The city streets of Praven were bustling with merchants moving their carts, peasants moving their goods or purchased items while others decided what to buy. Haggling conversations flew left and right often rising above the din of the folks milling around the port city where many goods came in from across the ocean surrounding the mass of land known as Calradia. This particular city was home to the court of Swadia, King Harlaus's court. In the streets many deals went about with the overlooking guards watching carefully for mischief while the peasantry kept a close eye on their purses. A city large as this was known to have many cutpurses and pickpockets and everyone kept their eye on their own bags of coins, those who didn't would find themselves out of money fairly quickly.<br/><br/>Persephone took a deep breath of the air, fresh outside of the comparatively stale tavern. The noise of the streets was oddly calming, having grown up in a major city like this one she was used to it from her childhood. The sights and smells were soothing, the honey wafting on the air, the smell of fresh grain as well as various vegetables, meats and fruits. The sounds of metal striking metal from the various smithies echoing in the city streets. The sight of constant movement some of which was proud and ponderous, others it was more purposeful and hurried. All of these sensations were a wonder to behold, each city had its own unique set.<br/><br/>Then the wind shifted and Persephone made a bit of a scowl as the scent of horse droppings from the stable nearby the tavern with the guard watching them, wafted over her nostrils.<i>Ah yes... no matter which city you're in that always smells the same...</i>Persy sighed softly and turned back in to the tavern, dubbed "The Squealing Pig" with a sign over it of a singing pig for those who couldn't read.<br/><br/>The chainmail she wore made light metallic rattles with each step she took, restricting some of the finer movements but she was still very capable of defending herself in it. The coif hung at rest between her shoulder blades as she went back to the table she had picked out of the tavern and sat back down on the bench. The hour of the day and angle of the sun, the place wasn't all that busy. A passed out drunk in the corner, a few peasants sitting across the room from her after having their share of the market that particular day.<br/><br/>Reaching to her belt she drew out the contract which she had written herself for the new company, recently passed on to her. After she had taken the reigns, most of the older Mercenaries had left believing that a woman leading them would be a curse. Others had died off from the elements or to bandits. Unraveling the contract she looked it over, carefully written and given the King's seal to prove its authenticity that the signers were not signing themselves in to slavery.<br/><br/>"Barmaid," Persephone called to the tavernkeeper, whom smiled politely and made her way over to await an early order, "I'll have a platter of fruit."<br/><br/>Bowing graciously though her smile was half forced, possibly she didn't want to be working the tavern or maybe she had a terrible night in bed with a man. Persephone wasn't sure but the woman's demeanor was of little consequence. As she brought the platter back, Persy depositted a few coins in to the young lady's hand.<br/><br/>Reading the contract written in parchment, signed by Persephone at the bottom and a roster of signatures from a few folk that had already signed on, some of which were names or signatures, others were just pictures or markings made by those who couldn't read or write. Either way it was a legally binding document promising the signer a weekly wage of twenty Denars with a sign on bonus of one hundred. It also stipulated a bonus percentage from the company's employer upon completion of a separate contract of employment and the right to sell or keep the possessions of whomever they killed that was not in the company.<br/><br/><i>More of a band really... less than a dozen signatures...</i>Persephone sighed as she plucked an apple from the platter and drew her dagger, cutting a piece from the fruit and popping it in to her mouth as she continued to inspect the charter she had written,<i>We're going to need a few more if we're going to complete this next job...</i><br/><br/>"Starting a com'any are ye?" Came a rather loud and slurred voice, breaking Persephone's thoughts whom looked at the man speaking. It was the drunk that had passed out, apparently up and about now, "A woman star'in' a com'any? Tha's rich!"<br/><br/>"I didn't ask for your opinion, wretch. Now be off with you!" Persephone scolded the man from her seat, well aware of the man's dagger at his belt, her own hand resting on the grip of the sword at her belt. Her bow was unstrung and stowed on her horse, hopefully guarded by an honest man.<br/><br/>"Aye I'll be off but b'fore I go, ye should know tha' there's a woman jes' like you in th' prison wai'in' execution fer banditry." The man squinted at her, leaning on the table no doubt trying to get the doubles to focus to one and maintain balance respectively.<br/><br/>"Why would I care about some worthless bandit in the prison?" Persephone frowned then, beginning to lose her patience with the man but keeping it from reflecting in her voice.<br/><br/>"Well... she be a fighter like ye, might find some use fer her... got her all clapped up in irons they does, might be able to make use of-" He was interrupted by a guard who apparently had been looking for him. Pulling him away from her table and shoving him through the door, probably paid by the innkeeper to get rid of him given how he used a bit more force than was necessary.<br/><br/>It was an intriguing thought that the drunk had put in her head, using a woman who was about to face her death at the hand of the king's executioner.<i>Skill isn't the issue, it's whether or not I can trust them...</i>Persephone thought, her second in command seemed to be missing. Unfortunate, given she would have liked to run the idea past the man while it was still fresh in her mind.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>