Walking 'em Home

Job:

It was no secret that this town was more or less a guildless mage hideout, and Cara hoped that that fact would not complicate the mission she had picked for herself on this day. Talonia had a fair share of mages, for various reasons. There was the arena, where magic users competed, and then there was the black market, which boasted of all sorts of things… and they were usually mage related. It was no wonder they would be here, and she had to assume that there would also be quite a number of unscrupulous elements that could easily cause tyrouble.

The day was drawing to a close, and the sun sent its last majestic rays over the Western rim of the horizon. In about an hour, it would be dark, and Cara had since suggested to her client that the sooner they got on their way, the better. Her client, a gnomish looking man with a nasal accent, had waved her off, claiming that the streets were very safe, and all he required was someone to see him to his doorstep. Cara nodded, her expression however showing that she did not quite agree with him.

”Yes. You do know that this place is populated with all sorts of people who might want to rob you blind, if given the chance.”

”Isn’t that why I hired you?” he countered, his voice betraying a hint of irritation.

Cara smiled at him in reply. ”Of course it is. For a ‘D’ ranked mission, with commensurate pay.” She paused, then continued, a hint of mischief in her voice. ”You do know, though, that darkness brings out the more dangerous and insidious ones, people who could fry you to a smoldering cinder with but a finger click. And I might not be able to protect you, not really because I’m not being paid enough, but frankly because I just might be unable to.”

The man looked peeved. ”I should have looked for a stronger mage,” he muttered.

Cara maintained her sweet smile, unperturbed by the man’s uncivil attitude. ”With the amount you’re paying? Sorry, but I’m the best you can get at that price, dear sir.”

Some more series of grumblings followed, but the man began putting his shop in order in preparation to close for the night. Cara offered that he could still keep the shop open for the next hour, and helped him to arrange his wares. This brought the complaints to a minimum, but it so happened that they spent an extra two-and-a-half hours taking care of business. Thus, it was really dark when her client was ready to leave for home.

And now her job really began. It was dark, and the street lights offered the only reliable source of illumination that they could walk by. Cara maintained a position of about two steps behind the man, who complained at first, but had to settle for her decision. She was sure that if she walked beside him, he might try to engage her in discussion, and she would be distracted. And if she walked in front of him, she wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him.

"I think we made it," the gnomish man said, relief evident in his voice, as he pointed towards the end of the street. "My place is just at that end."

Cara barely heard him. She had been straining her ears for a while, because she was sure someone had been following them. She couldn't be sure, but it was likely a group that tailed them, rather than one person. As she listened for the sounds, her eyes scanned the area for anything she could use as a weapon... and then, a weapon appeared alright, but it was aimed for her head.

A brick sailed some inches before her face and lost itself in the gloom at the other side of the road. Cara was actually lucky that the thrower of the projectile was relatively piss-poor at aiming, otherwise, she might have found herself on the asphalt, nursing a broken crown. She looked to the source of the brick, and saw two young men, cackling like hyenas, as they pulled out of the shadows and came towards them. In an even voice, she called to her client, who reminded her of a scared rabbit: "Don't run!"

As the two punks approached them, acting all tough and dangerous, Cara concluded that if she was to make a guess on how dangerous these two were, the answer would be 'not very'. People who were more of a threat would act more and fool around less. They were still laughing, probably trying to instill fear in their targets. Mentally rolling her eyes, Cara held up her hands in a sign of no-offense, and walked towards them, all the while keeping her client in her peripheral vision, just in case there were more hecklers.

She could smell the alcohol on their breaths as they closed in. "Well, well, well, what do we... Goooomph!"

Nobody expected Cara to suddenly lunge forward and plant her foot straight in his belly in mid-sentence. Without missing a step, before her offending leg came to the ground, she flicked it upwards and into the second heckler's face. Then she took two steps back and said, "Assume I'm in a good mood, which is why I haven't bothered wasting my powers on you. You've got some nerve, throwing bricks at people without realizing who they are. Now, unless you want me to change my mind and do to you the first thing that crossed my mind when I saw that brick fly, you will make yourselves very scarce."

They obeyed, without a word. Inwardly, Cara laughed, relieved that they had only come across small fry. However, she couldn't be sure if the hecklers had come alone, so she hurried the shaken merchant the rest of the way, which fortunately, was not far. He was understandably relieved to get to the safety of his house, and he quickly got indoors, paid Cara what price they had agreed on, and bolted his door with many locks.

A town like this would have quite a number of inns and guest houses, so she wouldn't have an issue with where to spend the night. Also, it was easier for her to manage, now that she was alone. Still keeping alert, Cara turned and walked away, blending into the shadows to put less attention on herself. Another mission was accomplished. Hopefully soon, she would get more exciting ones.

WC: 1090/500