Post by YGRITTE BLACKBURN on Sept 13, 2013 22:27:48 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/df7r7p.jpg][atrb=width,525][atrb=height,97] cellar door This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, that Cellar Door is the most beautiful. |
[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/10rqpsk.jpg] If there had to be one downside to working for the Cosa Nostra, it was perhaps that the nobles that hired them for protection were of the annoying sort. Brows pressed into a frown as she did her best to ignore the droning of the portly man she was guarding, Ygritte kept her gaze glued forward. The Duke of Lostley was an annoying man yes, and by the sounds of it, thought himself far better than he was worth—but he was a necessary annoyance. Without him, she would have no money, and without money …well, the thought bore no thinking. After all, without the gold she needed to fund the informants, Ygritte would have no way of finding anything. No way of finding the slightest inkling of the whereabouts of her children. She had tried scavenging for information on her own and had failed—the scar dragging itself across her back was reminder enough of that. “—woman—Guardswoman!” Posture stiffening as she finally tuned into the duke’s words and was met by the unsightly expression of the frown making its way cross the man’s sallow skin, Ygritte nodded her head in acknowledgement though said no words in response to the man’s sudden attempt to get her attention. Besides, it was not like the Duke wanted to hear her speak—she was here to guard and nothing else. “I was asking if we were almost there, if you had been paying attention. Now please, answer the question.” Point made when the tiny man let out an affronted little sniff, Ygritte kept her gaze locked forward before nodding her head slowly, this time opening her mouth to reply. “Yes. We should be there within the hour.” Resisting the urge to frown whilst keeping her face in its usual dead-pan position, Ygritte’s lips thinned as the admittance sent the man muttering foul things under his breath about just how this was pushing back his time. Of course, she thought privately, if he had not decided that he needed an entire caravan for protection, they would be there much sooner. There was after all, a limit to how fast a group of thirty men and woman in a fleet of wagons carrying smuggled goods could travel. Readjusting the position of the axe on her back in an attempt to settle her temper, Ygritte set herself in for a long ride, already tuning out the man’s whining once more. True to her estimate, they arrived at the Noredge market shortly. It of course, took a bit longer for the wagons to navigate their way to the safehouse, and even longer for the Duke to finally give her the money he owed her for the job (though not without much complaining on his part). Still, receive her money she did and within an hour of her parting with the Duke, she was making her way through the Noredge markets. Ignoring the red haired man selling paltry potions, boasting about how his wares could invigorate hair or drive away suitors-she after all, had no need nor care for either, and she knew that man well enough to know the drivel he spouted was false—at least in regards to his wares, Ygritte made her way towards one stall in particular—the blacksmith. After all, keeping one’s weapons in shape was always a priority, particularly when in her field. Nodding a brief greeting towards the blacksmith as the man hammered his way at the forge located towards the back of the area set up for his shop, Ygritte scanned the many tables set out, eyes darting over sword and axe alike while paying little mind to the people who swarmed about her. She was after all, in need of a new blade. words ### tagged lifa blackburn notes wewt ygritte's first post <3 credit template by konya☆ |
