Janitorial services in Krag

Over the last couple of days, a new arrival in Krag would be seen tending to the courtyard area of the keep. Sweeping, mopping, tidying stalls.

Her appearance would indicate just how out of place she is: a long mohawk dyed red, bright red eyes with slit pupils, a face full of piercings, and what looks as though it was once a black robe has been cut into a mid driff and mini skirt. The horns lining her brow and atop her forehead might actually be the last thing people notice about her. She also wears a noose around her neck, secured tight enough that her neck has abrasions; most of the marks appear to have been there for a couple days now.

When people stop and stare on their way by, she bares her jagged and pointed teeth at them. Anyone who takes the time to remark about her appearance within range of her hearing would get an earful of profanities from the girl. If one of the patrolling swordhands happen by, however, she promptly shuts herself up and gets back to her duties.

When she's given breaks from her labor, she spends her free time reading in the less-populated common areas. If anyone should happen to find her, she moves to a new room while hiding her books away from the eyes of others (unless its an official who asks what she is reading, in which case she would show them ((pm for details)).)

Korgulg stops by from time to time to inspect her work. If nothing is amiss with it, he never remarks. He may stand at a distance and stare, as is his wont.

Every once in a while, during her duties, the girl would think she's being sly by cutting some corners. Piling trash under concealed areas, cleaning only the visible sides of a wall or counter space, stacking supplies or crates so it looks like she did more work. Her favorite lazy cleaning method, as she would do quite often, is to hurriedly get through an area in a "general" fashion ("Well I cleaned most of the stained glass," she'd think to herself).

Dicky looks the woman over and studies her for a bit. He shakes his head and walks into the keep and digs through some paperwork trying to find out who and what she is.

Eventually, Korgulg (being a very perceptive fellow) catches one of her corner cutting tricks. He approaches her.

"Your cleaning is sloppy and careless." He then gestures to the noose affixed to her neck. "It would be a very simple matter for them to extend that rope."

The woman would lean on her broom, raising a brow at him with a subtle little smirk.

"Is it 'them?'" She cants her head. "Not allowed to join the club?"

He stares for a few moments, letting the silence sit there.

Then he speaks, "Clean it all again. Why it is the Thaumaturge told me to oversee you instead of one of his own I do not know, but if you do not learn some respect you will regret it dearly."

As Korglug speaks, she wears a "yeah yeah, whatever" look on her face.

But she does as she's told, heaving an exaggerated sigh as she turns around and starts cleaning all over again.

She'd mutter "hard-ass" under her breath if he puts some distance between the two of them, hardly above a whisper because she knows she's pushing it again.

Traya would watch the interaction in amusement, as she meandered about the courtyard and struggled to remember what exactly those things were called. The things like the woman was. The not-quite-fiends. Born with blood of the lower planes but not necessarily the hells. What were they called?

Bah, no matter. It would come to her eventually, as she watched.

Korgulg watches her go without a word. If he hears her comment, he doesn't do anything about it. After a few moments, he walks toward the lab. He had far more important concerns than a petulant girl who hadn't the discipline to complete simple tasks.

She'd look around, and once Korg was out of sight she'd scurry over to an emptyish side of the courtyard for a smoke. Afterwards she sets out to actually do her task. She was, afterall, given a chance at proving herself in hopes of garnering aid in obtaining what she's truly after.

The elf grinned his wide grin watching the woman clean and work in public, the elf often lounged around just watching...and if any zhent questioned him he was quick to drop the thamaturges name and mention that he is already accounted for.

She actually doesn't pay the elf much mind. Perhaps she's playing coy, hard to get.

Or perhaps she was simply disappointed from the night cap with the elf two days previous.

Whatever the case may be, she goes about her tasks focusing solely on obtaining sweet, unlimited power.

Tiefling! That was it. That was the word; that stupid word for what the new cleaning woman was. The not-quite-fiends. Tieflings.

Smiling slightly, very slightly, at the fact that she finally remembered the word she was looking for, Traya would continue to watch the tiefling work. She wondered what the tiefling had done to get itself in that position.

Traya would see the woman in the distance, frightening off more onlookers as they gawk and murmur at the woman being put to work.

She'd eventually work her way over to clean the area around Traya. As she worked, she'd cast subtle glances toward the girl. Awkward glances, like the one she herself receives as a result of her appearance. But these glances were somewhat different. They were reserved, yet longing. She busies herself more-so with her work, trying to finish and hurry away before the robed woman had a chance to initiate conversation...

Traya would not initiate any form of conversation with the not-quite-a-fiend. In fact, she would pretend like the woman had not looked at her at all. Traya would go about her business, which generally consisted of sitting around until Zaburra had an instruction for her or she grew bored of being in Krag, as if the tiefling did not exist.

That being said, the not-quite-a-fiend's predicament of becoming the courtyard's cleaning crew did amuse her. And whenever she was in a foul mood, she would amuse herself by watching the woman perform the menial labor.

Dicky can be seen walking around doing his rounds dressed in his zhent garb. At a point he quietly talks with the swordhands. After words he sticks around and seems to watch the elf like a hawk.

Baristan walks into Krag from Bleakton and stops in his tracks seeing Suna once more.

"Gah! Tha' horned goat-lizar' thin's still 'ere?..."

She'd subtly follow Traya with her eyes as she left, then turn back to her work once she's out of sight.

As Suna sees Baristan approaching, she'd roll her eyes.

"Not this saggy old sack of shit again," she'd mutter quietly to herself. As she overhears the man's words, a scowl grows on her face and she looks to the floor. She bites her tongue this time and takes out her frustration through her work with some aggressive sweeping.

Sion grins, especially at the interactions between the woman and the people she encountered, but he saved a smile for dicky whenever he looked at the elf, sion was always grinning right back.