"'Help wanted, Dewspire Village looking for someone to discover the source of the disappearances that have been happening for the last few weeks. Reward of two hundred gold coins is offered for solving the problem,'" a young, red-haired woman reads to herself from the written missive with a soft smirk as she leans against the local bounty office's exterior wall, a map to the location scrawled along the job notice.
"Sounds right up my alley. Better see about getting some new armor once I finish this mission. Gods know I've needed some for a while," she comments, rolling up the notice and stashing it inside of her belt pouch, the woman's armor rather beat up and scuffed, some of the straps nearly falling apart, "With any luck, I'll be home with a small fortune in booze money by the end of the week."
The woman's leather pants hug her bottom half, padding her sizable rear and thighs from the metal plates protecting them and giving her form quite the outline, the plates only covering vital parts of her torso and her legs. Her maroon tunic hangs loosely below her armor, the sleeves covering her arms and protecting her from any debris she may brush against.
A small, rectangular tag made of black metal adorns her chest, pinned to the cloak that drapes from her shoulders, the cloth as red as her hair. Engraved into the black material is the name 'Scarlet Chapel,' indicating the owner and declaring who she is to the world without shame, while a heavy mace rests in a belt loop on her side.
"Veralion really needs to let me get some more work in," Scarlet mutters to herself, sighing deeply as she walks through the busy city streets and weaves around the people that are in her path, her red eyes lidded with boredom as she navigates the familiar streets, "It's so ridiculous that the Genesis guild has a limit on the number of missions you can do per month. It's not like I would go for it if I was exhausted, so what's the big deal? I can handle it, and I'll prove that today."
With a huff, Scarlet decides to rent a horse to reach her destination, scanning over the stalls and other businesses that may be able to help her. A short while of searching later, she finds herself near the gates of Bakshar City, the city named in honor of its liege.
"I could have sworn that there was someone right over...aha! There you are!" Scarlet cheers, pointing at a small set of stables set up between two larger stores, practically hiding the smaller business from view for anyone that doesn't think to look closer at it.
Walking towards the stables and pushing the door to the office open, Scarlet steps inside and takes a good look around, ignoring the various papers and horse care products scattered around the interior, stepping up to the desk and cupping her hand near her mouth once she realizes that the front room is empty, "Hey Gerry! You have a customer, you old fart! Get your senile ass out here and rent me a horse!"
The door to the back room slams open as a boot-clad foot kicks it with a bang, narrowed eyes glaring at Scarlet as the new arrival raises a finger and points directly at Scarlet's face, only a scant few feet from her, "Look here, you mental toddler! You can't just shout in here whenever you want to!...how long are you wanting to rent it for?"
"A week, maybe two. What, no witty comebacks to being called ancient?" she questions with a chuckle and a raised brow, earning a laugh from the Wood Elf, his long ears and dark hair a dead giveaway as to which race he belongs to, "Maybe my comment about being senile wasn't far off."
"I've only been of age for two hundred years, and I will outlive your great-grandchildren," he says with a deadpan, Scarlet's smile disappearing entirely as she grows mildly uncomfortable, averting her eyes from Gerry's for a moment before awkwardly chuckling, "It's not a joke, it's my reality. The horse is two gold coins, and an extra silver for calling me old."
"Oh, come on. Didn't I help you out that one time? With bringing the escaped horses?" she reminds Gerry, clasping her hands together and pouting, the tall woman looking down at the shorter Elf and earning a snort along with a shake of his head in response, "Seriously? Why not?"
"Because you only did that after letting the horses out in the first place, you witch spawn. We're even, as far as I'm concerned," Gerry insists, leaning on the small wooden countertop between them and narrowing his eyes in annoyance, "Take it or leave it, kid. I'm the cheapest horse rental at any of the four gates. You won't find better."
"Trust me, I know," Scarlet mutters, glaring off to the side before groaning heavily and producing the demanded coinage, a pleased smile crossing Gerry's features as he collects the coins and deposits them below the register, "It's not like I'm trying to actually make fun of you. You know that, right?"
"Yup. It's just fun to mess with you," he says, placing the silver coin atop his curled pointer finger before flicking it towards her, the red-head catching the coin in a hand with a soft chuckle. Gerry steps out from behind the counter a moment later as he begins to lead her back to the stables, twirling a ring of keys on his finger, "Pick any of the horses, they're all well cared for."
Nodding her head, Scarlet follows the Wood Elf outside and into the small courtyard, barely big enough to hold a carriage or a cart without scraping the two neighboring buildings. Spotting three horses in the stalls, Scarlet lets out a soft "Aww~" before approaching the sandy-blonde mare that approaches her out of curiosity, nosing at the offered hand presented to her.
"Velvet seems to like you enough, so you might as well bring her with you," Gerry tells her, chuckling as he watches the normally tomboyish woman cooing and petting Velvet like a little girl who's just been given a pony for her birthday, "Though I don't think I would have had to suggest her, given that you seem taken with her."
"Thanks, I'll make sure to keep her safe forever. This horse is now mine," she replies, chuckling darkly and grinning at Gerry, still petting Velvet without pause and ignoring the playful glare he shoots her way, "Suits me quite well, don't you agree? You want to come with me, don't you pretty girl?"
"You're not keeping my horse," he says with a deadpan, folding his arms across his grey tunic and shaking his head, a brow raised in faux indignation, "Not unless you have about five platinum coins, that is. A real rare breed, Gold Striders are. Not many of them on this side of the world."