[i][u]Morag-Nog[/u][/i]


"Sorry, Ma'am, but we cannot take that job...." The thin human man in leather armor, stated. Getting a stern glare from the gigantic Morag-Nog. The orcess whom was sitting across from him. He brushed a strand of his dirty blond hair and placed his drink back on the table. 

Hearing the news, Morag-Nog didn't lose her composure. Not one bit. She took a sip of her drink, wine, while keeping her eyes on the table. One table of many in this dark tavern that was lit up by the fireplace on the other side of the room. Expensive wine, but it tastes better than the moonshine these people call. She stopped. "I thought you and your group were a reputable team of mercenaries. I am offering top dollar for this job." She said to the mercenary calmly as possible. Because getting angry won't solve anything. Nor does she intend on letting her inner-irritation slip.

The man leaned back into his chair, and both his hands behind his head. Good. He didn't put his feet on the table. Otherwise Morag-Nog would have considered cutting them off. "But, this job's suicide. No one can fight the Red Legion and walk away from it."

Morag-Nog placed her cup on the table. Responding in a matter-of-fact tone, "Then don't fight them..." Her eyes came up from the table and to the mercenary. "All I'm asking you to do is get some weapons from the Red Legion. I didn't say fight-"

"I said forget about it." The man interrupted her. He pushed his chair out from underneath the table. "An Orc like [i]yourself[/i] would break the gun before you got to use it anyway." The bastard had to make one snide comment before he walked off. Morag-Nog didn't even look. She merely sighed and got off the chair. The loud tap of her cane hitting the wooden floor would have echoed if it wasn't drowned out. Her stride was more of a limp, her weight was on one side.

She pushed open with her shoulder. She was immediately assaulted by the cold winter winds of Maceron. She took a step in the streets before closing the door behind her. Ugh! That's the fourth Mercenary group she went to. They all said no. What does she have to do to get some competent mercenaries to get her some of their guns? Why was everyone so afraid of the Red Legion they won't take a simple mission against them?  Morag-Nog realized that it's something she can't pay someone to do. A mission she'll have to go on herself... Which is easier said than done. But, Morag-Nog stopped. Leaning on her cane. Something was odd here. The crowds were hectic... panicked, as if they seen a ghost. Morag-Nog furrowed her brows as she looked closer. She looked up and saw smoke in the distance.

If it's who she thinks it is...

Someone must have an answer to this.