They called her: "The Bitch."
And having seen her face, A'trus understood why. She just had this look of a woman that would screw you over first chance she got. The way she spoke, talked, and moved all just made her immediately unpleasant. Granted her words were polite but it was obviously all pleasantries. And A'trus got the feeling that whoever pissed this woman off would suffer before they got sent to the beyond. A'trus almost pitied this -Grimsong-.
"Now then," the Au Ra called the bitch said, her voice a confident, smug purr, like a cat that had discovered how to hunt mice with a canon and enjoyed it more than she should. The Bitch swirled her glass of red wine and took a sip. Her red hair fell about her red flesh as her snow white optics fluttered open to fix A'trus with a steely gaze. She was dressed in cloths that seemed almost a size too large for her, as if she was deliberately hiding her womanly curves.
"As we were discussing before that waiter interrupted," the Bitch sipped her glass of red wine as the sea breeze blew up from the waves below while she and A'trus sat in the Bismark. "The senior members of our organization want this Grimsong alive. We have evidence that you are among the best, so you'll be paid -very- handsomely for his retrieval. Simply apprehend the target and, once he is in your possession, we shall take him off your hands and fill it with coin. Simple, no?"
It was simple. That's why A'trus was apprehensive.
"And the catch is?" A'trus blinked, sipping his glass of water.
"Well," The Bitch mused as she put her glass down. "It's not so much a catch as an irony. I believe you recall the Red Wings."
A'trus raised an eyebrow and The Bitch chuckled before speaking.
"Don't be surprised we know about that little event. Our organization's leading members, combined, run a respectable percentage of the slaving ships, brothels, and drug dens in the Thanalan area. We are appropriately interconnected with the right people who are paid to look the other way. And its -amazing- what military officers will say to impress a lover while they are lusty."
A'trus grunted before he replied.
"Alright, so you know some things, what does this have to do with the Red Wings?"
The Bitch was silent a moment and then:
"Your target is currently residing with a splinter group named 'The Dauntless.' Former soldiers now thugs for hire."
"How ironic." A'trus mused.
"Indeed. And, considering your success with dealing with them last time, we selected you for this mission. You know the area, you've hunted them before, and we know the only reason you didn't collect all of them was because of politics."
"This isn't going to ensnare use back up -in- those politics I hope?" A'trus grunted and shifted.
The Bitch gave a disarming smile. Well it supposed to be. It only earned a raised eyebrow from A'trus.Â
"Not at all. Simply hunt him down and recover him for us."
A'trus turned his attention down to the large pile of papers she had handed him earlier. He simply nodded and then rose to feet.
"Leaving so soon? Our meals aren't even here yet?" The Bitch said, feigning sadness. A'trus flicked his tail.
"You must forgive me, but I would rather be working than sitting here. No offense, but I've never enjoyed politics or idle chatter."
A'trus slowly walked away as The Bitch shrugged and gave a small chuckle as she took another sip of her wine. The female lifted her hand to a small metal ring with a linkpearl that was welded to her horn. He pressed it and spoke.
"They've accepted the job. A'trus is already off to take care of it."
The Bitch nodded and crossed her legs as she listened to the chatter in the pearl.
"Oh, don't worry, this will be handled with my usual discretion."
There was a pause and she smiled at the voice that spoke into her horn.
"Oh yes, -that- type of discretion. I'll keep you and the rest of the council informed. See you soon."
And having seen her face, A'trus understood why. She just had this look of a woman that would screw you over first chance she got. The way she spoke, talked, and moved all just made her immediately unpleasant. Granted her words were polite but it was obviously all pleasantries. And A'trus got the feeling that whoever pissed this woman off would suffer before they got sent to the beyond. A'trus almost pitied this -Grimsong-.
"Now then," the Au Ra called the bitch said, her voice a confident, smug purr, like a cat that had discovered how to hunt mice with a canon and enjoyed it more than she should. The Bitch swirled her glass of red wine and took a sip. Her red hair fell about her red flesh as her snow white optics fluttered open to fix A'trus with a steely gaze. She was dressed in cloths that seemed almost a size too large for her, as if she was deliberately hiding her womanly curves.
"As we were discussing before that waiter interrupted," the Bitch sipped her glass of red wine as the sea breeze blew up from the waves below while she and A'trus sat in the Bismark. "The senior members of our organization want this Grimsong alive. We have evidence that you are among the best, so you'll be paid -very- handsomely for his retrieval. Simply apprehend the target and, once he is in your possession, we shall take him off your hands and fill it with coin. Simple, no?"
It was simple. That's why A'trus was apprehensive.
"And the catch is?" A'trus blinked, sipping his glass of water.
"Well," The Bitch mused as she put her glass down. "It's not so much a catch as an irony. I believe you recall the Red Wings."
A'trus raised an eyebrow and The Bitch chuckled before speaking.
"Don't be surprised we know about that little event. Our organization's leading members, combined, run a respectable percentage of the slaving ships, brothels, and drug dens in the Thanalan area. We are appropriately interconnected with the right people who are paid to look the other way. And its -amazing- what military officers will say to impress a lover while they are lusty."
A'trus grunted before he replied.
"Alright, so you know some things, what does this have to do with the Red Wings?"
The Bitch was silent a moment and then:
"Your target is currently residing with a splinter group named 'The Dauntless.' Former soldiers now thugs for hire."
"How ironic." A'trus mused.
"Indeed. And, considering your success with dealing with them last time, we selected you for this mission. You know the area, you've hunted them before, and we know the only reason you didn't collect all of them was because of politics."
"This isn't going to ensnare use back up -in- those politics I hope?" A'trus grunted and shifted.
The Bitch gave a disarming smile. Well it supposed to be. It only earned a raised eyebrow from A'trus.Â
"Not at all. Simply hunt him down and recover him for us."
A'trus turned his attention down to the large pile of papers she had handed him earlier. He simply nodded and then rose to feet.
"Leaving so soon? Our meals aren't even here yet?" The Bitch said, feigning sadness. A'trus flicked his tail.
"You must forgive me, but I would rather be working than sitting here. No offense, but I've never enjoyed politics or idle chatter."
A'trus slowly walked away as The Bitch shrugged and gave a small chuckle as she took another sip of her wine. The female lifted her hand to a small metal ring with a linkpearl that was welded to her horn. He pressed it and spoke.
"They've accepted the job. A'trus is already off to take care of it."
The Bitch nodded and crossed her legs as she listened to the chatter in the pearl.
"Oh, don't worry, this will be handled with my usual discretion."
There was a pause and she smiled at the voice that spoke into her horn.
"Oh yes, -that- type of discretion. I'll keep you and the rest of the council informed. See you soon."
