McIan
Journeyman
“What are you doing in here?” Scar inquired, sternly addressing a stranger who was in the archon’s office alone. “This room is off limits except for town leaders and officials,” he explained, his hand resting on the hilt of his kryss. They were standing in the archon’s office above Pier 39 in Papua. It was early evening, the sun had set, and Scar, who had been below, heard footsteps in the room overhead.
“Oh, I was just curious to see what was up here, that’s all,” the man replied, closing the dresser drawer he had been peering into. He stepped away from it to face Scar.
“What is your name?”
“Toby. Toby Gillens. I’m one of the mercenaries who answered Papua’s call for help.”
Scar snorted. “There was never any call sent out. You all just showed up one day offering sword arm. I figured you for spectators or rogues looking for easy pickings while everyone was not watching. Looks like I was right.”
The man smiled, extending his arms as a sign of defenselessness. “You have me wrong, friend. I am on the payroll. Ask the archon. He hired me on.”
“I don’t care if Blackthorn himself hired you; you have no business up here and should know that. You will wait here with me until the archon arrives, which is any moment, now that he has checked the nightly defenses.”
Toby moved forward slowly. “Now friend, this is silly. I told you I was just curious. There’s no need to get upset and overreact.”
Scar drew his kryss in the blink of an eye, pointing it at the man’s face. “The only overreaction will be you taking another step, “friend.”
Backing up, Toby held up his hands. “Whoa! There’s no need for threats! I can wait here. No problem.” Then, with the speed of a panther, he whirled around and leaped out one of the open windows behind him.
By the time Scar moved to the window, the man was gone, uninjured apparently, having fled into the shadows.
“Oh, I was just curious to see what was up here, that’s all,” the man replied, closing the dresser drawer he had been peering into. He stepped away from it to face Scar.
“What is your name?”
“Toby. Toby Gillens. I’m one of the mercenaries who answered Papua’s call for help.”
Scar snorted. “There was never any call sent out. You all just showed up one day offering sword arm. I figured you for spectators or rogues looking for easy pickings while everyone was not watching. Looks like I was right.”
The man smiled, extending his arms as a sign of defenselessness. “You have me wrong, friend. I am on the payroll. Ask the archon. He hired me on.”
“I don’t care if Blackthorn himself hired you; you have no business up here and should know that. You will wait here with me until the archon arrives, which is any moment, now that he has checked the nightly defenses.”
Toby moved forward slowly. “Now friend, this is silly. I told you I was just curious. There’s no need to get upset and overreact.”
Scar drew his kryss in the blink of an eye, pointing it at the man’s face. “The only overreaction will be you taking another step, “friend.”
Backing up, Toby held up his hands. “Whoa! There’s no need for threats! I can wait here. No problem.” Then, with the speed of a panther, he whirled around and leaped out one of the open windows behind him.
By the time Scar moved to the window, the man was gone, uninjured apparently, having fled into the shadows.