Black & Yellow

[Barbatos]

2nd Day of Searing, 122

Outside help.

This had been the whisper...the rumor...that brought the sable-skinned man before the House. It was a reflection of the lessons that his late father had instilled in him years ago. That, when he had skills of the mercenary sort to offer, listen to what the drunks say. On paper, the advice was absolutely horrid - for who would consider the word of a drunkard? But the spirit of the advice was sound. Go to where the working man wet his whistle and simply listen. Sure, there would be plenty of noise, fights, and other untoward occurrences.

But one might also strike gold.

It was this very method that had landed Barbatos a few jobs before the Calamity struck Zaichaer. Before storms had ripped away everything the Sellsword had ever loved... And so, in the present, he would repeat the method that was tried and true. He took the first night after arriving in Kalsazi to gain his bearing. After all, the shock of losing it all still weighed mightily on his chest. But on the next day? He dedicated his efforts to finding consistent coin. He could mourn and grieve when his stomach was addressed.

And by midday, he had something to go on. A so-called House of Colors was seeking outside help. The details were few and far between, but what Barbatos could gather was a need of a strong body and the ability to defend one's self. He had that. Thus, he took the drunkard at his word and made way for the House at once. As he approached, he felt out of place, but he was greeted hospitably enough. It was clear that, if he did not have actually business for them, that he should make himself scarce...so he articulated his desire quickly.

What came next was an application. Barbatos did not read or write, so his answers were verbal...and once complete, he was ushered into a quiet room. There were cushions upon which to sit and a table which stood between him and the rearmost entrance. The woman who had taken his application advised that a superior would be with him shortly, and to "make himself comfortable." Easier said than done - as he had never sat on a floor cushion before. Nonetheless, he awkwardly parked his backside onto the pillow and began to wait.

Hopefully this endeavor would be fruitful.

.

[Mino]

If there was one thing that Barbatos could take at face value: it was that the person he would speak with, the people that lived in this manor, had money. A subdued sort of opulence; decorations that looked expensive, but were not too much. Placed precisely where they ought to be. The servants, he might notice, seemed young. No limit to when someone might want to earn their keep. Traveling in pairs, mostly. And the most important: the presence of young girls and women sporting at least one item yellow in color the further into the halls he went.

“Is that all we’ve got for the day?” Lady Honey’s voice carried. Pointedly, exact. Just loud enough to be heard at the door. Musical was the cadence, not far off from being a song sung in the waiting ears of whoever should pass. The creak of a chair — why would a chair creak in a manor so fine? — and the quiet tap of footsteps lost to a much louder pair. Purposefully louder.

When the doors opened, Barbatos would be faced with a large woman. Muscular and blonde of hair with eyes red as rubies. Those same eyes would train on the man and hold his gaze for a moment before the owner of the voice he’d heard would make her appearance. A head of straw yellow hair would peek around the larger woman’s arms. The tilt of her head would follow as she, too, took in the sight of the man sitting on the floor cushion outside the door. Stepping further into the view, she would greet him with a smile that he wouldn’t be sure met her eyes or not.

The cuffs of her sleeves draped low as she approached. Not quite bending in a bow, more so like an adult looming over a child. “My, have you been waiting long? You must be our last appointment.” Every word musical as she made a sweeping gesturing with her hand, perfectly in time with the larger woman stepping aside to allow space for entry into the room. “You might see yourself more comfortable inside. We’ve chairs there.”

[Barbatos]

As the Sellsword sat within the confines of the first room, his gaze wandered.

The subdued finery was not lost upon him. Before calamity had blasted Zaichaer, his "initiation" into the world of selling violence had introduced him to those with means. While he did not have the pleasure of serving the exceedingly wealthy, he did have some opportunities with those who had the income to think about decor. Some where more...liberal...with their spending than others. One client had a sitting room devoted to the pelts of slain animals. Whilst another had a room devoted to the aesthetics of a distant culture.

Here, on the other hand, the finery was much more...subtle. There was enough to draw the eye, but nothing that screamed "look at me and my coin purse." Here and there, he could see supposed members of the House wandering about. They moved in pairs, almost in step most of the time, and each had something on their person in the color of yellow. This left Barbatos with a single impression as he sat upon the cushion. The House had means, yes, but also...power. He did not know the extent or nature, but how they operated behind closed doors...well, suffice it to say, the Sellsword finally felt nerves.

Soon, the doors before the sable-skinned man opened and before the Sellsword stood a large woman. In his trade, it was not uncommon to see women who were fit to fight. But this woman had a build that put his to shame. What's more, her crimson gaze was simply...unsettling. Silently, she fixated upon him while Barbatos gawked in response. Did the voice he heard a moment ago come from her? No. Gods no. A head of yellow hair soon made itself visible, followed by the rest of the woman. She smiled and drew closer, her form much smaller in height than the Sellsword.

To her question, Barbatos first declined his head out of respect before answering. "Thank you for seeing me. I did not have to wait long." Then, she indicated towards the doors they came from and the larger woman stepped aside. He was invited to venture deeper - and they would have chairs inside. "Thank you for the hospitality." he added, before rising to his feet. He stride calmly past the muscular woman and found one of the chairs that she was referring to. And, as she had mentioned seeing himself more comfortable, Barbatos promptly settled into one.

From there, the metaphorical ball was in the House's court.

.