[center][h3][color=mediumseagreen]Artemisia[/color][/h3][/center]

“Don't tell me. I betcha lost track of time?”

With a chuckle, Artemisia winked. [color=mediumseagreen]“Bingo.”[/color] A broad smile spread across the face of the man sitting at her table, growing almost as wide as his bushy black mustache. He seemed thoroughly engaged with her story, and as ever the girl's way of telling stories tended to get everyone into it. [color=mediumseagreen]“Before you know it, the whistles sound from the tradeyards signaling lunch break for the miners, and I just about leap out of my seat. I sprint out of there, hurling the record toward the front desk as I go by and nearly clobbering the poor woman working there...you should have seen her face!”[/color] She put on a scared expression, arms held up in terror. 

That earned her a laugh from her audience, including a few weary hunters the next table over. [color=mediumseagreen]“But I sprint out of there, and hightail it down the street, dodging left and right past burly shoulders and the pickaxe hazards atop them!”[/color] Artemisia jerked in her seat side to side, miming the act of evading workers. Her companion glanced downward, which did not escape the mage's notice, but she could hardly blame him. She was, after all putting on a show. [color=mediumseagreen]“I just about trip over this wagon, but by the grace of Garuda I stay on my feet. In my head I'm thinking, my train's leaving in like, five minutes. I have to do this smart. So what do I do?”[/color] This time her question was rhetorical, and she cut off the hunters thinking they'd been given another chance to respond. [color=mediumseagreen]“I grab a shortcut, of course. With the miners getting off work, the nearest Commission lot is wide open, so I say goodbye to crowded streets and hello to the fast lane. I get through in a jiffy, but there's just one problem...”[/color] Clamping her hands on her pink-blonde hair, Artemisia adopted an face of anguish. [color=mediumseagreen]“The Coffer.”[/color]

Her audience's collective silence and unknowing stare broke her flow, and she looked around as though they were doofuses. [color=mediumseagreen]“Uh, Golem's Coffer? The number-one attraction in Hardside, its life's blood? Well, it's this gigantic pit in the ground. All day every day miners from the Excavation Commission descend into its depths, with drills, pickaxes, and heavy equipment, using ropes and cranes and ladders, to bring up all the riches of the earth. It's a gigantic operation, super impressive. But just then it stood between me and the train station, hundreds of meters of open air above a bottomless pit. Impossible, right?”[/color] Crossing her arms beneath her chest, Artemisia smirked. [color=mediumseagreen]“Well, not for me!”[/color]

She waved her hand, spinning up an air current that lifted her empty tea mug into the air. All eyes lay on the magical display as she held it aloft. [color=mediumseagreen]“The wind, you see, is at my back. I swooshed across the whole Coffer...”[/color]

“You can fly with wind magic?!” the mustached hunter exclaimed, incredulous.

Artemisia grinned and released the mug, which hit the table and fell sideways. [color=mediumseagreen]“Well, not fly so much as boost up and then slowfall, but sure, basically! About halfway across I was getting a little low, so I landed in this cable car full of busted gear being moved across the Coffer for repair. Flew up again, then made it the rest of the way. I went right over the head of this old dude eating a sandwich. Fell right out of his mouth!”[/color] When she laughed, her audience laughed with her. [color=mediumseagreen]“Made it to the train just before the doors shut. Relief at last.”[/color] She leaned back in her chair. [color=mediumseagreen]“'Course, I ended up getting thrown off that train, but that's a story for another time.”[/color]

After a brief exchange most of the hunters went about their business. Not an exciting story to people who tangled with death in the wilds, necessarily, but she knew how to tell it, and lots of people were happy for a little wholehearted socialization. She joined the table of the mustached man in the first place because he looked lonely, and like a man with a story to tell. He ended up being a far better listener than talker, but both enjoyed the encounter. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it so much that he didn't want to let her go just yet. “Man, first I say I'm not much of a talker and then you go spinnin' a yarn like that? You tryin' to show me up or somethin'?”

Artemisia shrugged, more in a 'maybe' sort of way than uncaring way. Body language told half the story, after all. Her friend continued. “Well, that was mighty fine. I ain't one to just take hospitality and give nothin' back, so what do you say to lunch? There's this joint on the river with the most amazin' fish, smoked and perfectly seasoned...”

Despite herself Artemisia felt her stomach rumble. Flat broke since lunchtime yesterday, she really did feel hungry. Looking at her would-be companion, she figured she could do a lot worse for a date and a free meal, but swapping tales with a stranger was a far cry from going somewhere with one. Besides, she had other business to attend to. Artemisia groaned, and replied, [color=mediumseagreen]“I'd love to, you know, but I've got this certification deal any minute now. Apparently these dopes don't know a Black Mage when they see one and need a little demonstration of my windpower.”[/color]

The hunter nodded sagaciously. “Makes sense. With fatality rates so high anyway, the Guild don't want anyone who can't put up a real fight.”

Artemisia leaned forward. [color=mediumseagreen]“Any tips? You oughta know a thing or two about what it takes to become a hunter.”[/color]

Another nod. “Yes, ma'am. The secret's composition. Find the toughest sonuva bitch in the group and put 'em between yourself and the monster. If ya get hit, tell the healer to fix ya up. That stuff's their job, after all. The others do their thing so we big hitters can shine!” Artemisia shot a glance at his pike, leaning against the windowsill. He, meanwhile turned around in his seat and looked toward the waiting room. “Heard it'd be a large group today, so ya oughta have a good choice.”

[color=mediumseagreen]“Thaaanks,”[/color] the sorceress said, rising from her seat to head toward the designated room. On the way she gave the fellow a pat on the shoulder. [color=mediumseagreen]“You're a real gem.”[/color]

“Not half as pretty as you,” the man said. “Name's Oliver Soreldart, by the by. And you're...?”

[color=mediumseagreen]“Why, I'm Artemisia.”[/color] She looked back, her smile only slightly strained. [color=mediumseagreen]“If and when we meet again, I'll by expecting a real story, 'kay?”[/color]

Oliver nodded emphatically. The man sure liked doing that. He might have been about to say something else, but Artemisia moved on, mimicking his voice. [color=mediumseagreen]“See ya 'round!”[/color]

A few moments later she arrived in the waiting room, and barely had she come than she plopped down in another chair. Her hair spread out behind her, and she crossed her legs. [i]Composition, huh?[/i] That blonde looked like another dragoon, so Arty doubted she could rely on her.