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For all his pink grass cloak and hat drew some odd looks, Viltre had landed on his feet in Sauti. What little time he'd spent at the border had been... instructive. Merle had been trying to havr him waylaid ever since she learned he wasn't so much on her side as the Kavensei's. Every time one of her highly trained 'aides' got close enough to do something unpleasant, something or some things, went wrong. He was good to his Friends, so they in turn kept an eye out for him. Outside the Tale, he lacked that protection, but she hadn't seemed to realize that as yet.

The city of Tind seemed the best place to get started for a variety of reasons. It was close, for one thing, and his kin had a trading post here, for another. With any luck, he might pick up someone to watch his back, and get some of the groundwork for his little enterprise underway in the process. A Friend who came here on business had already done some asking around, leaving him with a list of potentially amenable people to winnow through.

At the moment, he was taking a short break, propped up against the wall and trying some of the local street food. That, of course, was when the next name on his list went and chose to ride on by. The description fit, as did that black janarim. At least they gave me.a wrapper. bootheels clicked off the building as he moved to follow for the moment. Had to confirm before he approached...

For all his naturally quiet tread, the reed-cloaked man was not making any particular effort to go unnoticed. Fittingly at the moment, as being out in the open lowered his chances of being inconvenienced by pointy objects. Didn't eliminate them, mind, but his mother's agents would be keen to minimize any chance of mistakes after their string of freak failures.

From what talk he'd been able to overhear, it was confirmed. This woman was the next name on the list. Not the best, but eager to improve, hungry for it. Longer weapon than I've got experience with, gives me more room to maneuver. While he'd taken to wearing a slim smallsword, it still wasn't a particularly intimidating weapon. And avoiding conflict tended to make his job easier.

So far, she seemed to fit the criteria he'd set. Once her conversation was concluded, the Leaf man strolled up, stopping just outside of snapping range of her mount. "Afternoon, Miss. Apologies; I think he might be on about me. Variel, I take it? My name's Viltre." A pair of fingers raised the wide brim of his hat, revealing a cheeky smile and a twinkling eye.

The hat rose further, sweeping off his head and revealing the rest of it. Pink reeds rested before his chest, the hat and cloak rustling as they brushed one another. Good manners helped a first impression. That it was another disposable layer between his body and all those barely-concealed teeth was a bonus. "To put it plain, I find myself with a problem to fit your expertise. Your name's on a few lips in martial circles, and I've been keeping an ear open to them. Word gets around when talent is involved."

A modest shrug, as knowing things was half his business. The other involved finding them out. "I'm going to be traveling around and I'm finding it unwise to keep at it alone. So I have a business proposition to put to you. Would you be interested in steady work, or have I exhausted your patience?" Again, that smile flashed above twinkly eyes. There was no threat in his posture, relaxed and calm. No step back from her mount's displeasure, either.

A nod, before glancing to the road ahead. There's that hunger I've been looking for. "We can walk and talk, right? Better than standing around in the middle of the road." His long shanks, should she have Xarthin get moving once more, ate up distance enough to keep up with a little striding. Height had some advantages out here in the mountains. "Thanks to family drama, my dear sweet mother is doing her best to have me killed. You can imagine how inconvenient I'd find being dead. Her agents have been pretty tough so far, and even I can't outsmart 'em forever.

So, before I have some tragic accident, I need someone along who can handle a fair fight." He paused to let consideration cross his face. Measure it. Not all at once. "And probably a lot of unfair fights after that." He'd been doing most of the verbal talking so far, but those twinkly greens of his missed very little of what her stance and look said. She was looking for a scam, taking him in still. "There's things I'm not saying, 'course, but that's to do with the drama I mentioned, not the situation standing."

"Doesn't she just? It's those personal touches that show she cares." With the pace picking back up, the hat went back on his head, though tilted up towards Variel. Had to make sure she could still hear the man and all. Her beast could probably smell the disquiet off of him, but nothing else in his movement would betray it. Which at least might mark him smart prey, if it came to that. Showing fear would have been a terrible idea. "Her idiot grudges aside, I've got business in this part of the world. Ain't got the spare time to die, y'know?

You'll be paid for your time an' effort, no fear there. May I ask where you're stayin'? Would prefer to talk numbers indoors, if it's all the same to you. Rather not paint another target on my back." The reeds rustled about his shoulders while a hand slipped up the front. From beneath his shirt and cloak, the green pendant was revealed. The sigil put to plain view. If she'd been anywhere around the south end of town, the warrior might well have seen the rune before. Kavensei did have a trading post here, and managed a fairly brisk business with the capramel market in Tind. An employer from a merchant clan could likely pay whatever fee was settled on.

"I've heard the name. It's got a taproom, if we could talk there?" Should she assent, they could stroll down the road in relative silence. It wasn't all that far; she'd nearly completed the circuit already...

- - - - - - - - - - -

The inn's taproom was, in contrast to the stereotypical shady har, open and well-ventilated. Light came in through the windows, warming the atmosphere as the welcoming hearth warmed the air. A decent crowd for the time of day filled it with a background hum in chatter and laughter. Rather than sit in the shaded corners, Viltre had secured a table somewhere in the middle. ...After a subtle sweep of the surrounding table, of course. With a seat chosen and drinks ordered, he hung his reed outerwear on the back of the chair and sat. "Starting offer is 58 gold a week. Just the opening, we can hammer out the details an' expenses.

With some money on the table, it was time to put more details down beside it. "Can tell you what you'd be dealing with. The people, anyway. Wildlife's a given. The agents often do the catspaw thing, hire local toughs. Sometimes there's honest bandits thinking a skinny merchant an easy mark. Usually I can talk my way around or slip either of them. The men themselves, not so much. They've got decent minds and they're motivated to use them by more than coin. My mother's always been good at incentives."

The smile widened, merry eyes sharpening without losing their twinkle. He was, after all, a merchant's son. Gold was designed to change hands, as any merchant knew, and the spirit of it was a vain thing. It loved nothing more than to be haggled over. "Spoken like a woman who knows the value of time. As, so it happens, do I, and I'm currently investing in my own ventures. As I build, we'll have more in the way of available resources.

More to the point, almost all of the folk that want me smiling from the belly keep coin on them or at some nearby bolthole. And I'm uniquely qualified to liquify solid wealth, or return distinctive pieces to grateful owners. Sixty-five, with bonuses." Dead men had little need of cash, and wetwork paid well. No sense wasting it. The more she spoke, the more of the lady's mannerisms he observed. Even if he took a loss, this was a profitable conversation.