[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#A66B4D]Camena[/color][/h3][hr]
Mena hummed as she waited, a lazy smile on her face as she examined the hilt of the dagger in her hand. While it was a rather mundane mount for a blade, consisting of leather-bound wood bisected by a visible band of metal that marked the blade’s original hilt, it seemed that there was something carved into the wood. On closer examination, though, Mena realized it was some sort of writing. A signature, of ownership or craftsmanship, most likely. 

[i]Antivan. The blade was made by a craftsman—Valista of Bastion.[/i]

Mena couldn’t read the language, but she didn’t care either way. A blade was a blade, and where it was from mattered less than where she’d gotten it, which in turn was less important than how well it could cut because a blade’s purpose was to cut. The markings on the hilt were like the decorative notches on her leather armor: unnecessary. 

Deciding that it was due time to stop poring over some scratches on wood, Mena opted instead to spin the dagger idly, looking around. The waiting spot wasn’t the best, was nowhere near high enough for Mena’s liking. If she’d had it her way, she would have chosen to wait on top of the rocky alcove, not inside. In fact, it was more of a ‘beside’ than an ‘inside’ for that matter, given how shallow the alcove was, and while standing next to a big rock was nice in that the big rock had her back, she’d still rather have the vantage point being on top of a big rock provided.

Her hand slipped, and she jerked it out of the way, her humming stopping and her smile freezing as the dagger hit the sand, blade sinking in with a muffled ‘shhk.’ [i]Have to work on that. Playing with your weapons is a mark of a commoner, and Madame doesn’t—didn’t—tolerate lowbred behavior. Thought it undignified, easy to pick up, if necessary. This should be easy to pick up.[/i] 

A second passed before she bent, extracting the blade. Her smile loosened, and she was spinning the dagger again, humming as her eyes scanned her surroundings. That there was only a single sandy path over was helpful since that meant she didn’t have to split her attention. There was only one direction her new companion could come from, only one direction for them to approach or attack from. Who were they, and were they in it for the coin as well? Whoever hired them had paid well—exceedingly so. Well enough to make Mena question whether they were buying more than just her services. Silence, she could manage, but not her life. Her life came before coin because, unfortunately, the dead couldn’t enjoy the pleasure of having coin.

[i]The money is the focus. That’s all she knows. Drifter, goes with the coin, leaves with the coin.[/i]

Now, the saying ‘no honor among thieves’ was one Mena took to heart, but the person paying her knew how to play cards. A substantial retainer got her interest, providing proof that the tantalizingly large amount promised to her at the end of her job wasn’t a bluff. Considering how well-off she’d be once she got paid, Mena had made the executive decision to not take off with the retainer, which was somewhat of a first. Sure she’d lose all credibility if she took off every time she claimed a retainer, but she was good at her job, and her prices weren’t outrageous—unless she could get away with it.

[i]They’re here.[/i]

A sound from further down the path got her attention, and she straightened, lifting herself off the rock she’d been leaning on. Sheathing her dagger, she headed down the path, her grin loose. Fair enough. She’d gotten to the spot first, so she technically had the advantage. ‘No honor among thieves’ and all.

As she scaled the slight hill, though, she was surprised to see figures—plural—come into view. Three, to be precise, and none were particularly welcoming. The least her hirer could’ve done was tell her how many people she’d be working with.

Noticing the three's stiff posture, she grinned, waving both empty hands at them in greeting. A human, a dwarf, and a qunari. All pirates, by the looks of it, or very fancy rogues. But, based on the stereotypes seafarers and rogues suffered, most likely pirates.

[i]Qunari captain—proud. Asserts authority. Hates being challenged, or perhaps respects worthy challengers. Human pacing is crew, as is the dwarf lookout. Don’t have much information on the crew.[/i]

“Well, I wasn’t expecting three of you,” Mena said as she came to a stop in front of the two at the hilltop, an amused grin on her face as she looked between them. “So, tell me—rogues or pirates? I was leaning towards pirates since… all of [i]that[/i],” she said, indicating the jewelry in the qunari’s hair, “which, by the way, is [i]stunning[/i]. Makes me jealous you own that all and pull it off.” She glanced between them again, then mocked surprise. “Oh, where are my manners? Mena, at your service,” she said, flourishing an exaggerated bow before straightening with a grin. “Nice to meet you two. Or three.”