User blog:Ziharku/Log 17: Salaheem's Sentinels

The life of a mercenary could very well be more frightening than I imagined.

I walked through Whitegate just earlier today, taking a set at the southern port. Feet bare and hanging over the edge, I watched the ocean for a while, enjoying the calm when I heard a terrified yelling and looked behind me to see someone running out of Salaheem's Sentinels. Some poor sob had apparently failed a mission or done something to make the head of Salaheem's angry. Drying my feet and returning my shoes to their proper place, I head up the stairs to see just what's happening inside.

Even ten feet from the door I can hear Naja making a ruckus about "that good-for-nothing". Surely she can't always be this loud, can she? Better I try and calm her than people have to put up with the noise. I really should have known better.

Entering, my presence is almost entirely ignored. Abquhbah, her faithful attendant, had a slight turn of the head to signal he noticed my entering, and so I go and stand to his left, and back a bit so I seem less forward with my presence. Naja, back turned to us, continues to rant and rave, turning swiftly and pointing her mace at the poor attendant. Or at least she tried to. Her grasp slipped, sending the morning star hurtling through the air. Had she not done so whilst turning the fellow would have had a close shave of it flying just over his head. Instead, I took a blow to the forehead, and from the dangerous end, laying me flat on my back.

I awaken some time later, Abquhbah pacing quickly in a panic for possibly assaulting an Immortal. Naja kneeling next to me, a worried look on her face. I can smell blood, head throbbing dully. Turning my head I can see rags from where someone cleaned up blood from (I presume) the would on my forehead. The spiked end must have cut me on impact. An awkward apology wriggles its way from Naja's lips, face flushed in embarrassment. I blush slightly as well, thinking how...cute...she is in this moment. Slowly standing (with a bit of help), I assure her that I'll be alright. Turning to Abquhbah, I let him know that this won't come to haunt the company. "No need to make a fuss for a simple accident." He seems somewhat astonished. I can't tell whether more for the fact that I'm forgiving at this point or that I haven't used my position to squeeze money out of them for the incident. Indeed, I have seen Immortals collecting 'personal taxes' for letting some things pass unnoticed in shops, or even using authority for a free meal at vendors. Nothing terribly illegal, but even still I don't plan to partake of the habit as they do.

When I returned to the Troupe's headquarters, the Corsair noticed my wound and laughed. "What happened, ya catch the wrong end of a morning star?" My face must have given it away, as he staggered and nearly fell from his seat. Only one person in the area, Naja, is known for the use of such a weapon, and that knowledge shone in his eyes. "I think it's time we told ya something."

That night, as we sat gathered at the table for supper, the Thief stood on his chair (custom made so that he'd be able to sit and still reach his plate on the table) and cleared his throat. "I heard that you had a run-in with Naja today." As I nod, a look of unease spreads over the faces of the troupe. "I don't really know how to put this..." It seems that the bulk of our missions come from Salaheem's Sentinels. I did notice that a fair bit of requests came from that office, though I never payed any mind to it. The little one goes on to inform me that the members of the Troupe all have some kind of debt owed to Naja. She also has a nasty habit of raising said debt when things go wrong, so despite the time they've spent under her employ the money owed never fully goes away. I count myself lucky to have avoided such a fate. Just moments later a knock at the door. Abquhbah, face a bit somber, asks to see me. Salaheem's Sentinels is charging me for the first aid applied earlier today. Asking how much the fee is (and it's surprisingly high), I pull the funds from my wallet immediately. "Well then, this should do it, or do I need to give this to Naja directly. Again, the man looks shocked. Ten Imperial Gold Pieces isn't exactly pocket change, and that I could pay him so swiftly almost makes him stagger. "I er well then I'll just take that and your debt is paid." With a nod, he's off to inform his master of the money collected.

A round of applause breaks out from the table. "You're lucky you had that much on you," says the Thief. Nodding in agreement, the Beastmaster says, "I didn't have the cash to pay my first fees for a week, and by the time I got enough they'd doubled it with interest and other random fees." Slamming down his bottle, now empty, the Ranger muttered angrily, "they charge me for every time I drink during a mission. Where the bloody hell does she get off doing that." His accent is thicker tonight, I presume because he's had a lot to drink, even by his standards. Shaking his head, the Black Mage sighs. "She'll find a way to have you in her employ, just wait. It's only a matter of time." Somehow I can't help but think of her blushing face as she was kneeling by me earlier. Are they both really the same person?