Warren listened as the man poured his story out, rough trappings and all. She was a good girl, meant well and resisted the family inheritance - near nothing, as anyone had to offer in Ul'dah - but she wasn't the sort to set out on her own. Too timid on her own was Arla, too quiet and too bashful. The girl might resent being resigned to open a stall to peddle wares, but she weren't the type to run off without a word. So spoke Master Armistahl, and so listened Warren Castille.
"She's not that kinda lass, I swears, sir," begged the trader. Bald before his normal years and beckoning with large, strong hands the trader looking to the Free Paladin for assistance. He'd heard of the knight prior to someone's little girl gone missing and sought the name out. It wasn't too hard to find in Ul'dah, not with the Grindstone as it was.
Warren had listened to the plea - A woman missing, young but not a child, yet not a matron, and it was unlike her to set out on her own. Something had gone wrong, and she'd gone missing, he was sure of it. A description didn't yield much - a fair haired, peasant maiden by the sounds of it - but Warren couldn't well ignore it. The Brass Blades would hear out a report of a missing person, but they'd only press it if a fairly sum were attached and in the case of Miss Arla Armistahl there was no wage, no price, no pay. This was a person who'd up and turned out, and there was no one else willing to look beyond her immediate family.
"Exploitation, sir," Warren offered as a despondent father poured out his guts. "You've some worth, and she is worth more to you yet. We'll see her home safe and sound, even if I've got to pay the difference to lure them out." Warren couldn't refuse a beckoning so personal, and he felt for the father's grievance; He was hardly worth blackmailing and the scandal wasn't worth of even the worse-off papers.
"Please, sir..." The elder Armistahl was barely able to keep his head up, his eyes heavy weights inside of his whites. "Please help my daughter..."
"I'll see her home," the paladin offered. He believed it at the time.
"She's not that kinda lass, I swears, sir," begged the trader. Bald before his normal years and beckoning with large, strong hands the trader looking to the Free Paladin for assistance. He'd heard of the knight prior to someone's little girl gone missing and sought the name out. It wasn't too hard to find in Ul'dah, not with the Grindstone as it was.
Warren had listened to the plea - A woman missing, young but not a child, yet not a matron, and it was unlike her to set out on her own. Something had gone wrong, and she'd gone missing, he was sure of it. A description didn't yield much - a fair haired, peasant maiden by the sounds of it - but Warren couldn't well ignore it. The Brass Blades would hear out a report of a missing person, but they'd only press it if a fairly sum were attached and in the case of Miss Arla Armistahl there was no wage, no price, no pay. This was a person who'd up and turned out, and there was no one else willing to look beyond her immediate family.
"Exploitation, sir," Warren offered as a despondent father poured out his guts. "You've some worth, and she is worth more to you yet. We'll see her home safe and sound, even if I've got to pay the difference to lure them out." Warren couldn't refuse a beckoning so personal, and he felt for the father's grievance; He was hardly worth blackmailing and the scandal wasn't worth of even the worse-off papers.
"Please, sir..." The elder Armistahl was barely able to keep his head up, his eyes heavy weights inside of his whites. "Please help my daughter..."
"I'll see her home," the paladin offered. He believed it at the time.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
