Gabby was pleased with herself as she walked away from the wagon. She'd managed - and she'd managed this without lying, giving anything in return or even making a promise of any kind - to squeeze a debt out of what may or may not have been a dangerous sort. Offering a small piece of advice had cost her nothing, so even if she got nothing out of their chat, well... She wasn't going to lose anything for the effort. There was also the chance - and Gabby's gut felt it was the case - that this unhappy fellow took his debts very seriously, which would make the deal all the sweeter.
Things were looking good, indeed. Only a few minutes into the caravan's trip and Gabby had weaseled a small benefit for herself. The best part: she wasn't going to have to associate with the scarred hooligan until she needed him! It would probably take him a few minutes to work up proper courage to slip down from the back of that wagon, shaky as he was, and by then she'd be long -
"Thank you," said the scarred hooligan between intermittent panting.
Or you can be wrong, Gabby.
"Askeladden. You can call me Askeladd, Ash, or Ladd for short. Others do. Easier that way." Gabby found herself annoyed by the stowaway's manner of speech. It was broken, like he was afraid to speak sentences longer than a few words. "Thought you'd want to know since I'm in your debt now." At least he was taking the debt seriously, so Gabby's instincts weren't totally off.
"Well, that's grand, truly," Gabby mumbled, noticing the boy darting glances about the caravan, as if expecting someone in the crowd to sprout a wolf's head and leap at him like an animal. While that was highly unlikely, there probably were a few Welds among the beggars, so Gabby supposed it wasn't completely ill-advised. "But you need to compose yourself. If we were on a city street, I'd be grabbing my coinpurse with one hand and clutching a dagger in the other."
Gabby paused. She already was hovering her hand over her coinpurse and fingering her weapon. Well, flog me, she thought as she forced her hand away from her weapon.
"Just take a deep breath, relax, and get someone to look at those bandages of yours. They look nasty. Oh, and don't bother me so much," she added none-too-politely. "Especially if I'm working with my tools, don't bother me. My work concerns very delicate materials with potentially explosive or toxic consequences. You know, volatile stuff. I guess you're allowed so long as I'm not busying myself with something.
"Oh, and tell whomsoever thinks your name is hard to pronounce, Askeladden, that they're a slackjawed malcontent and should learn to speak with their mouth, not from between their buttocks." The short mage smirked one of those so-very-clever smirks of hers. She enjoyed hearing herself speak; even she had to admit it. She didn't consider it a fault, though, not with a tongue so quick and verbose, no. "I swear, you throw two syllables at anyone in this backwater realm and suddenly everything is complex." Waving her hand dismissively and making a "pbbt" noise out of the corner of her mouth, the mage completely forgot, for a few short moments, who she was speaking to and why she wanted to avoid them... for a few short moments.
Stellar performance, Gabby. They won't peg you for a Varyan at all with remarks like that; no, certainly not. It's not like you just insulted Edessa and its inhabitants.
Gabby frowned. She glanced over at this Askeladden fellow, her brain racing to find something distracting to say. "Gabriella!" she said, perhaps a bit too loudly. "My name. Gabriella. Call me Gabby if you're lazy."
It was about then that Gabby heard traveling shoes crunching into the road, and she couldn't help but pray inwardly that nobody had overheard her verbal jab at Edessans. She expected to see another bearded soldierly sort when she turned, but as she turned she found herself looking at a concerned young woman clad in pretty-but-serviceable traveling clothes. Most importantly: she seemed way more interested in the boy next to Gabby rather than in Gabby herself, so that was a relief.
"Excuse me, sir," the girl began, and Gabby couldn't help but crack a grin at the 'sir.' The next few words were drowned out in Gabby's head as she thanked whoever happened to be listening in the heavens for the stroke of luck.
"I'm sure there's a space for you in one of the wagons," the girl finished as Gabby came to her senses, giving the eyepatch-wearing lad a warm look. Gabby just burst out laughing.
"Irony!" Gabby gasped between snorts, not bothering to elaborate on what she meant. She cast a wary look around her, trying to find those guards on horseback. "We, uh... should probably walk a bit faster and pipe down a mite bit. We're bound to attract the attention of those sword-shaking hawks if we don't."
