[i]Plink... Plink.... Plink... Plink... Plink...[/i]

A heavy sign escaped the very annoyed mercenary as she waited for her ride. It was almost an hour late. She had trouble trusting anything that traveled on flat land without assistance of the wind or animal. Maybe the blasted device broke down? She glanced at the grubby ticket in her hand. It listed the address for her newest hire on. Hopefully she would make it in time. She had been told by the captain of her vessel to the quite damned city. She could understand the rush to leave so eagerly. Derelict rubble and the stench of rotten tides. Levian would take the desert any day compared to the humid and moist environment she was in now. Her eye twitched as the drip from the small covering intensified, each drop making a notable sound on her grey steel armor. Her dark brown eyes looked up at the awning she stood under. It was very obviously cracked and the next drop landed right on her sunworn face. She had smile crinkles as well as stress lines. Levian had a slightly tired expression and a small scar just under her left eye, a reminder from a training session years old. [i][color=00aeef]I guess my ride isn't coming...[/color][/i] She thought, not wanting to wait any longer.

The slender woman began her walk toward town, preferring the higher roads and bridges she'd come across. She was very aware of the situation, the port taverns told her plenty of stories. Real or fake, she did not want to find out the true nature of the tales she had heard. With a confident flick of her long black hair, flicking off droplets of water quickly lost to the rain, Levian found herself at road sign after road sign, constantly flicking water from her hair to keep it out of her eyes as she hunched over her ticket, trying to find something that looked akin to the address. The wayward guard looked up as a vehicle of rather elegant description passed her. She gave another heavy sign as it passed, about to follow it when she realized it had only a driver. Maybe it had dropped someone off. It was a rather important looking... cart. Levian slid on one of her specially crafted shields and held it over her head to try and clear her vision. She looked in the direction of where the vehicle had come. She could see lights, not many, but more than she had seen up until this point. With a little more hope, she clipped the shield back to her hip and trudged in the direction of the lights. Maybe she could find a small tavern or store to ask directions. Though with the weather as dreary as it was, and her walking around in heavy armor, she wasn't so sure she'd get the help she'd want.

After a short jaunt, she found herself at the end of a square. She had found what looked like a very lavish manor. It was much bigger than anything she had seen up until this point. A young woman was just slipping inside the manor, seemingly holding something in her arms. [i][color=00aeef]It's as good a place as any.[/color][/i] Levian decided. She walked to the manor doors and pulled one open, slipping in and allowing herself to drip for a bit in the parlor. She had walked in on the end of what had appeared to be someone speaking but she could not fathom who. She glanced down at her ticket once more and nervously glanced around. It seemed the manor she was meant to find, but she was unsure who had placed the contract originally. She reached into her pack and brought out a dark red sleeve, sliding the rough cotton sleeve over her right shoulder. The red was unique to the Desert Arms Mercenary Corp. She hoped her charge would notice it as she stood casually by the door, hoping to drip dry some more. Though she was soaked to the bone, she wasn't cold and she was pretty sure her small clothes were almost dry already. She glanced around the room once more, taking in more details of each member. She was told it would be a larger gathering of others jobbers. What felt like several minutes to her was only a few seconds. She had a job to make it to, and she couldn't waste any more time. She was late enough as it is.

With a soft clearing of her throat, Levian spoke. "[color=00aeef]Levi Protego, of the Desert Arms Merc Corp. Did someone here hire on a protector?[/color]" Her voice was loud and commanding, though somewhat rough from limited use over the last few days, and from her time at sea. While it had the sound of a kindhearted woman, it was also bolstered by the voice of someone who knew she was meant to kill or be killed at the protection of whatever she was charged with. She wished she looked as impressive as she hoped she sounded. And the more Levian thought on it, the more she figured she looked really ridiculous standing there with water dripping off of her gauntlets, shields, and tasset. With a hope that she had reached her destination and with a hope to get dry, the mercenary looked around the room expectantly.