Morgan hated being idle. (It had nothing to do with the devil's work; idle hands just didn't get filled with more pieces o' eight than they could carry.) Unfortunately there wasn't much she could do right now. She needed to find Rotgut and figure out why her payment hadn't shown up last night--and if that got resolved, she needed to find LeChuck and tell him to back off the old guy. But she hadn't seen either of them so far this morning, and she didn't have anything else interesting planned until nightfall. The closest thing to actual work she could think of to do was watching the Sun Room bulletin board in case either one of the pirates showed up, so that's where she headed
( ... )
Zevran was growing fond of the large atrium room that his uniformed nurse referred to as the Sun Room. It was the place he went in lieu of the mundane activities that they tried so hard to corner him into. He had yet to actually participate in any of them, and planned to keep up this pattern. He was not here for help and kind words and drawing silly pictures. No, he was biding his time, like he imagined many of them were. It was foolish to think that he was the only one pacing like some kind of caged animal, but some were better than others at putting aside their instincts. Some of them were probably even genuinely innocent souls, waiting to be rescued. They'd be disappointed when no one came for them, which was the most likely scenario
( ... )
Morgan was tracking on the guy well before he got close. She'd seen a few people who looked like they might be half-decent fighters here, but most of them seemed...well, straightforward. They'd come at you from the front, they'd rely on their strength or sheer bulk to win fights, and Morgan figured she could wipe the decks with their faces in thirty seconds. This guy was different, though. He was several inches shorter than Morgan and not hugely musclebound, but he moved with a quietness and an easy grace that suggested a lot of fighting practice. Probably plenty of experience sneaking up on people, too.
Interesting. Not to mention dangerous. If the things they seemed to have in common didn't end there, Morgan thought, he'd be a bad guy to get on the wrong side of. So what did he want from her?
"Go ahead," she agreed. Not that she apparently had much choice unless she wanted to make him leave, since he'd already dug in his heels. And she wasn't interested in another unarmed fight against three goons right now. "What's a guy like you
( ... )
Despite having just congratulated himself for being oh so wary and unflappable, her question caught him off guard. Perhaps he had let that line slip from his lips on more than one occasion, but it was inticing to have the tables turned. Her intentions were sadly of a more innocently curious nature than his own might have been, but he wouldn't hold that against her. He would try of course, and if she was the sort of woman that he thought she was... well, actually, there was no telling how she would react. That was the best part, he supposed. Comfort and predictability may have soothed some weary souls, but Zevran's feet itched at the very thought
( ... )
"Yeah. I do." And she wasn't happy about it, either, as her tone and expression probably made obvious. Actually, Morgan doubted anyone here was happy about their situation, but most of them weren't missing out on as many pieces o' eight per day as she was
( ... )
Zevran couldn't help but laugh. It came out uncontrolled and natural, and with it there was both affection and bitterness towards his situation and hers. On some level, he felt for the woman. They both had their own reasons and their own ghosts that haunted them, but Zevran knew the unease of finding yourself part of something unexpected. An ally to those who moments ago you wanted to ruin, for purely objective reasons. Maybe she had taken to it better than Zevran had, but it seemed that the lady understood him more than she knew.
Of course, Zevran had been asked to wipe Amell and Alistair off the map, not simply capture them. He was an assassin, not a bounty hunter, after all. Kidnapping was so messy, but he supposed there was more money in it compared to your garden variety assassin, which Zevran was not. He sometimes wondered where he would be if he had managed to kill the Wardens, but realized it was a pointless exercise. He would be exactly where he had been for the previous twenty-something years. Back then, nothing he ever
( ... )
"That'll make it tough to collect," Morgan commented sympathetically. Don't get involved was the cardinal rule of any self-respecting sword-for-hire, and that had never been a problem for her before--not when she was getting paid for the kill, anyway. It was frustrating to have a job get messy, not to mention bad for business.
When she thought about it, though, she couldn't say she was sorry, even for the moments when she'd felt like someone was twisting a blade in her stomach. She was a little sorry for the moments when someone actually had been twisting a blade in her stomach, but...well, she wasn't going to dwell on that. She was okay now, and that was what mattered.
Anyway, there they were, professed (or maybe confessed) fellow professionals. They'd better get the introductions out of the way before they started talking shop--or revealing any more embarrassing personal stories. Morgan gestured to herself with a flourish. "Morgan LeFlay, Mighty Pirate Hunter
( ... )
"It is truly a pleasure to meet such a beautiful and sharp woman, Madam Morgan," he began, even executing a slight bow from his seated position, although his eyes remained trained on her. She was truly an attractive woman, and his smile had redoubled at the confirmation that she seemed to be equally competent. He had been fortunate enough to be in the company of several brilliant and talented ladies as of recently, but most of them had taken an immediate disliking to him. Zevran was resigned to the fact that his sense of humor simply didn't mesh well with the judgmental and self-important, but Morgan seemed to be neither. She did appear appealingly confident, though, and curious about him
( ... )
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Interesting. Not to mention dangerous. If the things they seemed to have in common didn't end there, Morgan thought, he'd be a bad guy to get on the wrong side of. So what did he want from her?
"Go ahead," she agreed. Not that she apparently had much choice unless she wanted to make him leave, since he'd already dug in his heels. And she wasn't interested in another unarmed fight against three goons right now. "What's a guy like you ( ... )
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Of course, Zevran had been asked to wipe Amell and Alistair off the map, not simply capture them. He was an assassin, not a bounty hunter, after all. Kidnapping was so messy, but he supposed there was more money in it compared to your garden variety assassin, which Zevran was not. He sometimes wondered where he would be if he had managed to kill the Wardens, but realized it was a pointless exercise. He would be exactly where he had been for the previous twenty-something years. Back then, nothing he ever ( ... )
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When she thought about it, though, she couldn't say she was sorry, even for the moments when she'd felt like someone was twisting a blade in her stomach. She was a little sorry for the moments when someone actually had been twisting a blade in her stomach, but...well, she wasn't going to dwell on that. She was okay now, and that was what mattered.
Anyway, there they were, professed (or maybe confessed) fellow professionals. They'd better get the introductions out of the way before they started talking shop--or revealing any more embarrassing personal stories. Morgan gestured to herself with a flourish. "Morgan LeFlay, Mighty Pirate Hunter ( ... )
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