You've got your priorities all wrong, my guy. It should have been sword, then drink.
[She says, but her tone lacks anything that could be considered serious reproach. There's the bright coruscation of interest in her gold-coin eyes when he makes mention of the sword though, and it has her fractionally leaning in closer on her elbows. The buzz and thrum of the tavern melts down into quiet background noise as they hit upon a topic dear to her own heart. Her gaze once again rakes assessing over his countenance, and her earlier opinion of 'stoic and seasoned warrior' is only further cemented in her ideas of him.
A sword is the first thing she'd gone out in search of once her head had stopped spinning over the strange means of their arrival here, the shock of being whole and unharmed and separate quieting down. She doesn't have anything special, not yet, just some shitty old two-hander that has seen better days and clearly hadn't been treated with the loving care it deserved, but it's a sword. She feels better, more herself, just knowing it's in her possession.]
I guess I got a head start on you though, because of that whole bullshit honoured guests thing. And I'm in the market for something fancier once I've got the cash together.
[Which...may take longer than she'd like. This whole being paid for one's services rather than having them expected of you is still new to her, and for the moment she's carrying the financial burden of two people on her admittedly strong shoulders. It feels a touch like being thrown into bizarro world, when her skills are more sought after than Harrow's. But this feels like a small matter when compared with--]
What's your preference? I like a two-hander, but I'm alright with a rapier I guess.
no subject
[She says, but her tone lacks anything that could be considered serious reproach. There's the bright coruscation of interest in her gold-coin eyes when he makes mention of the sword though, and it has her fractionally leaning in closer on her elbows. The buzz and thrum of the tavern melts down into quiet background noise as they hit upon a topic dear to her own heart. Her gaze once again rakes assessing over his countenance, and her earlier opinion of 'stoic and seasoned warrior' is only further cemented in her ideas of him.
A sword is the first thing she'd gone out in search of once her head had stopped spinning over the strange means of their arrival here, the shock of being whole and unharmed and separate quieting down. She doesn't have anything special, not yet, just some shitty old two-hander that has seen better days and clearly hadn't been treated with the loving care it deserved, but it's a sword. She feels better, more herself, just knowing it's in her possession.]
I guess I got a head start on you though, because of that whole bullshit honoured guests thing. And I'm in the market for something fancier once I've got the cash together.
[Which...may take longer than she'd like. This whole being paid for one's services rather than having them expected of you is still new to her, and for the moment she's carrying the financial burden of two people on her admittedly strong shoulders. It feels a touch like being thrown into bizarro world, when her skills are more sought after than Harrow's. But this feels like a small matter when compared with--]
What's your preference? I like a two-hander, but I'm alright with a rapier I guess.