The hired guards lined up outside the building marked Green Sea Timberworks on the outskirts of Say'atyrn. Some tended to their wounds or cleaned their blades now that the job was complete. The journey from the Wilds to the Green Sea was considered one of the toughest routes. They had to contend with Leocan and Orcs, then smuggle the goods past Elven Council checkpoints—not just to avoid taxes, but also because some of the cargo was protected ancient wood coveted by private collectors. With portals to other Planes beginning to open, the longer path had become even more perilous. This time, an incident had indeed occurred.
This meant a few things for the mercenaries:
No one was more aware of this than the freelancer standing anxiously at the front of the line, her weapons already cleaned and oiled. Her hair was tied atop her head, covered by a green and gold bandana that hung below her ears, two holes cut out to allow for better hearing. They didn't typically hire someone as young as her, but a local had vouched for her.
A human mercenary leaned against the building, watching her from the corner of his mud-colored eyes. Sweat-matted hair poked out from beneath his leather helmet, partially hiding wrinkles that made him look older than he was. He drew a dagger and spun it lazily in his hand.
"They're gonna pay ya whether ya stand or sit," he drawled, using the dagger to pick at his teeth. Something dislodged, and instead of discarding it, he popped it back into his mouth. "Standin' there like a dog won't get ya nothin' but a pat on the head."
Without turning, she replied, "Funny you'd mention dogs, Verse. I've been wondering how they kept finding us... then I realized it's the smell of dog filth whenever you walk by."
The other mercenaries burst into laughter as Verse's face twisted in anger. His ears reddened, and he muttered curses under his breath.
The door to the logging company swung open, and a dark-haired elf stepped out, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her emerald eyes glinted as she glanced at the eager freelancer by the door, looking her up and down. The freelancer recognized her—it was the elf who had hired her from that inn at Four Roads. The elf tossed a leather coin purse into the air and caught it deftly, flashing a smile.
"You did good, kid," she said, opening the pouch with a fluid motion. She extracted a few coins and placed them into the freelancer's hand. "Here's a little bonus from me. If you ever need more work, come see me in Un'Sael, alright?"
The freelancer weighed the coins in her palm, their cool metal reassuring. She looked back at the elf and nodded.
"Yeah, you bet," she replied, her voice wavering slightly despite her efforts to sound confident. "This was no sweat; I'll be there."
The elf smiled and turned away, motioning to a goblin clad in the typical garb of a follower of Lathander. Together, they walked off into town.
Later that night, after receiving her pay and enjoying the first warm meal she'd had in months, the freelancer stepped outside to get some fresh air, hoping to steady herself from the effects of the ale. As she tilted her head back to gaze at the stars, a blur of movement caught her eye. Before she could react, a fist slammed into her stomach, driving the air from her lungs. A rough hand seized her by the throat and pinned her against the wall.
"Think it was funny what ya did, huh?" Verse hissed, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Let's see you laugh after I gut you right here."
The freelancer coughed, her hands clawing at his arm. "P-please... please..." she begged, her voice strained.
Verse's grip loosened slightly as a smug grin spread across his face, savoring her apparent submission.
"Please... bathe..." she gasped, a faint smirk forming. "You smell... so bad..."
Rage twisted Verse's features, his face flushing crimson. He let out a roar and reached for his blade. In that split second, the freelancer acted. She drove her knee sharply into his groin, causing him to double over with a guttural groan. As his hand fumbled with the hilt, she kicked his wrist hard, a satisfying crack echoing as bones met steel. The dagger clattered to the ground.
She snatched up the weapon, gripping it by the blade despite the sharp edge biting into her palms. With a swift upward motion, she drove the pommel into his chin, snapping his head back. Teeth clacked together with a harsh sound. Not wasting a second, she swung and struck him across the temple with the handle. Verse's eyes rolled back as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Breathing heavily, she dropped the dagger onto his prone form. Glancing down, she saw blood seeping from cuts on her hands. She grimaced, wiping them on her trousers before turning to head back inside.
"Why didn't she kill him?" the goblin whispered to the elf from their hiding spot across the street. "I thought you said she was ruthless?"
The elf merely smiled, her gaze fixed on the freelancer as she returned to the tavern. Inside, the young woman removed her bandana, revealing a cascade of white hair. After wrapping her injured hands with strips torn from her bandana, she called over to the bartender, ordered another drink, and casually mentioned that Verse was passed out outside.
"I did say that," the elf murmured, her eyes never leaving the freelancer. "But this is even better. She's exactly what we've been looking for."