“Do we look like charity to you?â€
Raffe Gorne, the Midlander Brass Blade, looked at the paladin incredulously. He seemed neither the charitable nor the altruistic sort.
“It is not charity if one pays for it,†Roen retorted. “You can ask the two men that relinquished it to me.†She made a vague gesture into the crowd of miners, not really attempting to locate the specific faces. She’d rather not have Raffe talk to them; she was fairly certain the wagon did not belong to them either. It was then that she spotted Nero exiting out of the building. She spared the smuggler a quick glance before turning her attention back to the Brass Blade.
Raffe did not bother to follow her gesture, his attention remaining on the paladin. “We got uses for this wagon. And what supplies? I don’t see any supplies for the refugees here.â€
“It is not here, exactly.†Roen shrugged, keeping her tone casual. That was not a lie either. She actually had no idea where it was, but he did not have to know that. “But that is what I need it for. I paid for the wagon, and I will be renting a chocobo from the stables, I will have the wagon back before sundown.â€
“Yer not actually goin’ tae believe her, are ye, Raffe?†Louvel grumbled from behind the Midlander, still clutching his hand with the broken finger. His glare was an angry one.
“Shut up, Louvel.†Raffe held a silencing hand up toward the Highlander without looking at him. The look he gave Roen was a sly, greedy one. “If you paid the men, now you gotta pay us. Deneith was it? I remember your name. Being you were one of us once, you know how this works.†He held out a hand towards her as if expectant.
Roen sighed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, those men I bargained with demanded most of what I had. I need what I have left for the mount.†She tilted her head, glancing between Raffe and Louvel, even though she knew the answer before she even asked. “Perhaps you can seek out the men and share the profit?â€
The Midlander threw his head back and laughed. “You… aren’t serious right? Did you forget how things work?â€
“She’s the one that Stank dealt with!†Louvel snarled. “The ex-Sworn who thinks she’s too good for the Blades.†He spat on the ground.
“Never did get that lesson right,†Roen said dryly, crossing her arms.
Raffe glanced between the Highlander and the paladin, cocking his head in her direction. “Pay up, or the wagon stays.â€
“I paid for it. I am taking it. The wagon is not even registered with the Blades.†Roen gave Raffe then Louvel a pointed look. They had illegally confiscated it after all. “Right?â€
The corner of Raffe’s lips twitched, then quickly turned downward. “Well. Looks like you are going to get another one of those lessons today. You forgot quick how we deal with rabble rousers around here. Time for a reminder.â€
Roen exhaled a patient sigh, even as she silently gauged the Blade in front of her. A bit portly in the midsection, his feet dragged slightly on the dirt, and he was resting on his heels. The chainmail would make him slower but harder to hit any vital organs. His face bore no scars, his cheekbones pristine and symmetrical; there was no sign that he was a toughened fighter. Many times those that sought out this line of extortion was looking to avoid fighting by targeting innocent merchants and helpless travelers. At least, that is what she hoped.
The paladin arched her brows as she saw Raffe’s fingers curl around the hilt of his scimitar. “Are you going to need your sword to teach me a lesson?†She held out her hands, as if to make it plain she was unarmored and unarmed. Her voice remained steady, even; she was issuing no challenge.
But there was no fear either.
The Midlander Blade paused, hesitant to let go of his blade. His upper lip paled as he pursed it, and Roen knew it was his pride fighting his caution. The fact that he did not want to relinquish his weapon at all boded well. He was likely--as she had been--relying solely on the skills of sword and shield in a fight. Raffe gave the Highlander behind him a half glance, as if reminded of his taunt earlier, then unbuckled his belt.
“Nope.†Raffe tossed his belt and weapon to the side. “You’re just a girl. Ain’t no way you’re beating me," he declared as he drew himself up, as if to make himself look bigger. He was sizing her up as he approached, but his gait remained full of swagger. He did not even raise his fists in front of him in any kind of a defensive stance. Raffe did not expect anything of her at all.
Louvel roared with laughter.
The Highlander Blade was turning crimson with amusement, his uninjured hand pointing at the fellow Brass Blade in front of him.
Raffe sat on the ground, leaning against the piled crates. He wore an expression that was half dazed and half humiliation. His perfect cheekbones were no longer pristine, his lip was split and his temple and jaw were sporting a growing welt.
The Highlander's legs were splayed out in front of him. His entire torso was encased in a barrel, the top lid removed to allow his head to protrude from it.
“Ya didn’t just have to sit there and watch.†Raffe scowled.
“HAR!†the Highlander snorted, slapping his knee with his good hand. “Because ye needed help with a girl.â€
“And you did better?!†Raffe shot back.
Louvel paused, and the two men stared at each other.
“Are ye goin’ tae report this?â€
Raffe swallowed, his expression turning sour.
“Sure,†he grumbled after a long moment. "Sometime next year. Unless you're going to."
"Nae."
Louvel and Raffe just looked at each other. They both sighed.
A long minute of silence passed.
Louvel finally looked back at Raffe. "Unless ye really think we should--"
"Never. Now help me out of this already!â€
Raffe Gorne, the Midlander Brass Blade, looked at the paladin incredulously. He seemed neither the charitable nor the altruistic sort.
“It is not charity if one pays for it,†Roen retorted. “You can ask the two men that relinquished it to me.†She made a vague gesture into the crowd of miners, not really attempting to locate the specific faces. She’d rather not have Raffe talk to them; she was fairly certain the wagon did not belong to them either. It was then that she spotted Nero exiting out of the building. She spared the smuggler a quick glance before turning her attention back to the Brass Blade.
Raffe did not bother to follow her gesture, his attention remaining on the paladin. “We got uses for this wagon. And what supplies? I don’t see any supplies for the refugees here.â€
“It is not here, exactly.†Roen shrugged, keeping her tone casual. That was not a lie either. She actually had no idea where it was, but he did not have to know that. “But that is what I need it for. I paid for the wagon, and I will be renting a chocobo from the stables, I will have the wagon back before sundown.â€
“Yer not actually goin’ tae believe her, are ye, Raffe?†Louvel grumbled from behind the Midlander, still clutching his hand with the broken finger. His glare was an angry one.
“Shut up, Louvel.†Raffe held a silencing hand up toward the Highlander without looking at him. The look he gave Roen was a sly, greedy one. “If you paid the men, now you gotta pay us. Deneith was it? I remember your name. Being you were one of us once, you know how this works.†He held out a hand towards her as if expectant.
Roen sighed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, those men I bargained with demanded most of what I had. I need what I have left for the mount.†She tilted her head, glancing between Raffe and Louvel, even though she knew the answer before she even asked. “Perhaps you can seek out the men and share the profit?â€
The Midlander threw his head back and laughed. “You… aren’t serious right? Did you forget how things work?â€
“She’s the one that Stank dealt with!†Louvel snarled. “The ex-Sworn who thinks she’s too good for the Blades.†He spat on the ground.
“Never did get that lesson right,†Roen said dryly, crossing her arms.
Raffe glanced between the Highlander and the paladin, cocking his head in her direction. “Pay up, or the wagon stays.â€
“I paid for it. I am taking it. The wagon is not even registered with the Blades.†Roen gave Raffe then Louvel a pointed look. They had illegally confiscated it after all. “Right?â€
The corner of Raffe’s lips twitched, then quickly turned downward. “Well. Looks like you are going to get another one of those lessons today. You forgot quick how we deal with rabble rousers around here. Time for a reminder.â€
Roen exhaled a patient sigh, even as she silently gauged the Blade in front of her. A bit portly in the midsection, his feet dragged slightly on the dirt, and he was resting on his heels. The chainmail would make him slower but harder to hit any vital organs. His face bore no scars, his cheekbones pristine and symmetrical; there was no sign that he was a toughened fighter. Many times those that sought out this line of extortion was looking to avoid fighting by targeting innocent merchants and helpless travelers. At least, that is what she hoped.
The paladin arched her brows as she saw Raffe’s fingers curl around the hilt of his scimitar. “Are you going to need your sword to teach me a lesson?†She held out her hands, as if to make it plain she was unarmored and unarmed. Her voice remained steady, even; she was issuing no challenge.
But there was no fear either.
The Midlander Blade paused, hesitant to let go of his blade. His upper lip paled as he pursed it, and Roen knew it was his pride fighting his caution. The fact that he did not want to relinquish his weapon at all boded well. He was likely--as she had been--relying solely on the skills of sword and shield in a fight. Raffe gave the Highlander behind him a half glance, as if reminded of his taunt earlier, then unbuckled his belt.
“Nope.†Raffe tossed his belt and weapon to the side. “You’re just a girl. Ain’t no way you’re beating me," he declared as he drew himself up, as if to make himself look bigger. He was sizing her up as he approached, but his gait remained full of swagger. He did not even raise his fists in front of him in any kind of a defensive stance. Raffe did not expect anything of her at all.
Louvel roared with laughter.
The Highlander Blade was turning crimson with amusement, his uninjured hand pointing at the fellow Brass Blade in front of him.
Raffe sat on the ground, leaning against the piled crates. He wore an expression that was half dazed and half humiliation. His perfect cheekbones were no longer pristine, his lip was split and his temple and jaw were sporting a growing welt.
The Highlander's legs were splayed out in front of him. His entire torso was encased in a barrel, the top lid removed to allow his head to protrude from it.
“Ya didn’t just have to sit there and watch.†Raffe scowled.
“HAR!†the Highlander snorted, slapping his knee with his good hand. “Because ye needed help with a girl.â€
“And you did better?!†Raffe shot back.
Louvel paused, and the two men stared at each other.
“Are ye goin’ tae report this?â€
Raffe swallowed, his expression turning sour.
“Sure,†he grumbled after a long moment. "Sometime next year. Unless you're going to."
"Nae."
Louvel and Raffe just looked at each other. They both sighed.
A long minute of silence passed.
Louvel finally looked back at Raffe. "Unless ye really think we should--"
"Never. Now help me out of this already!â€
