Wednesday, 23 May 2012
However, as the conversation drew on, she began to regard the door warily. There would be a guard on that door. Surely by now he would have heard their talk and taken interest -or action. Did a half dozen guards now stand on the other side of that simple slab of wood, crossbows knocked and readied? Awaiting just one mistake on their part?
She turned to address the elf, her jaw dropping at the monster's suggestion for a vote! Who'd have thought, among devil-kind, that she'd had finally found a being willing to practise something so egal-ah-tanian as this? Her conscience warred with her for a moment. To have so long dreamed of having an opinion that counted where decisions were concerned? But then, they were tarrying here overlong. Already any guard behind that door must be -at the least- suspicious, if not already alert and ready for threats.
The pink of her ears now spreading to the warm the rest fo her face as well, feeling somehow proud to know that, for the first time in her life, her voice mattered. Smiling her agreement with the halfling, Herr Harbul; Kirsen strode forward and wrapped smartly -once- on the door. Then, hurriedly, she took a single step back and stood before the door, in plain view, hands away from her weapons, gesturing for the halfling to join her. Murmuring from the corner of her mouth, she added:
"Sheathe those weapons. Looks suspicious."
Already, she was working through a story in her head. As a known independent in the local gutter scene, she'd be bringing a group of independently contracting opportunists from out of town to see the bosses. Negotiating dues for a job they had planned and making arrangements to avoid entanglements with any local capers they might otherwise inadvertently complicate by their actions. It was a good story. Credible too. And it would get them deep into Asylum. Maybe even into one of the bosses offices. Yes. That would work.