this is fake and you should feel bad

"Of course I will cover expe-" Dysi started to say. "Wait, bones...? There are no bones buried outside, as far as I know. And besides, I...Do not own this building, so I cannot...grant them to you regardless."
Eli waved it off. "It's fine. I assume you have rooms at an Inn prepared for us?"
"I always make sure to be prepared." Dysi said mildly. "Then, if there's nothing else...?"

Dysi's eyes widened noticeably at Narroth's comments, but Arelyth waved it off. "Don't mind Narroth. He's not as...sadistic as he sounds. I agree, we should get going soon."
"Hold one moment." Ziphos spoke up. "We haven't made sure that there's exactly six thousand crowns in the chest, yet."
"Oh! Of course." Arelyth said. "Allow me." She pulled out a quill pen and piece of paper and walked up to the chest, opening it. It was filled to the brim with gold coins. "Cleos." She spoke firmly. At her Word, the coins began to rise out of the chest, floating through the air before forming neat stacks of crowns, row by row, in the chest. Arelyth counted each one, marking and scribbling on her paper as she made sure everything was in order. After a few moments of this, when every single crown was nicely stacked in the container, she finally said. "Done. He's telling the truth, there's exactly six thousand genuine imperial gold crowns here."

The fat man took them down a long hallway, clearly trying to hide nervousness. He kept glancing behind him at the group, as if paranoid they would attack him or leave. At the end of the hallway was a door. The man opened it and stepped inside, unnecessarily motioning for them to continue following him.

The door opened into a large room with a table with maps all over it and chair in the center, which was otherwise bare besides a bed and a decent sized chest. The scrawny man from earlier stood silently by the chest. The man looked at them, finally, reluctantly dropping his confident facade. "You weren't followed, were you?" He asked nervously.
"I'm confident we weren't." Arelyth told him.
"Then I...I guess I should explain the job now."
"Yes." Eli said dryly.

"I'm a...a former slaver, you see. I wasn't very, uh, reputable, and I made a few enemies. And now they...they put out a bounty on my head. A big one. My name is Dysi Anatoli."

Eli raised an eyebrow. He whistled. "Some people are willing to pay three thousand imperial gold crowns for your life, Dysi." He said. "We've had three people approach us to hire us to track you down, but I told them we're a mercenary group, not a pack of assassins."

"That doesn't surprise me." Dysi said. "But I'm willing to pay you twice that to keep me alive."

Arelyth's eyes widened. "Six thousand imperial gold crowns? That's more than..." She rifled through her folder for a moment and retrieved a sheet of paper, looking over it. "That's more than we make, on average, in roughly four hundred and thirty days."

"What exactly do you need, and how long term is this?" Eli said quickly, getting down to business.

"I just need an escort to Edrephos. I have friends there who can protect me virtually indefinitely, but I can't get there alone." Dysi said. "The money is in the chest behind me. I can send another message to your headquarters telling where it is and to come pick it up if you agree. Then, we can leave on the morrow."

"...It's a deal."

Eli tapped his foot against the floor impatiently, his arms crossed. He, Arelyth, Ziphos, Yashy, and Narroth stood in a small, otherwise empty room in a building in Vith Honeth, a relatively large central Kurian city. It was two day's journey from Ras Borune, the mercenary group's base of operations in Kuriar. They had received an anonymous letter asking them to come to this specific building, that someone had a job for them and would pay well, and also to come prepared. Eli had taken that to mean "prepared for battle", and so had ordered the group he took with him to suit up in whatever their preferred combat gear was. Eli himself wore gleaming, well kept steel chainmail, a relic of when he was still Dragonwatch. He didn't carry a sword, able to summon one on the fly when needed.

When they had entered the building, a scrawny man wearing expensive black clothes had shown them to this room and then left, ordering them to wait here. That was almost half an hour ago. Eli hoped this job would pay well, for all the journey and wait they had to put with. He wasn't a patient man.

Arelyth jumped when the door suddenly opened. She had been organizing, for seemingly the millionth time, her folder of documents and manuscripts, ranging from a sheet detailing the group's expenses from the past month to a list of each mercenary's fighting style and Words known. She looked up to see who entered. It was a moderately fat man who wore slightly ragged looking noble clothes. He looked them over with an obviously false air of condescension and confidence, and said. "I guess you'll do. Follow me."

After taking one look at the security feed, Erin said. "We need to move. Now." She didn't specify if she meant them to fight or flee, and in reality she didn't know exactly which one. But with how many mercs were there, an open fight wasn't a good idea. If they were going to fight, they would need a strategy.

[9:08:43 PM] Vansy: I assume he joined the Words of Power after it's creation?
[9:09:34 PM] KINFANGO: Sure

Accepted~

EDITED! FOR JUSTICE!
Vansyedit: lol sorry I didn't think about your skaipe name

Accepted~

Fire/heat is sovarii, ice/cold is cyro, speed is rasi, calm is imperos.

Erin, having finished the training, was waiting around for the others. She heard Kethan, and more or less approved of what he proposed. There was little to do but wait for the others for now, though.

Erin turned to Oleg. "Weapons. I only ever received training in energy weapons. I'm an expert at any sort of energy based pistol. Sometimes a little more firepower than that is necessary. Big guns. Miniguns, rocket launchers, I'm sure you know the drill. Since you're offering to teach, I want to learn."

Erin soon followed on the elevator, interested to see what allies Kethan had called in. When she arrived, she surveyed them approvingly. At least two of them looked combat capable. She didn't see super mutants often, and she tended to avoid them. As much as she didn't understand the purpose, she decided she should at least give a cursory greeting. "Welcome. I'm Erin." The words felt awkward and unfamiliar, and reminded the speaker of how pointless socializing really was. But regardless, she appreciated their presence, if you could call it that. Feeling very little emotion, Erin usually felt little more than a vague feeling of satisfaction when things went her way.

Erin had stayed mostly silent during the walk back and Dusty's breakdown. These happenings were one of the biggest mysteries to Erin. She had been exposed to bloodshed from a young age. Breaking a man's neck or shooting him in the back were as natural to her as breathing. She'd killed her own teacher, stuck a knife in his throat, before setting out on her own. That was two years ago. Since then, she'd killed more people than she could count. Slaves, brotherhood, legionnaires, NCR, tribal savages. She'd used disguises to gain people's trust before strangling them in their sleep, or cutting their throat, or throwing them off a balcony. To her, emotions were weaknesses. Weaknesses she could exploit in those around her, using their pity, kindness, and lust to complete her mission and eliminate her target. Seeing an ally completely lose her composure was puzzling. But regardless, it was not her concern, so long as Dusty recovered.

Erin followed at a safe distance, stopping under cover outside the legion camp and watching. After Jagar and Dusty emerged, she watched them closely, noting the blood on Dusty and Jagar's clearly upset demeanor. When they passed by her, she stood and met them. "What happened in there?" She asked. She had heard the gunshot, and the blood on Dusty suggested who had pulled the trigger, but it was incredibly unlikely she would just walk out of there after shooting a Centurion. "Since you're already leaving, I take it the job is either done or Jagar already got you kicked out."

Erin followed the group silently, hand on her pistol. Keeping track of the trail was child's play. She'd tracked targets for days at a time before, and she didn't have the advantage of a trail of Xander root then. She wasn't exactly anxious, but strangely apprehensive. In no way did she trust Jagar's (in)ability. She felt at any moment he'd say something to blow his cover and she'd have to step in. It wouldn't be difficult to save them, per se; but it would throw a wrench in the plan, and Erin would simply end up resorting to a similar method as she had used to assassinate a centurion before. It could take days to weeks, but it'd get it done.

"I'm always ready." Erin stated. Indeed, she had her satchel, her pistol, her hidden knife, everything she carried on her.