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Artemisia de Chauret

Although Artemisia was by no means a large woman –she was just a bit on the smaller side, in fact—she found herself edging forward with her horse, using the more imposing figure of her mount to put herself between her new, for now, trusted companions as a group approached them. Something about the situation or the demeanor of the group immediately set off a warning inside her head. Despite the friendly sounding greeting from what appeared to be the head of the party, her instincts told her that these guys were bad news. It was those instincts that had kept her alive and even comfortable in the year after her self-imposed exile, and it wasn’t one she was going to give up on now. She took the time to quickly rebuff herself.

Still, she listened, despite what felt like the hairs on her body standing up on end. The leading man was amicable enough, dapper, and easy on the eyes, much like herself, really, if she had ever been prone to yapping and trite platitudes. 

Damn, this man was overly friendly. 

Although Hawklen had compared their selves to her own party, Artemisia had found the differences to be quite jarring. No matter how much he talked his teammates up, Krenna, in all her undressed splendor and chav-like demeanor, was hardly a demure princess; Norbert –Norbe sounded stupid—with a weapon hardly suited for sharpshooting; and the wizard Glum, who acted and dressed the part; they looked far from a cohesive bunch, despite the bard’s snake oil salesman attempt to sell them otherwise. 

More interestingly, he had introduced ‘Glum’ as a king of silent spells. Although it was hardly unheard of, because she was already suspicious of their intentions, his introduction meant that she kept an especially attentive watch on the otherwise unremarkable looking wizard. As long as he stayed like that, with his trap shut, she was willing to entertain this group for the moment. If she could find it, diplomacy was always the preferred option.

“Okay Hawklen, sure. I’m Artemisia, and these are my companions for this small jaunt,” she replied, humoring the man. Unlike her introduction to Cecilia, she redacted her full name. “I can hardly call myself a leader among us, so I’ll leave their introductions up to them. Your offer sounds reasonable, despite your companion’s protest,” she continued, offering a thin smile in the direction of their street princess. “In fact, I would be the first to suggestion cooperation.” Her eyes flicked back to Glum, whose lips were now moving. She recalled his introduction. 

Artemisia’s hand slowly fell to the sword she carried on her side. “But I can’t help but to recall your introduction of the good wizard. If your intentions were as noble as you esteem us to be, then why is the fellow long-casting in silence, with your arbalest gone on adventuring to god knows where?” Her fingers were on the hilt of her sword now. “If this is a misunderstanding, I urge you to clarify it now.” She left the rest unsaid; if Cecilia and Locke hadn’t noticed the precarious situation and prepared accordingly, they would be now after she had just verbalized her observations.
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