Ul'dah, Alchemist's Guild
"Sign here, and here." The clerk had done all of this before a thousand times, and Lynch could sense her aggravation as he found himself fumbling to even hold a pen. After forty years, he had forgotten the occasionally brutal efficiency of the system could lead to many a cramped hand and ink-stained fingers.
"Annnnd . . . " She turned a page to reveal a piece of parchment that was only a blank page, and seemed mildly disappointed. "That should do it. Your license is cleared with the Guild. We'll provide you with a caravan and an inventory in a sennight's time."
"Not to the Shroud?" Lynch tried to sound as if this was a small thing, but feared the fear might be creeping into his voice. If it was, she was too bored to notice.
"Strictly to La Noscean ports and the Mor Dhona route to Ishgard," she repeated. "Accommodations for your partner included." Apparently this was a new feature for the guild's vendors, something to do with some personal epiphany on the part of the Guildmaster. Lynch didn't question; he merely applied to take immediate advantage of it.
He looked over his shoulder, where Carter dawdled near a railing, peering at various experiments. The thief hadn't wanted to be left alone. He rarely did, now, and it had taken some effort to convince him that being in a separate room was fine. There was no meeting of the eyes between them at this moment, nothing romantic like that. If he did happen to meet Lynch's gaze, he always looked nervous, as if he were apologizing for being too forward. That was fine.
There was no telling how long the two of them would last. They'd never even met before being pulled into the dark; theirs was a relationship born out of terror and the knowledge that everyone around them was even worse, just a frightened thief and an unlucky merchant. Mutual protection, as much as it was possible in the will of Neruhm, was the original goal. It had grown.
Perhaps it would not last long; better things that began in better circumstances had failed, and theirs had begun in the worst. But that it lasted at all had meant something all the same.Â
Even something good could come out of hell.
"Sign here, and here." The clerk had done all of this before a thousand times, and Lynch could sense her aggravation as he found himself fumbling to even hold a pen. After forty years, he had forgotten the occasionally brutal efficiency of the system could lead to many a cramped hand and ink-stained fingers.
"Annnnd . . . " She turned a page to reveal a piece of parchment that was only a blank page, and seemed mildly disappointed. "That should do it. Your license is cleared with the Guild. We'll provide you with a caravan and an inventory in a sennight's time."
"Not to the Shroud?" Lynch tried to sound as if this was a small thing, but feared the fear might be creeping into his voice. If it was, she was too bored to notice.
"Strictly to La Noscean ports and the Mor Dhona route to Ishgard," she repeated. "Accommodations for your partner included." Apparently this was a new feature for the guild's vendors, something to do with some personal epiphany on the part of the Guildmaster. Lynch didn't question; he merely applied to take immediate advantage of it.
He looked over his shoulder, where Carter dawdled near a railing, peering at various experiments. The thief hadn't wanted to be left alone. He rarely did, now, and it had taken some effort to convince him that being in a separate room was fine. There was no meeting of the eyes between them at this moment, nothing romantic like that. If he did happen to meet Lynch's gaze, he always looked nervous, as if he were apologizing for being too forward. That was fine.
There was no telling how long the two of them would last. They'd never even met before being pulled into the dark; theirs was a relationship born out of terror and the knowledge that everyone around them was even worse, just a frightened thief and an unlucky merchant. Mutual protection, as much as it was possible in the will of Neruhm, was the original goal. It had grown.
Perhaps it would not last long; better things that began in better circumstances had failed, and theirs had begun in the worst. But that it lasted at all had meant something all the same.Â
Even something good could come out of hell.
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Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine