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Description
He sat by himself in the dimly lit room, like he always did this time of day. It was the one daily routine he allowed himself in spite of his resident paranoia. Each day he would go to the same inn, and wait for two hours in his permanently leased room just in case a customer should look for him. He would spend the time playing solitaire, and pretending to expect the knock from above signaling that a client was on the way down.

It wasn't lack of skills that kept his contracts to a minimum, but rather a combination of a his intentional poor manners and not bothering with advertising for his services. Quite a few information brokers knew of him, and that would be enough. In reality, only the desperate ones or people with as little interests in others as himself sought him out, and even then he wasn't on the op of the list.

His looks wasn't exactly the kind to inspire confidence or attract customers. Sure, he wasn't ugly, in fact, if he ever decided to go for some proper grooming, he would even be considered handsome, but at the moment he looked like any other unkempt thug off the street. His shoulder-length black hair was kept more or less in place by a worn leather headband, and his face was covered by a short beard, but the lack of effort put into shaping it spoke of practicality, not vanity. His clothes were dark, rough and durable, and obviously not exactly new. You would most likely find similar clothes on any ruffian down in the docks or in the shadier parts of town.

A knock from above snapped him out of his ... and he hastily shoved his cards into a drawer. Loosening the knots on his scabbard, he focused on the door and waited for whoever was on their way. The smiling, friendly face was not exactly what he had been expecting, something that only made him more suspicious. «So.. you have come to seek my services?» he asked, trying to figure out whether she actually was this naive, or it was just an act. In spite of his unfriendly tone, she kept smiling as she answered «Yes, I have. My name is» which was as far as she got before he raised his hand and interrupted. «Listen here, missy. I'm not sure what you have been told to expect, but my first rule, is no names. You won't get mine, and I sure as hell ain't interested in yours. If, and I have to stress this, IF I decide to take the contract, we will find something suitable to call eachother that will have nothing to do with real identity. And you won't tell me any cute stories from your childhood either. If it doesn't affect the contract, I don't want to know»

She drew a deep breath, obviously trying to recompose her happy demeanor, and he took the opportunity to study his potential client. If he had believed in the stories about the elves, he would probably have taken her for one. Her tall, slim figure along with her slender, slightly feline face fit very nicely with the descriptions of the stories. However, her very normal round ears and her long black hair did not, and was comfortingly human. The last thing he wanted, was to end up in some sort of weird fairy tale. Still, she was very pretty, which made him doubt the wisdom in taking the job. Pretty girls could easily find more sociable contractors than him, and usually did except in very strange cases. The kind of cases you just shook your head to and refused.

But as she smiled again and handed him a scroll, he found himself thinking he could at least see what she wanted before sending her off. «This should answer all your questions about the contract, and as you prefer, there are no names in it. However, I have to add a term, since you insist on behaving so boorish. You will call me Princess, perhaps that will rub off on your behavior and make you act a little more corteously.»

He accepted the scroll with a grunt, and started reading. It seemed to be a fairly straightforward bodyguard/guide mission, with some extra expertise in winter survival needed since she wanted to cross the mountains right away, and the winter storms were in season. She would be carrying a very valuable package, so attacks along the way was to be expected. Hardly anything that would justify going to the trouble of getting him over any of the myriad of other contractors. When he got to the end, and read the size of the payment, he considered just tossing the scroll away and chasing her off. Noone offered that much money if there wasn't something wrong with the entire assignment.

The only problem was that his gut feeling told him to take this job, and it should have been saying the opposite. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her made his instincts go wrong, and that was just another reason why he should send her packing. But he knew how it would go once he had acknowledged what his instincts told him. He just had to play along and see what kind of trouble she would land him in.

«Very well, Princess» he said grudgingly «you have yourself an escort. I will take you through the mountains, and protect you and your cargo all the way. You will call me whatever you like, but stick to one thing once you have chosen. Have your gear packed and ready for departure at dawn tomorrow, and be ready for a hard journey. I will not set a slow pace to accomodate your femininity»

She smiled and extended her hand. «We have a deal then, mister.. Grumpy. I will refer to you as Grumpy until you act like you don't deserve that name» With that, she giggled and left the room.

Description
He sat by himself in the dimly lit room, like he always did this time of day. It was the one daily routine he allowed himself in spite of his resident paranoia. Each day he would go to the same inn, and wait for two hours in his permanently leased room just in case a customer should look for him. He would spend the time playing solitaire, and pretending to expect the knock from above signaling that a client was on the way down.

It wasn't lack of skills that kept his contracts to a minimum, but rather a combination of a his intentional poor manners and not bothering with advertising for his services. Quite a few information brokers knew of him, and that would be enough. In reality, only the desperate ones or people with as little interests in others as himself sought him out, and even then he wasn't on the op of the list.

His looks wasn't exactly the kind to inspire confidence or attract customers. Sure, he wasn't ugly, in fact, if he ever decided to go for some proper grooming, he would even be considered handsome, but at the moment he looked like any other unkempt thug off the street. His shoulder-length black hair was kept more or less in place by a worn leather headband, and his face was covered by a short beard, but the lack of effort put into shaping it spoke of practicality, not vanity. His clothes were dark, rough and durable, and obviously not exactly new. You would most likely find similar clothes on any ruffian down in the docks or in the shadier parts of town.

A knock from above snapped him out of his ... and he hastily shoved his cards into a drawer. Loosening the knots on his scabbard, he focused on the door and waited for whoever was on their way. The smiling, friendly face was not exactly what he had been expecting, something that only made him more suspicious. «So.. you have come to seek my services?» he asked, trying to figure out whether she actually was this naive, or it was just an act. In spite of his unfriendly tone, she kept smiling as she answered «Yes, I have. My name is» which was as far as she got before he raised his hand and interrupted. «Listen here, missy. I'm not sure what you have been told to expect, but my first rule, is no names. You won't get mine, and I sure as hell ain't interested in yours. If, and I have to stress this, IF I decide to take the contract, we will find something suitable to call eachother that will have nothing to do with real identity. And you won't tell me any cute stories from your childhood either. If it doesn't affect the contract, I don't want to know»

She drew a deep breath, obviously trying to recompose her happy demeanor, and he took the opportunity to study his potential client. If he had believed in the stories about the elves, he would probably have taken her for one. Her tall, slim figure along with her slender, slightly feline face fit very nicely with the descriptions of the stories. However, her very normal round ears and her long black hair did not, and was comfortingly human. The last thing he wanted, was to end up in some sort of weird fairy tale. Still, she was very pretty, which made him doubt the wisdom in taking the job. Pretty girls could easily find more sociable contractors than him, and usually did except in very strange cases. The kind of cases you just shook your head to and refused.

But as she smiled again and handed him a scroll, he found himself thinking he could at least see what she wanted before sending her off. «This should answer all your questions about the contract, and as you prefer, there are no names in it. However, I have to add a term, since you insist on behaving so boorish. You will call me Princess, perhaps that will rub off on your behavior and make you act a little more corteously.»

He accepted the scroll with a grunt, and started reading. It seemed to be a fairly straightforward bodyguard/guide mission, with some extra expertise in winter survival needed since she wanted to cross the mountains right away, and the winter storms were in season. She would be carrying a very valuable package, so attacks along the way was to be expected. Hardly anything that would justify going to the trouble of getting him over any of the myriad of other contractors. When he got to the end, and read the size of the payment, he considered just tossing the scroll away and chasing her off. Noone offered that much money if there wasn't something wrong with the entire assignment.

The only problem was that his gut feeling told him to take this job, and it should have been saying the opposite. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her made his instincts go wrong, and that was just another reason why he should send her packing. But he knew how it would go once he had acknowledged what his instincts told him. He just had to play along and see what kind of trouble she would land him in.

«Very well, Princess» he said grudgingly «you have yourself an escort. I will take you through the mountains, and protect you and your cargo all the way. You will call me whatever you like, but stick to one thing once you have chosen. Have your gear packed and ready for departure at dawn tomorrow, and be ready for a hard journey. I will not set a slow pace to accomodate your femininity»

She smiled and extended her hand. «We have a deal then, mister.. Grumpy. I will refer to you as Grumpy until you act like you don't deserve that name» With that, she giggled and left the room.