”I could get you– ah. Nevermind.” Esmé watched Genthus wipe sauce on his bare belly, then shot Ceren a sidelong glance. It was awfully difficult to make sense of her friend’s earlier pronouncement, simple as it was. What she saw was … What? A slob? A fool? Still, his help came freely and without complaint. She cast one final fond glance at their home and followed the others out into the daylight. Lowtown’s endemic life was ready to pick over the corpse and she wished them some use of it.
The busy streets would have been overwhelming on her own, but the giant Qunari cut them a clear path all the way to the city’s landward gates. Esmé regarded the curiosity of her horse already hitched to an unfamiliar wagon. A matched set, Domino and the other beast were very much not. She pet the gelding’s velvety nose and relaxed as Caro appeared from around the back. No need to cut the traces and run. Yet.
”No mules? You know, when you said I ought to buy a horse, I thought to be riding it.” Her tone was mild, self-conscious that complaining five minutes into the new job was surely impolite. Yet at the same time – what was he going to do, fire her? They were a small company already. Just, it had taken a lot of curatives sold to people that could hardly afford them to pay for a proper mount. Shrugging, Esmé made an elaborate showing of patting down her pockets for nonexistent weapons. The mage must have stowed his staff already.
With some difficulty, Esmé climbed up onto the front bench and sat next to Caro. What did inconspicuous look like, half-naked giant aside? A wife or sister, perhaps. She pulled her cloak up to hide her hair, and angled herself as if to converse with the mage. Her eyes followed Ceren, though. She was the role model from which to take all her cues in this bizarre situation.
Unfortunately, Cer and Rabbit had a job to do – one that would keep her out of easy conversation once they were underway. Esmé would have to find her own footing with the others. The wagon rumbled forward, and she peered up as they left the city. Kirkwall’s gloomy architecture gradually receded behind them. She tried to tell the beginning of their caravan by sight, but the road was still too crowded. The sweaty barnyard odor of too many people and animals was markedly distinct from the slums of Lowtown but no more pleasant.
She studied Caro openly now, once the first empty winter field had rolled by and set the tone. In some ways, he was very much the opposite of cheerful, even-keeled Genthus. Clever and slightly off putting, varying wildly between subdued and intense. Right now, paradoxically both. Like he was in his head about something.
”So … When do you expect trouble? And what kind, I guess.”
The busy streets would have been overwhelming on her own, but the giant Qunari cut them a clear path all the way to the city’s landward gates. Esmé regarded the curiosity of her horse already hitched to an unfamiliar wagon. A matched set, Domino and the other beast were very much not. She pet the gelding’s velvety nose and relaxed as Caro appeared from around the back. No need to cut the traces and run. Yet.
”No mules? You know, when you said I ought to buy a horse, I thought to be riding it.” Her tone was mild, self-conscious that complaining five minutes into the new job was surely impolite. Yet at the same time – what was he going to do, fire her? They were a small company already. Just, it had taken a lot of curatives sold to people that could hardly afford them to pay for a proper mount. Shrugging, Esmé made an elaborate showing of patting down her pockets for nonexistent weapons. The mage must have stowed his staff already.
With some difficulty, Esmé climbed up onto the front bench and sat next to Caro. What did inconspicuous look like, half-naked giant aside? A wife or sister, perhaps. She pulled her cloak up to hide her hair, and angled herself as if to converse with the mage. Her eyes followed Ceren, though. She was the role model from which to take all her cues in this bizarre situation.
Unfortunately, Cer and Rabbit had a job to do – one that would keep her out of easy conversation once they were underway. Esmé would have to find her own footing with the others. The wagon rumbled forward, and she peered up as they left the city. Kirkwall’s gloomy architecture gradually receded behind them. She tried to tell the beginning of their caravan by sight, but the road was still too crowded. The sweaty barnyard odor of too many people and animals was markedly distinct from the slums of Lowtown but no more pleasant.
She studied Caro openly now, once the first empty winter field had rolled by and set the tone. In some ways, he was very much the opposite of cheerful, even-keeled Genthus. Clever and slightly off putting, varying wildly between subdued and intense. Right now, paradoxically both. Like he was in his head about something.
”So … When do you expect trouble? And what kind, I guess.”
03-21-2024, 04:01 PM
