User blog:Illsanona/It's Just Business

You know those days where you are really just itching for something to happen? Everything just seems mundane and dawdling, and just about anything could make it exciting? It was one of those days, and I was in a rare mood.

No, who am I trying to fool? This was a very typical mood for me. I was looking for something to happen, and if it didn’t happen then I would make it happen. I blame this need on my father’s side of the family.

As I made my rounds through Stormwind, there was all the typical people in the typical places. After I could handle just about as much as I could of the typical preaching in front of the Cathedral, I made my way over to the Mage Quarter. This place always amuses me with wide range of, let’s call it “personalities”.

Of course if you need something on the shadier end there is always The Slaughtered Lamb. I always have to dress for the occasion to get in there, or I stand out like a, well a Paladin at a Rogue convention. Unfortunately, I was still in my plate. My leathers, yes I like to wear leather, were back at my Keep still. So that means The Slaughtered Lamb is off limits tonight.

The Blue Recluse, now this is a little less shady, but probably just as dirty. Great place to pick up someone for the evening without having to pay more than for a few drinks. Only slightly cheaper than just being honest with yourself and heading to Goldshire.

As I rounded the grassy path towards The Blue Recluse, I saw him standing there. Leaning oh so confidently against the wall. I smirked. He stood there glaring everyone down, heavily armored, face completely hidden, arms crossed like he had something to prove. Oh yeah, you know the type, and the night was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Game On.

Well, once I figured out what the game was. That was always the most interesting part. What made this man such a badass that he could feel like he could stand there and stare down complete strangers and how long until I crack him.

I walk by and smile. Now, I don’t know what it is about my smile, never actually been told it is a nice smile or anything, but that is generally enough to get the man’s attention either in good or bad way. He caught the smile, but barely reacted. Okay, that is fine. Time to get my shot of “bring it on confidence”. I continue my stroll to The Blue Recluse, order me a double of Bourbon and slam it. Ah, there it is, the warmth. Time to head back out.

Upon stepping out on the raised landing of the bar, I watched him a few moments. Still glaring folks down, pretending he is something greater than he is. I walk by again. This time lingering just a moment longer, letting him glare at me.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it is rude to stare?”

“If she did, it wasn’t on her gravestone.”

Oh, quick wit. Intrigued.

“Well, it’s not nice.”

“Who said I was nice?”

Now, I have been messing with these type for as long as I have learned what assets my mother blessed me with. This banter goes on a couple more rounds, and he isn’t budging. He is still staying as cold and hard as his stare. And that stupid mask is blocking his eyes! Usually I can at least see the eyes and catch if they wander. Knowing at least if I am making a crack. Damn it. Now it is a challenge.

So without getting a reaction from his body language, and he isn’t saying much, maybe I will try the business approach.

Eventually he tells me that he is in the freelance murder for hire game. You know, because that is soooo bleeding uncommon for these bad boys. But still, something about his lack of clear emotions and tone from his damn mask keeps me interested. He won’t even tell me his name. Just goes by C. Which I notice is also carved into his rifle. A rogue with a gun? That is a new one for me.

Okay, so what to do, what to do.

“So, do you also take on protection jobs?”

It was not something he had taken on in the past, but it seems to peak his interest. Excellent.

“What do you need protecting from?”

<span style="color:rgb(179,170,157);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:13.2px;font-weight:normal;line-height:18.48px;">Crap, he wants to know more information. I scramble and give him some line about how I am the leader of an Order and you just never know. And some other stuff that sounded half like it actually could be real. It seemed to work, he took the job. Terms were simple. I pay him for day and night protection, depending on what I needed. He quickly goes through the contract terms, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I sign it.

<span style="color:rgb(179,170,157);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:13.2px;font-weight:normal;line-height:18.48px;">Now, this gives me more time to crack him.

<span style="color:rgb(179,170,157);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:13.2px;font-weight:normal;line-height:18.48px;">Here is where I shall note to people  <u style="margin:0px;padding:0px;">always <span style="color:rgb(179,170,157);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:13.2px;font-weight:normal;line-height:18.48px;"> read the contract over in detail. There was some clauses that were rushed over and well, seems I am not the only one playing this game anymore.

<span style="color:rgb(179,170,157);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:13.2px;font-weight:normal;line-height:18.48px;"><<To Be Continued>>