"You're right, heavy cavalry would not be too useful." Kayden reasoned in good humor. Otto seemed somewhat affronted, but he ignored the man. This meeting was somehow both more pleasant and less so than his usual dealings with nobles. She was straight forward, intelligent, attractive, but something did not sit right with him. Still, he would not back out of a meeting for something as trivial as what was likely the unfamiliar sensation of food in his stomach, and he traced his finger over the map. "I assume these greenskins are in the mine?" 

"A problem?" She inquired. 

Potentially, he thought. It would depend on the greenskins, and on the length of the mine. Morek had been a tunnel fighter before leaving Karak Bhufdar, and a number of his men had fought against goblins underground, and the vile ratmen the imperials seemed to believe were myth. "It is not our usual mode of fighting. Longbows and pikes don't do well in such places, as you imagine. But I do have some experts, and my men are nothing if not resourceful. Do you have a map of Silverhill's layout?" 

"I have it readied in a dossier for after the meeting is concluded. However, I think we are now at the junction of discussing price. I would like to hire you and your men for a month's services. After that, I will evaluate your results and we can renegotiate another contract if need be, does that sound adequate?" 

"So far," He said, noticing she had not offered a price yet. As if she had read his mind, her eyes met his and she leaned back, opening her hand so Mesmer could place a rolled up parchment in it. 

"We don't accept banking writs," He joked. 

"You impudent-" Otto began, reaching for the hilt of his sword. Calliope held her hand up to stay his blade.

"This is merely the contract," she chuckled, extending it to him. He took it gingerly and unrolled the parchment. Kayden blinked. He could have sworn he saw Calliope Blackwood's name appearing in black ink at the bottom of the page. No, no it had to have always been there. "I am prepared to pay you and your men five thousand and seven hundred shillings, and twenty three hundred gold krowns for the month of Pflugzeit, beginning this day and ending on the fifth day of Sigmarzeit." 

He looked away from the parchment to see an ink and a quill having appeared at his side of the table. Mesmer had not moved an inch from behind Calliope's shoulder, the lady watching him like a cobra. He hesitated for a brief moment, biting his tongue. "Usually I would negotiate and press you for more funds," He admitted. "It is not good business for me to accept the initial offership of payment. However, we are very new in the Empire, and we require work for reputation as much as coin. Five thousand and seven hundred shillings, and twenty three hundred gold krowns will suffice for myself and my men." 

As he wrote his name down, her smile widened. "I will not forget this charity, Captain." She replied, a dark promise on her lips.