"So, let me make sure I have this right, sir." The tone was very tense and not a little sarcastic. More so then was probably needed given the situation. Of course, it was to be expected; it wasn't often one walked up to a complete stranger (in a manner) and asked them to tell you about a group of people in what was more or less a Free Company that was relatively private. "You want to know about the Free Company Crooked Tarot is working with right now? Why? You owe him money?"
"Not quite," the stranger replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He had nice full shoulders; a handsome face that was set with a look of trained discipline--enough years to know what he was doingf but not enough years to look terribly old. He had to be brushing thirty, but his bearing made him seem a bit older. He didn't stand out much from other adventurers. A long rapier on his belt, two daggers--the usual. His dignity and bearing marked him as maybe someone who had military experience? That was possible, the blacksmith thought as he regarded the stranger.
"You got a deathwish then? Cause trifling with Crooked Tarot when you're not wanted is a financial deathwish--hell, trifling with him WHEN you're wanted is a financial deathwish!"
"This is less a matter of debt or business and simply a friendly visit. I am only passing through Ul'dah and would like to see who he is working with at the moment. That is all. I was told you have regular business meetings with him and so, here I am."
The man ran a hand through his shortly-cropped hair, the sandy brown catching hints of faded gold in the bright sunlight of the city in the desert. There was only the vaguest signs f sweat on his brow; the man wasn't quite used to this weather yet.
"Well, if you're that insistent, then he's working with some group of arses called the 'Astral Agents'. Have a house out in the Goblet. Got a buncha training dummies out front, near the edge of the goblet on the canyon side. You can't miss it."
The blacksmith had to wonder why Tarot, a man with all that money, would slum it in a tiny house like that, rather than dipping in with one of the more massive houses that were literally right down the street. Eh, maybe his reputation preceeded him--Hells knew that it did in nearly every other city.
"Thank you for your time," the stranger bowed, his hand resting comfortably on his rapier. "You are a credit to this city and its ability to inform."
"Why does that not sound like a compliment...?" the blacksmith muttered as he watched the stranger depart, the man's gait as practiced as disciplined as the rest of him--no energy wasted with THAT walk, that was certain.
"Gods I need to stop talking to strangers..." the man added before returning to his work.
"Not quite," the stranger replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He had nice full shoulders; a handsome face that was set with a look of trained discipline--enough years to know what he was doingf but not enough years to look terribly old. He had to be brushing thirty, but his bearing made him seem a bit older. He didn't stand out much from other adventurers. A long rapier on his belt, two daggers--the usual. His dignity and bearing marked him as maybe someone who had military experience? That was possible, the blacksmith thought as he regarded the stranger.
"You got a deathwish then? Cause trifling with Crooked Tarot when you're not wanted is a financial deathwish--hell, trifling with him WHEN you're wanted is a financial deathwish!"
"This is less a matter of debt or business and simply a friendly visit. I am only passing through Ul'dah and would like to see who he is working with at the moment. That is all. I was told you have regular business meetings with him and so, here I am."
The man ran a hand through his shortly-cropped hair, the sandy brown catching hints of faded gold in the bright sunlight of the city in the desert. There was only the vaguest signs f sweat on his brow; the man wasn't quite used to this weather yet.
"Well, if you're that insistent, then he's working with some group of arses called the 'Astral Agents'. Have a house out in the Goblet. Got a buncha training dummies out front, near the edge of the goblet on the canyon side. You can't miss it."
The blacksmith had to wonder why Tarot, a man with all that money, would slum it in a tiny house like that, rather than dipping in with one of the more massive houses that were literally right down the street. Eh, maybe his reputation preceeded him--Hells knew that it did in nearly every other city.
"Thank you for your time," the stranger bowed, his hand resting comfortably on his rapier. "You are a credit to this city and its ability to inform."
"Why does that not sound like a compliment...?" the blacksmith muttered as he watched the stranger depart, the man's gait as practiced as disciplined as the rest of him--no energy wasted with THAT walk, that was certain.
"Gods I need to stop talking to strangers..." the man added before returning to his work.
![[Image: tumblr_na3nykiJYw1tj8x6po1_400.jpg]](https://31.media.tumblr.com/9aff6ba119629667e6fc2104ce65b848/tumblr_na3nykiJYw1tj8x6po1_400.jpg)
