Did a bad day excuse bad manners? Maybe, maybe not. Esme wasn’t truly concerned just yet. For all his foul mood, the elven mage wasn’t doing a whole lot but swaying and leaning in obvious discomfort. Until that changed, this was all rather tenable – as far as semi-anonymous drug deals went.
She endured his regard and examined what she could see of his face in turn. The loss of his eye must have been recent. Why else mention it? It lent him a slightly piratical air, darkly humorous alongside her false leg. Alas, the Toad and & Leech was miles from the sea.
“Mm. I’ll pass on your regards, stranger.” She dragged her stool a few inches closer to the wall of drawers, freeing the heavy mechanism that kept them from falling open when the wagon was in motion. Of all the ways he could pay for his lyrium … Well, gold seemed by far the safest choice.
“We’re in the same trade then.” Magic probably changed the job quite a bit. Better and worse – she’d seen how tired Byrne and Lelindin were after a bad fight. Must be a strange feeling though, trading in sharp knives and gut and potions for something more direct. And entirely beyond her.
“Gold’s fine – assuming you have enough on you.” That seemed … Rather unwise? Traveling with that amount of coin in your pockets while fucked up with the shakes. He looked like an easy mark for rough folk, magic or no.
Esme stopped pretending to search aimlessly and palmed the proper vial. It was about the length of her hand fingertip to wrist, heavy and cold, thick walled to protect the handler. Worth a fair bit to an addict with no other recourse, no doubt? Not her expertise, to be entirely truthful – she knew miles more about poppy or blood lotus. She held the container so he could see it, but made no move to hand it over yet.
“Probably ought to know each other's names before we put favors on the table. I’m Esme, alchemist and field surgeon for the Salamanders and the Dogs.”
She endured his regard and examined what she could see of his face in turn. The loss of his eye must have been recent. Why else mention it? It lent him a slightly piratical air, darkly humorous alongside her false leg. Alas, the Toad and & Leech was miles from the sea.
“Mm. I’ll pass on your regards, stranger.” She dragged her stool a few inches closer to the wall of drawers, freeing the heavy mechanism that kept them from falling open when the wagon was in motion. Of all the ways he could pay for his lyrium … Well, gold seemed by far the safest choice.
“We’re in the same trade then.” Magic probably changed the job quite a bit. Better and worse – she’d seen how tired Byrne and Lelindin were after a bad fight. Must be a strange feeling though, trading in sharp knives and gut and potions for something more direct. And entirely beyond her.
“Gold’s fine – assuming you have enough on you.” That seemed … Rather unwise? Traveling with that amount of coin in your pockets while fucked up with the shakes. He looked like an easy mark for rough folk, magic or no.
Esme stopped pretending to search aimlessly and palmed the proper vial. It was about the length of her hand fingertip to wrist, heavy and cold, thick walled to protect the handler. Worth a fair bit to an addict with no other recourse, no doubt? Not her expertise, to be entirely truthful – she knew miles more about poppy or blood lotus. She held the container so he could see it, but made no move to hand it over yet.
“Probably ought to know each other's names before we put favors on the table. I’m Esme, alchemist and field surgeon for the Salamanders and the Dogs.”
05-07-2024, 03:39 PM
