Putting the Past Behind

[Virdrag Thunderclap]

Virdrag took all of this in, interested. A recruitment drive, asking random Drifters for help. It was a risky move. Many Drifter's tended to be spies, and asking them to join was sometimes like inviting your battle secrets to be betrayed. Yet, he liked the demeanor of this woman. She seemed honorable and sincere. He had a feeling he could trust this woman.


"As long as there are battles, I am there, and at a reasonable price. However, I am only good for fighting, and nothing else. I charge around five hundred Gold Pieces for every large battle, two hundred and fifty for every small battle. Skirimishes, when they occur, are a mere one hundred gold pieces."

[Nau'ren]

Nau'ren's horse snorted and shifted positions, the Lady's body shifting with the creature's. The Supreme Lady looked up to the other lady and said, "I never said that miss." She paused as her horse shifted again, then continued, "Look back to all of the wars and tell me which ones were started by the Navy." As she gave the miss time to think, she looked back over to the man, fully dressed and armored for an occation she was talking about.

The lady through back her head and laughed, her horse snorted with her master's sudden jerk in the saddle. Her hand gripped on the front of the saddle for balance. A huge grin on her face, the lady spoke, "Of course prices will be set! Money seems to run our world right now. Although, I have met quite a few of people who were never interested in money. Goes to show some people aren't like what you think they are like," she said, looking back over to the miss, obviously hinting the last sentence to her.

It was palpable the Miss thought less of Nau'ren and she respected her thoughts, but not all people, like she said, are what everyone thinks of them. If the lady chose to dislike Nau'ren or even abhor her guts, she wouldn't do anything to force her to another decision. Although, if there were any way to prove Nau'ren was no blood sucker or flesh eater, she would clearly represent it.

[Lara Ashdown]

“You may not have started them,” Lara whispered quietly, “But you certainly did not try and stop them,”
She could not care less if Nau’ren had heard her or not, as if anything she would say affect her. The Navy will still continue to send people into war, regardless of any consequences to them or their families. Lara doubted they even cared about the soldiers, just as long as they were not in any mortal danger.

She raised her eyebrow over at Virdrag, amazed that money was the first thing that sprung to mind. At first she decided to leave, believing this exchange of money for lives to be disgusting and inhumane. But curiosity made her remain still, wondering how much either would pay to kill. Probably pretty cheap as neither seemed to care about causing death and destruction. Hearing the woman in front of her hinting, Lara wanted to burst out laughing. She was exactly how she imagined her to be. Bossy and indifferent to the mass amount of suffering which she and the fools’ stupid enough to follow her caused. A strong wind practically forced her hood clean of her face, making Lara grab the edges to keep it in place. The moment she did this, it dawned on her that the small scar on her wrist had become visible for the whole world to see. Cursing under her breath she whipped her hand back into her cloak, hoping nobody noticed and recognised her.

[Virdrag Thunderclap]

Virdrag was somewhat puzzled at Lara's behavior. He chose to ignore it, passing it off as nothing more then a disapproval for war and all it's unpleasantnesses. He turned his attention once more to Nau'ren, who had said something about men fighting for more then just money. He felt she was talking about him, and how mercenaries were described as "bottom feeders" and other nasty words. Normally, he would have taken offense, but he figured it unwise to confront his potential employer in any direct manner until he knew who she was.

"Indeed, you may find someone willing to work for free, but my skills are worth your money. However, I'm afraid that, before I decide to accept your offer, I must know who you are. Working for someone who's identity I don't know is quite inconvenient."

A gust of wind came from the east, brushing Virdrag's cape to the side. This did not bother him in the least. He was encased in armor, after all, a steel fortress that none could penetrate easily. However, one person seemed bothered by it. Lara, at first, grabbed the hood of her cloak, then quickly decided it wasn't a good idea, withdrawing her hands into her cloak instead. Briefly, he caught the sight of a scar. He pondered at what the scar could mean of Lara wanted it hidden so desperately.