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Post by Chancellor Cheri on Mar 29, 2021 6:01:47 GMT -5
Cheri did not trust the sort who frequented a mercenary outpost such as this. If someone was there, they generally fit into one of three categories:
- They were a saiyan. Not much needs to be said in this regard; they were dumb, surprise surprise.
- They were a tuffle. If they were a tuffle, they were probably there in an attempt to hire mercenaries. Fair enough. However, generally no more than one tuffle was there on behalf of the tuffle people, so if Cheri was there, any other tuffles being there meant trouble unless she had brought them with her. Unless, of course,
- They were a mercenary. Someone who was keen to do a job, possibly involving violence, for pay. Violence, Cheri could understand, was necessary, but that was for a grander purpose, fighting for the greater good. Someone like Cheri had a hard time trusting anyone who fought for their own benefit.
Cheri had found, in her experience, that mercenaries were quite glad when the tuffles were around because, when a tuffle government representative was there, it was either to hire at least one merc for a job, or they were there to get information and then hire at least one merc for a job so as to not be suspicious. The mercenaries were glad to be there for it, given that A) quite a few, especially Herans, would be happy to take any jobs that set them against saiyans and B) the tuffles, being a mostly-xenophilic, culturally and technologically advanced civilisation, could afford to pay for them. Much of the meaningful income the saiyans generated was from selling the loot they’d stolen from the tuffles they murdered which, as one would expect, was not a sustainable means to profit. This, combined with how saiyans liked to fight their own battles, resulted in most of the big jobs being from the tuffles.
That all was a big, too-long, roundabout way of saying that Cheri was there in search of a competent mercenary, and was decently confident she wouldn’t need to worry about any saiyan competition.
Probably should have just said that, eh?
She’d walked into the main tavern. She’d found a nice corner to nestle into after having told the bartender, who would generally mediate potential job-takers, the job’s prize. There would be a good many mercs interesting in taking jobs from someone who was so obviously a tuffle, even without having seen the reward. Usually, when there were so many mercenaries, all who wanted to hear the offer, they resolved it by brawling each other, and the winner would be the first to get the offer.
- They were a saiyan. Not much needs to be said in this regard; they were dumb, surprise surprise.
- They were a tuffle. If they were a tuffle, they were probably there in an attempt to hire mercenaries. Fair enough. However, generally no more than one tuffle was there on behalf of the tuffle people, so if Cheri was there, any other tuffles being there meant trouble unless she had brought them with her. Unless, of course,
- They were a mercenary. Someone who was keen to do a job, possibly involving violence, for pay. Violence, Cheri could understand, was necessary, but that was for a grander purpose, fighting for the greater good. Someone like Cheri had a hard time trusting anyone who fought for their own benefit.
Cheri had found, in her experience, that mercenaries were quite glad when the tuffles were around because, when a tuffle government representative was there, it was either to hire at least one merc for a job, or they were there to get information and then hire at least one merc for a job so as to not be suspicious. The mercenaries were glad to be there for it, given that A) quite a few, especially Herans, would be happy to take any jobs that set them against saiyans and B) the tuffles, being a mostly-xenophilic, culturally and technologically advanced civilisation, could afford to pay for them. Much of the meaningful income the saiyans generated was from selling the loot they’d stolen from the tuffles they murdered which, as one would expect, was not a sustainable means to profit. This, combined with how saiyans liked to fight their own battles, resulted in most of the big jobs being from the tuffles.
That all was a big, too-long, roundabout way of saying that Cheri was there in search of a competent mercenary, and was decently confident she wouldn’t need to worry about any saiyan competition.
Probably should have just said that, eh?
She’d walked into the main tavern. She’d found a nice corner to nestle into after having told the bartender, who would generally mediate potential job-takers, the job’s prize. There would be a good many mercs interesting in taking jobs from someone who was so obviously a tuffle, even without having seen the reward. Usually, when there were so many mercenaries, all who wanted to hear the offer, they resolved it by brawling each other, and the winner would be the first to get the offer.
20kPL and a Scouter
