Zhavi waited, back to the wall and eyes on the door. Stone Keep wasn't her usual fare. It was a step above the places she typically frequented, catering to those who tended to offer jobs rather than take them. It was crummy, sure, but it was the nice sort of crummy that spoke of faded grandeur and small wealth. Her kind wasn't welcome within its white-stone walls edged with marble and draped in carefully kept wall hangings. It was why she'd spent good coin at the ragpickers to dress herself in something that would allow her entrance and wouldn't see her booted out in the first five minutes. She'd have worn Joz's clothing but, yeah, that was a short fall to disaster. Mixing jobs was never good.
She was three drinks in, the edges of the buzz just starting to make itself present. The fourth drink she was taking her time with, nursing it so she could keep herself alert and on guard for her quarry. She knew that the 'tender was eyeing her up and thinking real hard about whether or not she should be left or spoken to. It was exactly for that reason that Zhavi had taken a long dip in the water, for all it was ruttin' freezing. She smelled of the sea, perfumed by the stink of fish and marine life, all salty powerful. But not offensive to sailors or dockmen. Naw, it was herself that was offensive: she'd look bedraggled even with a fresh coat of polish and spitshine to boot. She couldn't help that.
Normally, she wouldn't even try. But caught between her jobs as she was, short on sleep and a long list of things that needed doing, she didn't have much of a choice. Brindle had done his part tailing Maioh, and now it was her turn to ply the connection and work their target from another angle.
Enduring hostile stares and the occasional mutter wasn't new to Zhavi. She gritted her teeth, kept her expression bland, and waited. It was only a matter of time.
She was three drinks in, the edges of the buzz just starting to make itself present. The fourth drink she was taking her time with, nursing it so she could keep herself alert and on guard for her quarry. She knew that the 'tender was eyeing her up and thinking real hard about whether or not she should be left or spoken to. It was exactly for that reason that Zhavi had taken a long dip in the water, for all it was ruttin' freezing. She smelled of the sea, perfumed by the stink of fish and marine life, all salty powerful. But not offensive to sailors or dockmen. Naw, it was herself that was offensive: she'd look bedraggled even with a fresh coat of polish and spitshine to boot. She couldn't help that.
Normally, she wouldn't even try. But caught between her jobs as she was, short on sleep and a long list of things that needed doing, she didn't have much of a choice. Brindle had done his part tailing Maioh, and now it was her turn to ply the connection and work their target from another angle.
Enduring hostile stares and the occasional mutter wasn't new to Zhavi. She gritted her teeth, kept her expression bland, and waited. It was only a matter of time.
