goon squad

Tsk Aloys said so lowly under his breath that only Nyllian - who was closer - might have heard it, while he became fascinated in picking some dried mud off of his trousers. They loved their little jokes, perhaps, they needed them in some way to feel a little more in charge if laying waste to western Antiva wasn't enough. Aloys still didn't know which of the two women had the final say.

As far as colleagues went, though, he'd suffered their types before. Avorra, she reminded Aloys of a blacksmith he knew who fixed slave chains.

Nyllian, shem-hating as she was, had so much in common with an elderly Elvish woman who returned to work for her master after he freed her. Odd how their personalities overlapped.

Aloys flicked his attention back towards Avorra as she twisted her voice out of dryness and into softness. Like a shocked snake backed into a whole by a mongoose, her attempt at sexuality made her seem less like a whore and more like a cannibal. A moment later, he gathered himself, tilted his head to the side, looking her up and down, and then, he smiled toothily.

A pleasure to be of service, sir, I live to please. His grin grew shit-eatingly, as he let his Orlesian accent hang looser, and he rose and swept into a courtesanly bow. You honor me with your fiery appetite. There has been no greater day, not even the day of my freedom.

But a second later, Nyllian wailled to him about how his whole job got in her way of slaying and necromancing, puttering with all sorts of extra words and long bored expressions to emphasize her point.

You could interview me about my political ambitions and whatever a lowly man as I would know of the importance of intelligence for military strategy first, if you want this to take even longer. Or, I could just say, it is so our leader can hear from his precious generals, and all about the great feats they have done in his name. As he spoke, he found a bit of flat rubble and spread the ledger smooth. He meticulously piled rocks and bones onto the corners to hold their edges down from the wind. He pulled out a pen, fussed with the nib, then selected a fresh one with a grudge on his face. Which do you want?