A Quest for Herbs in the Monster Ridden Forest!

[Dracos]

In the lands of Sunny Corneria...

All was peaceful.  All was gay.  This land was a land of happy people.  While not bereft of hardship, their lives were generally easy and welcome lives.  Despite the ever ample monster population roaming the countryside, these people had eeked out a rather tremendous living alongside the greatest human kingdom in the world....

And it is here that we start our story...  With a young white mage by the name of Patricia Dunkirk, currently an apprentice healer at the local White Mage's guild.  Today, she sets forth on yet another daring mission to bring good and light to all the corners of the world at the behest of her overseer, Sister Margurite.

"Lady Patricia, are you paying attention?"  The old hag dressed in white robes demanded.

Dracos

[Halbarad]

"Yes, Sister Margurite," Patricia replied. Paying attention to the glory of the world around her, yes. It was embarrassing to be lectured on the properties of herbs she knew about when she was just a little girl, trekking through the woods around Vertice with Father Maxwell. This old biddy barely knew hemlock from burdock.

[Dracos]

"Now, Lady Patricia, I want you to go gather those herbs now.  Make sure to pick up a guard to help you.  The countryside has been somewhat dangerous of late."

Sister Magurite handed Patricia a little spending cash.  "Just in case.  And remember, don't bruise the herbs!"

Dracos

[Halbarad]

"Yes, Sister. I'll be back soon, Sister." Taking the pouch of money, Patricia conceals it within her voluminous white robe, heading out of the room.

"Three bags full, Sister," she mutters, stalking through the halls of the guild. "Honestly, you'd think I was born yesterday!"

Muttering complaints about the unfairness of having to do the guild's most menial chores, she heads out into the streets of Corneria, her destination the local guild of mercenaries.

[Dracos]

She passes by a powerfully built red-headed warrior in chainmail as she crosses towards the mercenary guild.  A somewhat lazy appearance mars his face.

Alexander, you spot....

Dracos

[Halbarad]

An attractive young woman, with long brown hair and rather delicate features. Most other details are hidden by the rather shapeless white robe of the White Mages' guild wrapped around her body, but she's of a bit more than average height for a woman, and she strides along with purpose, her normally cheery face a bit flushed with irritation.

[Anastasia]

Clad in a grey cloak that seems to only annoy him, Alexander passes by. His tall, bulky body is adorned with with a tight red tunic, shaped and impressed by the chain mail on underneath. The shifting of metal links can be heard to your ears as he walks, the telltale sign of metallic armor.

His black hair is messy, a shock atop his head and shielding two green eyes. Giving you a glance, Alex pauses just a moment, perhaps to admire your face. After that, his booted feet carry on, his sword hilt on the other side of his body jutting back and forth as he walks.

[Halbarad]

Patricia turns at the sound of chain mail - not many people walk around the streets of Corneria in armor, at least not that she's seen so far. Seeing the rather large man, she hurries after him, a question framed on her face. "Excuse me, sir?" she says, hurrying up behind him.

[Anastasia]

Alexander stops at the womanly voice, turning his broad shoulders and body. "Mmmm?" he asks in a monosyllable, showing a lazy curiosity at your question.

"Yeah?" he asks, in a quiet, steady tone. Not much life or inflection to it, though, as if speaking is boring rote. His gaze is simple, no deep searching of your own eyes or anything past a basic enjoyment of your pleasant face. He's not terribly attractive himself, though he won't scare off every single lady in the world, either.

[Halbarad]

Giving the somewhat indolent looking man a simple smile, she ducks her head in greeting. "I'm sorry, sir, but I couldn't help but notice you're wearing armor. Are you a warrior of some kind?"

[Anastasia]

He raises an eyebrow at the question, one thick and black line of hair reaching towards his more unruly crown of black fur.  "...I can fight," is the vague answer, the accompaning nod causing his metal under garment to rustle again.

...I wonder if she thinks I'm the town guard?

[Halbarad]

"You don't... um... do work for hire or anything, do you?" she goes on, giving Alexander an embarrassed smile. If it means I don't have to go into that stupid mercenaries' guild, I'll take it. Even if he does look half asleep.

[Anastasia]

Taking in her rather embarrassed smile, Alex pauses a moment.

No, she must think I'm a mercenary. But...

What does a White Mage want with a sellsword? Curious...

"Maybe," is the short, sleepy reply. Opening his eyes some, away from the half lidded stare he had, Alex gives the cleric a good look down. "...What does a White Mage need a merc for?" So asking, he brushes his bangs out of his eyes with one hand, while the other idly goes towards his sword hilt ina  long familiar habit.

[Dracos]

The two of them realized that while they did get a sense of being alone they were standing in a somewhat busy street and they probably should retire to somewhere less likely to be bumped into if they wanted to discuss at length.

Dracos

[Halbarad]

Patricia grumps a bit. "If you ask me, I don't NEED one, but the guild insists that we take some kind of protection when we're going to gather herbs. I doubt it'd be too much work," she says, figuring that if this fellow is as lazy as he looks that should hook him in. And it's not like I DO need any help - even if we did run into something, I could probably take care of it myself anyway. Father Maxwell did teach me how to take care of myself.