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Sergeant Hal offered a gold piece to anyone who could find evidence on where shipments were “getting lost” on their way to Hoelbrak, another piece if someone could do it quickly, and like a damn greedy fool, Marjory accepted. Leaving her surrounded by transfer logs and itemized reports in the only quiet corner the Dead End had to offer. It was mind-numbing work, but she preferred it to hiking over to the home of the Norns herself for further questioning. The cold just didn’t suit her. Call it a hunch, but she suspected the goods weren't making it out of the city. She just had to find the proof first.
While business wasn’t dead, you couldn't call it booming either. Big jobs took time, and the payout even longer. Meaning Jory had to take smaller, less exciting work between payments to keep everything running smoothly. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t running herself ragged, and she knew better than most that you don’t actually get to sleep when you’re dead. Not if the ghosts around here had anything to say about it. Jory was about to call it a night before her eyes started crossing, when the door opened and in walked Trouble.
Trouble being all legs, blonde, and gorgeous. A woman with an air about her, her chin raised a little too high, her clothes delicate and well-kept. A noble. Jory had seen her around before but never in a place like this. She stuck out like a sore thumb, too bright for a dingy bar this side of the commons.
The blonde approached the counter, briefly eyeing the sleeping drunk a few stools over with a worried glance before leaning over to speak to the bartender. A gambling woman Marjory was not, but she was willing to bet it wasn't to order a drink. The bartender jutting his thumb in her direction confirmed it.
Those pretty blue eyes met hers, and for a moment Jory considered if a pint was such a bad idea after all. While mixing business with pleasure wasn’t a common practice of hers, it wasn’t entirely off the table either. Instead, however, she dog-eared her page and closed the log as the woman walked over.
“Delaqua Investigations?”
She sounded less confident than her walk suggested.
“In the flesh.” Jory motioned for her to sit. “What brings a girl like you to a place like this, Ms…?”
“Kasmeer.”
She noted how she didn't correct her prefix. “Kasmeer. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. How can I be of assistance?”
“I-” The woman stammered, but regained her composure quickly.
Not so much as a blush. Damn.
Finally sitting down, she folded her hands on the table and inhaled quietly. She started again. “I want a job.”
Marjory blinked slowly.
“You uh-“ She continued after a moment, fishing a paper from a hidden pocket somewhere on her person. “You posted this help-wanted flyer, right? I saw it in the square.”
It was indeed her flyer. Jory had put it up a few days ago, not expecting to hear anything back about it so soon. Or from someone like this.
“Indeed, I did.” She leaned back into her chair, regarding her quietly while twirling her quill between her fingers. She should just send her away now. She couldn’t imagine what a noble would want from a job like this. Especially not one this easy on the eyes, but it made Jory curious. “Have you ever done anything like this before?”
“No. But I'm more than willing to learn. I'm quick to pick things up!”
At least she was honest about it. Marjory was sure she was starting to feel the beginnings of a headache. She wasn't in the business of babysitting someone until they got bored and moved on to the next thing. Certainly not a noble on top of that.
“I'm sure you are, hon. This line of work can be a bit …dangerous. Are you aware of that?”
The blonde nodded. It was concise, her eye contact firm. She didn't look bothered by that information in the slightest.
Jory continued. “This isn't exactly a cushy paper-pushing gig either.”
“I did actually have some questions about what the work entailed. Your flyer was a little vague on the details.”
That had been intentional. She wasn't about to work with someone who was afraid to ask questions or take things at face value. She had that going for her.
“I'm going to be frank with you, sweetheart. This isn't going to be a walk in the park. It's long hours, a lot of running around following leads and digging through records that could go nowhere.” She tapped the end of her quill on the reports that could easily equal the width of a tome themselves. “It's often dirty, thankless work. It's not glamorous and more times than not you'll be dealing with… rather unpleasant people. Long story short, everyone's got a problem. And their problem…is our problem.”
The other woman’s gaze drifted away for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I know a lot goes on in this city, things people don't want to talk about. So many people need help, and so few have someone to turn to. That's why I'm here. That's what I want to do.” Those sharp blue eyes met Jory's again. “Help people.”
She was earnest at least. Idyllic but earnest. Jory could work with that. This wasn’t a paycheck to her. There were damn easier, albeit more soul-crushing things to do if money was your aim. Marjory wouldn’t be able to work with anyone who couldn’t give even half of themselves to this.
“Alright then, hon. What skills do you think you can bring to this?”
The blonde smiled then. Not a polite smile or one filled with empty vapid pleasantries that was all the rage at the nobles’ garden parties. No, this one was real, showing a bit of teeth and a whole lot of mischief.
Jory was sure that the woman in front of her, given the right circumstances, could charm the socks off of anyone she chose. A list Jory hadn’t decided if she wanted to be a part of.
“Well you see I think I could be very useful to you.” Confidence honeyed her tone, making her words far more alluring than Marjory wanted to admit. “This whole time you think I’ve been sitting here in front of you, while at the same time that guy thinks he’s been pocketing gold from those sleeping patrons.”
Jory whipped her head toward the counter where the woman was pointing, just in time to witness firsthand a man shoving something in his pocket, hunched over and shifty-eyed. Turning back, the blonde in front of her was gone, nothing but revelation and still air where she was but a moment ago. It was enough to give someone whiplash.
Calling for the bartender to grab the man in question as he started to hobble off his stool, Marjory jumped into action. He was making a break for it!
He didn’t make it far, however. Standing between him and the freedom to spend his ill-gotten gains was the disappearing woman herself, a long, elegant staff crossed over her body to block most of the hallway out. He skittered to a stop, seeing gods know what, before the barkeep grappled an arm behind his back and hoisted him up. The struggle was pathetic, his drunken limb flopping around like rubber until they were able to turn his pockets inside out, and his spoils thumped onto the floor in a dense clatter.
They all stopped to look at it. Not a single shiny coin to be found. Instead, in their place was a pile of worthless small rocks.
“What the hell?” The thief burbled, staring at them. The confusion plain on his face.
Jory pieced together the scene quickly. No doubt the real coins were safe in their snoozing owners’ purses.
Well, I’ll be damned. A Mesmer.
She felt like kicking herself for forgetting that detail. Hell, half the queen’s court was chalked full of them for some reason. Probably easier to hide behind a carnival mirror of perfection than have to look at the peasants below.
Still, if this display was meant to impress, then mission accomplished.
Marjory ordered the thief to be thrown out; he wasn’t welcome here anymore, before addressing the blonde, who looked not unlike a cat who caught the canary. The two women locked eyes to the tune of a cascading shout into the misty streets outside, followed by the clambering of trash receptacles on impact.
“Alright, cupcake, you have my attention. Meet me here tomorrow morning, early. We’ll do a trial period. Do well and I might even pay you for it.”
Her joy was immense. Bright and warm. She could hardly contain herself as she hopped and clapped her hands as much as her staff would allow. It was almost contagious.
Still, she composed herself quickly as if none of it had happened, the remnant of a smile fighting to return despite her best efforts. “Thank you. You wouldn't regret this!”
“We'll see.” Jory murmured under her breath as the blonde- Kasmeer went off into the night.
What's the worst that can happen, right? Maybe she wanted that pint after all.