67th of Fall, 514 A.V.; 18th Bell
As Deltan stood in the musty warehouse entryway, he found himself reflecting on his life choices.
How had he gone from a somewhat comfortable life in Syliras, all but guaranteed a long-term job with a wealthy caravan, to a wretched mercenary in Sunberth who had to deal with people who would as soon slit his throat as give him a job? Choices.
First, he chose to teach a good friend of his the Flux in exchange for similar tutelage in Hypnotism. A good choice, at the time. Perfectly reasonable. The next choice hadn't been his. When their tutor found out, his friend had used his knowledge to likely cripple both of them. Nothing he could have done, there; very likely, it had saved his own life. After that, he'd fled the city foolishly with little more than a farewell to his mother. Fool he was, Deltan didn't think to go to a respectable city. Instead, he ended up in the filthiest, most despicable city in all of Mizahar.
In the end, Deltan supposed it didn't matter. The choices had been made, and there was naught for it but to carry on. If he had to work for scum, then so be it. As long as he eventually got the money to leave, he would be fine. Perhaps Zeltiva? It had seemed a nice enough place, as they'd hustled through to get to a ship. He should have gotten off there.
"Colari, Boss's waitin' for ya," A short man built like a brick wall (and colored like one) said, beckoning with a hand the size of a ham for him to follow. He didn't seem a bad sort...Just harsh.
Obediently, the young man pushed away from the doorway he'd been leaning in and followed along. They passed through the warehouse, passing blocky men and women moving heavy crates, large, empty cages of wrought iron, and barrels with symbols for danger on their sides. What sort of job was he trying out for, for the love of the gods?
Eventually, they made it to a door at the back of the warehouse, and the short man opened it and gestured him inside. With a nod of thanks, the bodyguard ducked inside.
Deltan was hit with a wave of smoke as he stepped inside, covering his mouth and coughing in the oppressive darkness. Training kicked in, and he glanced around to catch his bearings even as his eyes grew red and watery. It seemed to be a study of some sort, combined with a gambling den. On one side was a small desk covered in papers and maps, while the other was dominated by a large table with several men bent over it.
They were playing some odd game that involved both cards and dice, though Deltan had little interest in that. They took interest in him, though. The game stopped, and the large men all fixed him with hard stares, ready to pummel him if he gave them half an excuse.
Strongarms, then.
What held Deltan's interest was the short, balding man behind the desk. With spectacles and a pointed goatee, the man looked either like a ferret or like a goat. Deltan wasn't too sure. Those thoughts were kept quiet, regardless. Especially once the man said, "Deltan Colari, is it? I hear you are looking for a job." Yes, he was more like a ferret than a goat. His voice was sharp and nasally, a rodent's voice if Deltan had ever heard one.
"Yes, sir," the young man answered once he'd recovered from his coughing fit, standing straight and holding the man's gaze with his own watering eyes.
"Qualifications? Why should I hire a pup like you?"
Well, that was to the point. After a moment's thought, the young man approached the desk, stepping slowly and keeping his hands in plain sight of the men so he didn't get a knife in the ribs. "I'm smart, strong, and I can do anything you need me to do," Deltan answered, pushing his Djed onto the man. He sent a simple suggestion, quite straightforward and uncomplicated. Accept.
He would have used the "Trust" command, as it was the first he'd ever learned, but something told Deltan that making this man trust him would be harder than that. Acceptance, however, was more in line with his personality. After all, if Ferret over there hadn't been willing to hire Deltan on, then why would he be seeing the bodyguard in the first place?
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