on the poleaxe he held, along with his other hand sliding onto the handle of his belted dagger. He'd abandoned reason at this point.
The soldier simply stared, dumbfounded by this fool who would pick a fight with the Stryfers at the doorstep of the Vitrax itself... The trio were hardly intimidated, but they did take note of Samara's mentioned name, and this filthy outsider certainly didn't appear to be some passer-by idiot who thought he could cheat some coin out of the organization by faking an important delivery... The least that could be done was to check with the officers... Better than risking poor relations and delayed hazards within the organization if they did kill Einar and the delivery turned out to be genuine in the very least.
''...Hold.'', the leading soldier decided. ''I shall go see the commander. You stay here, vagik, and surrender your weapons if you value your life. If whatever this is you've brought is of value, you'll be payed and allowed to leave... I'll not sully this courtyard by squabbling with the likes of you.''
''Suits me just cockin' fine.'', Ein retorted. A moment later he tucked his poleaxe at one of the two guards who remained to watch over him, followed by surrendering Rastmo's crude blade and the rest of his daggers. Then they would wait.
Some fifteen rather dull chimes would pass before the first soldier had gotten back around to the courtyard. No longer did he carry Samara's saddlebags. Instead within his hand was a pouch from which the hum of coin could be heard over thirty paces away. And Einar needed to hide his smug smile the best he could, for the soldier arriving hardly appeared pleased by the prospect of being made a fool.
''Here is your coin, outsider.'', disdain was plentiful in the soldier's tone as he'd given the pouch over. Ein could tell the man was downright itching to shove a fist into his face... he'd really best be getting out of there quickly, as, with his own pent up anger having diminished, plain common sense reminded him of just how much he was not in shape for a brawl at the moment.
He received his weapons back and as he made way out of the courtyard the soldier's voice echoed after him.
''That vagik should watch his tongue in the house of Rhysol's chosen.''
As soon as he was out of sight, Einar snorted a laughing sigh of relief. He got horribly lucky back there. For a while he was almost certain he'll get naught short of a spear in the gut...
Ein would pay visit to a couple of shops in Ravok afterward, namely to handle a certain thing or two in regard to his trophy wolf. He had a mind to fashion a mantle or some such from the thing's hide, possibly sell off the meat to some butcher's place. Either way... soon he would have taken care of the small business and made his way to the nearest room for rent available, paying a decent staying fee and finally collapsing into a proper bed, without fear for any horrid monstrosity lurking him from shadow and treetop.
Bloody hell is a vagik supposed to be, anyway?
Weekend 4/8K Marathon Word Count: +977 (Thread Total: 4010)