WHO: GwenaΓ«lle Baudin, Nell Voss, Marcoulf Ricart, Lakshmi Bai & possibly another. WHAT: An escort mission in southern Orlais. WHEN: This month. WHERE: Halamshiral, the Dales. NOTES: Sub-headers in the comments.
[ She's there at the appointed time and place that they're to set out from, if not a good hour early out of some pent-up need to be moving already. The horse's reign wrapped around her off hand - a sturdy roan animal she'd picked out of the Gallows' stables. Leave those big and burly chevaliers to their war beasts. She would be far happier with a creature that could take a long journey well. To that, she has infinite affection and care.
The rest, she goes over her saddlebags one last time, making sure she's prepared for the journey before she leaves. Provisions, for her and her beast, sleeping gear. Weapons ( sword, bow, strapped to hip and against her back, a comfortable sure weight after years ) and the scale mail that seemed so popular amongst the Inquisition soldiers - and especially the heavy leather glove on her left hand she made sure not to dare to take off that hid that itching, pulsing mark. The other at least free as she tightened all her straps on last time - until she finds herself with company in the early hours of mostly quiet streets and lifts a hand in greeting to what she either hopes or suspects is one of the other hired men. Waiting expectantly for them.
If there was anything to say about this place, she was glad she did not have to fend off every idiot over-proud cock, that she had a right to bear arms just as he did. That she did not miss. ]
[ Approaching is a red-haired woman with a staff across her back, dark wood bound with leather and topped with a curved blade. She's walking alongside her horse, a dark palfrey with Inquisition tack and no great weight in her saddlebags. She lifts a hand in return, and halts a few feet off. ] I'm Voss. You don't sound much like a Marcoulf. Bai, was it?
[ Her smile of greeting is easy, and her own accent something vaguely reminiscent of Northern or Central Europe, though her hands (bare, anchor-less, freckled across the backs) mark her as a native. She tugs at her collar with one, peeling fabric away from skin. ]
I hope the others turn up soon. The faster we get on the road, the faster we're out of this damn swamp.
[ She nods in greeting, digging about the last bit in her own gear before - stop fussing, Rani, it will be fine - she finally relents. At this point she supposed, she was either prepared or she wasn't, she supposed.
So she reties everything and settles back. ] I hope so as well. I never did like waiting when I ought to be working.
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The rest, she goes over her saddlebags one last time, making sure she's prepared for the journey before she leaves. Provisions, for her and her beast, sleeping gear. Weapons ( sword, bow, strapped to hip and against her back, a comfortable sure weight after years ) and the scale mail that seemed so popular amongst the Inquisition soldiers - and especially the heavy leather glove on her left hand she made sure not to dare to take off that hid that itching, pulsing mark. The other at least free as she tightened all her straps on last time - until she finds herself with company in the early hours of mostly quiet streets and lifts a hand in greeting to what she either hopes or suspects is one of the other hired men. Waiting expectantly for them.
If there was anything to say about this place, she was glad she did not have to fend off every idiot over-proud cock, that she had a right to bear arms just as he did. That she did not miss. ]
Nell Voss? Or Ricart?
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[ Her smile of greeting is easy, and her own accent something vaguely reminiscent of Northern or Central Europe, though her hands (bare, anchor-less, freckled across the backs) mark her as a native. She tugs at her collar with one, peeling fabric away from skin. ]
I hope the others turn up soon. The faster we get on the road, the faster we're out of this damn swamp.
no subject
[ She nods in greeting, digging about the last bit in her own gear before - stop fussing, Rani, it will be fine - she finally relents. At this point she supposed, she was either prepared or she wasn't, she supposed.
So she reties everything and settles back. ] I hope so as well. I never did like waiting when I ought to be working.