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(( Language warning ))
”Six years. Six years it took me. What do I got to show for it? Nothin’. Nothin’. Pech.”
She was glaring so hard at the sky and its roilling clouds that she could have burned a hole through it, or the filthy glass inbetween. Having drunk quite a bit, her speech was a bit slurred.
”Do you have any idea how hard it is to get respect in a job like that? as a woman? in Luskan? and in the old docks?
Her voice got increasingly incredulous with each question.
”Mostly they just want you as a whore, or a ... well, whore. ...So many years.” She shakes her head. ”So many years... All gone. Nothin’ to return to even if I did. Carta was taken down. Wouldn’t have taken this job otherwise.
I knew it was too good to be true. I smelled it, I knew it, but the money was... sick. Even paid some in advance. Got none of it now though.” She grimaces. ”Not even my old blade. No pals, no job. Nothin’. Skinned blind. If we’d stayed, we coulda gotten other jobs... we woulda. People always need swords. But... we didn’t. We left. We took a chance. And chance took us. ... I lived, and they didn’t. Ain’t nothin’ fair about that. Not that I want to be dead. Just... luck’s cruel sometimes.
You know, I don’t even know if he died,” she suddenly states, looking sharper. ”He might have – but I dunno. Guards didn’t say. Or legion, whatever. Not sure if they bothered to remember. Or if he actually wasn’t there. Really woulda liked to know. They’re dead for sure though. My pals. Saw them. Other end of the building. My partners. Nah... companions. Crew.
We watched each other’s backs... Was needed. Rough life." She trails off, shaking her head, dark look coming over her face. "Gonna spare you the details. Just believe me when I say that the life I had there was tougher than most people can imagine. But it was a life. I had connections. I had ... something. Something that’s gone. People to eat with, who wouldn’t stab you in the back given half a chance. But now... I don't. Can’t go back. Nothin’ to go back to. And without my pals... no chance. No chance. Never.” She slowly shakes her head. ”Better luck just staying here where I’m a little less likley to die in turf wars, and power struggles between mages, and see what I can do. As long as I’m alive. ... You know, some chirpy fella told me that as long as there’s life there’s hope.” She stares accusingly at the clouds. ”Not much hope for my pals.
Six years,” She trails off again, once more shaking her head, gaze dropping from the heavens. ”If I had known... I never woulda left. Never woulda come here. We woulda found other work. Not that I didn’t want to leave. We all did. Ain’t no real life to live like that. Fightin’ every day. Not knowing who’ll give you a job and who’ll send you to Myrkul. But it was still a life... still better than being here, like this. With them dead, broke, and the idiot responsible possibly not dead.” Her gaze was dark and she looked like her last entire meal had been made up of lemons. She pauses, unable to speak from the bitterness of it all. ”Once you’ve worked for something that long, whatever life it is, it’s a result of your effort. Your blood, your sweat. It’s more than just your suffering. It’s a product of your efforts. Something you carved out of stone, with your own bare hands. Covered in your blood. No matter how ugly it is, it’s yours, you made it. And you better love it, cause it’s all you got.”
She buries her nose in her ale stein and slumps further down in the chair.
So here I am,” she sighs, ”just another face in the crowd, tryin’ to survive. Gonna do what I do best and stay out of the thick of it and just ... survive. Or live long enough to find a place here. Though I doubt it.” She snorts. ”Don’t much feel like integrating. Don’t much feel like anything. Feel like hunting down whatever pretend-merchant that mage was who hired us to ”escort” him up here. If he’s alive. Somehow doubt he got killed. Cunning as he was. Prolly had a plan for that too. Or that was his plan all along. To get rid of us.” Her glare goes back to the clouds, still hard. ”If so I guess he’ll come to me. Would save me the effort of findin’ him. If he don’t start flinging spells at me.” She shudders and squirms. ”Ech,” she exclaims when the ale stein turns out to be empty, and proceeds with another deep sigh. ”Well, now you know my story. Mad Mads Mickleton. Though I’ll warn you not to repeat that.” She shoots him a pointed glance.
The dwarf doesn’t reply. She looks at him for a good long while. ”You know, I do feel better now. Good you convinced me. Guess I haven’t vented like I should since I came here. Not had much opportunity.”
Intended as a friendly gesture, she slaps her hand down on his head, hard enough to startle anyone, but the dwarf just stirs, exhaling a long snore through his mustache, his hand still grasping a stein of ale, even in sleep. It was the last in a long row they had shared that day. She had just been sipping her share, too gloomy to even drink properly, or she’d never be the one standing. She drags her hand off of his hair and shakes his shoulder. ”Hey. You’ll wake up naked in an alley somewhere if I leave you like this. Maybe even wake up dead. Come on. Doubt Jimmy’ll like you spending the night on his floor.”
”Six years. Six years it took me. What do I got to show for it? Nothin’. Nothin’. Pech.”
She was glaring so hard at the sky and its roilling clouds that she could have burned a hole through it, or the filthy glass inbetween. Having drunk quite a bit, her speech was a bit slurred.
”Do you have any idea how hard it is to get respect in a job like that? as a woman? in Luskan? and in the old docks?
Her voice got increasingly incredulous with each question.
”Mostly they just want you as a whore, or a ... well, whore. ...So many years.” She shakes her head. ”So many years... All gone. Nothin’ to return to even if I did. Carta was taken down. Wouldn’t have taken this job otherwise.
I knew it was too good to be true. I smelled it, I knew it, but the money was... sick. Even paid some in advance. Got none of it now though.” She grimaces. ”Not even my old blade. No pals, no job. Nothin’. Skinned blind. If we’d stayed, we coulda gotten other jobs... we woulda. People always need swords. But... we didn’t. We left. We took a chance. And chance took us. ... I lived, and they didn’t. Ain’t nothin’ fair about that. Not that I want to be dead. Just... luck’s cruel sometimes.
You know, I don’t even know if he died,” she suddenly states, looking sharper. ”He might have – but I dunno. Guards didn’t say. Or legion, whatever. Not sure if they bothered to remember. Or if he actually wasn’t there. Really woulda liked to know. They’re dead for sure though. My pals. Saw them. Other end of the building. My partners. Nah... companions. Crew.
We watched each other’s backs... Was needed. Rough life." She trails off, shaking her head, dark look coming over her face. "Gonna spare you the details. Just believe me when I say that the life I had there was tougher than most people can imagine. But it was a life. I had connections. I had ... something. Something that’s gone. People to eat with, who wouldn’t stab you in the back given half a chance. But now... I don't. Can’t go back. Nothin’ to go back to. And without my pals... no chance. No chance. Never.” She slowly shakes her head. ”Better luck just staying here where I’m a little less likley to die in turf wars, and power struggles between mages, and see what I can do. As long as I’m alive. ... You know, some chirpy fella told me that as long as there’s life there’s hope.” She stares accusingly at the clouds. ”Not much hope for my pals.
Six years,” She trails off again, once more shaking her head, gaze dropping from the heavens. ”If I had known... I never woulda left. Never woulda come here. We woulda found other work. Not that I didn’t want to leave. We all did. Ain’t no real life to live like that. Fightin’ every day. Not knowing who’ll give you a job and who’ll send you to Myrkul. But it was still a life... still better than being here, like this. With them dead, broke, and the idiot responsible possibly not dead.” Her gaze was dark and she looked like her last entire meal had been made up of lemons. She pauses, unable to speak from the bitterness of it all. ”Once you’ve worked for something that long, whatever life it is, it’s a result of your effort. Your blood, your sweat. It’s more than just your suffering. It’s a product of your efforts. Something you carved out of stone, with your own bare hands. Covered in your blood. No matter how ugly it is, it’s yours, you made it. And you better love it, cause it’s all you got.”
She buries her nose in her ale stein and slumps further down in the chair.
So here I am,” she sighs, ”just another face in the crowd, tryin’ to survive. Gonna do what I do best and stay out of the thick of it and just ... survive. Or live long enough to find a place here. Though I doubt it.” She snorts. ”Don’t much feel like integrating. Don’t much feel like anything. Feel like hunting down whatever pretend-merchant that mage was who hired us to ”escort” him up here. If he’s alive. Somehow doubt he got killed. Cunning as he was. Prolly had a plan for that too. Or that was his plan all along. To get rid of us.” Her glare goes back to the clouds, still hard. ”If so I guess he’ll come to me. Would save me the effort of findin’ him. If he don’t start flinging spells at me.” She shudders and squirms. ”Ech,” she exclaims when the ale stein turns out to be empty, and proceeds with another deep sigh. ”Well, now you know my story. Mad Mads Mickleton. Though I’ll warn you not to repeat that.” She shoots him a pointed glance.
The dwarf doesn’t reply. She looks at him for a good long while. ”You know, I do feel better now. Good you convinced me. Guess I haven’t vented like I should since I came here. Not had much opportunity.”
Intended as a friendly gesture, she slaps her hand down on his head, hard enough to startle anyone, but the dwarf just stirs, exhaling a long snore through his mustache, his hand still grasping a stein of ale, even in sleep. It was the last in a long row they had shared that day. She had just been sipping her share, too gloomy to even drink properly, or she’d never be the one standing. She drags her hand off of his hair and shakes his shoulder. ”Hey. You’ll wake up naked in an alley somewhere if I leave you like this. Maybe even wake up dead. Come on. Doubt Jimmy’ll like you spending the night on his floor.”
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