Chapter 12.1: Contractors

A day and a half of rest had done Penny more good than she cared to admit. Her initial plan had been to depart immediately, but it turned out that letting Minkus stay an extra couple of days had its benefits. Both the first and second nights, she slept better than she had since before starting work on her smartpack back in Divinity’s Reach, and during the days she really did nothing but eat, fidget with the calibrations on her equipment, and nod absently as Minkus made observations about the goings-ons of the Vigil Keep. With Ventyr spending most of his day flitting from one meeting to another and Jindel disappearing into a flurry of practice sessions, Penny and Minkus were left almost entirely to themselves with very little to do but recover from their journey.

By the second afternoon, though, she started getting twitchy. Sure, they were granted access to much of a facility, both inside and out, but Penny couldn’t remember the last time in her life she hadn’t had a project to work on, a sale to make, a deal to strike, or a client to placate. Rest may have been good for her, but it was a foreign, disquieting good, especially when she knew there still was an unavoidably unhappy client to handle the moment she left. That awareness finally led her to the merchants on the western ramparts late in the afternoon.

“But isn’t it early to buy provisions?” Minkus asked, loping along beside Penny in his usual, springy manner. “We still haven’t heard from Ventyr. We could be leaving tomorrow, or we could be leaving five days from now, right?”

Penny was too busy shuffling through strips of salted pork and dried figs at one of the vendor stalls to even glance at her friend. It seemed that the fortress, while primarily a Vigil stronghold, also served as something of a travel hub for those passing between Gendarran Fields and Lornar’s Pass. With the long winter, travel hadn’t really picked up, but the vendors were already there in preparation for the travel season.

“Biggie,” she finally replied, having finished her purchase. “I said I’d wait with you for Ventyr to get his news today—he said he’d be going to his warmaster person to get it. I’m not sitting around this place for five more days. Where’d you even get that number? Not only do I have Sigmund to worry about and the shop to get back to, but— gods, Biggie, there’s nothing to do here. Aren’t you bored?”

He cocked his head, looking up at her and scratching his ear. “Bored? We’ve been here a day, and— well, look how big it is.” His cheeks rose into his eyes as a smile rushed across his face, and he gestured toward Lake Gendarr in the distance. He couldn’t actually see it behind the parapets, but he knew was there. “The lake, Penny. The lake is so beautiful.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. “Yeah. Lake. It’s a great lake— How much are those gloves?”

“Gloves?” Minkus turned around, realizing she was talking to a vendor. “Oh.”

She finished her transaction while Minkus waited, smelling a small bunch of omnomberries. After a moment, she turned back to him with a bag of figs in hand and a pair of oil-treated winter gloves draped over her arm. “You better start buying, Biggie. That guy at the ammunition stall said it’s cold enough to freeze the spit on your lips up there. You can’t do your barefoot thing in the Shiverpeaks, pal.”

He nodded sullenly. Even Penny couldn’t miss the disappointment slumping his shoulders and inverting his grin.

“Oh, gods,” she said, rubbing her forehead for a moment. “Biggie, we’re not leaving without hearing from Ventyr, OK? —I mean, within reason. I told you that yesterday. Let’s just not waste time getting what we need when we do finally leave this place.”

The asura sighed, his whole body rising and falling with the deep inhale and release. Looking out at the foothills and drawing another deep sniff of pine wafting up on the breeze, Minkus looked stuck somewhere between disappointment and joy.

“You know they released Moptop from the infirmary?” Penny said, changing the subject. “He passed me on the way out of our room. Said he was going to take a nap.”

“Oh?” Minkus’ ears rose. “Is he doing better?”

Penny shrugged, nearly losing the gloves from her arm before catching them. “I guess so if they let him out. He didn’t say much.”

“Penny, Minkus,” a voice broke in behind them.

They turned around to find Ventyr walking up at a quick pace, accompanied by a female asura who walked as intentionally as he did. It was unclear whether it was her thick plate pauldrons that grounded her or she who anchored them, but there was nothing of Minkus’ bounce in this asura’s step.

“Getting equipped for the journey?” Ventyr asked.

“That’s the idea,” Penny said, folding the gloves and stuffing them into the huge pocket at the hip of her long coat. “Got any news?”

“Yeah,” Minkus echoed, “what is it? What’s the stone?” His ears perked upward expectantly.

Ventyr looked cold and distant, like the Shiverpeaks behind him. “No one here knows,” he said, shaking his head.

The tightness in Penny’s mouth loosened as her shoulders dropped a little. “What? Still?” She asked. “I thought your brilliant warmaster person was supposed to have all the answers. How much longer until you know?”

That was when the new asura, hands rooted firmly on her hips, spoke. “As long as it takes the sergeant to get to the Durmand Priory.” Her squared face was as humorless as her stride.

“The Durmand Priory?” Penny asked, sweeping some fallen hair behind her ear. Her eyes ricocheted between the two Vigil soldiers as she waited for further explanation.

“Yes, the Durmand Priory,” Ventyr replied. “We think they may know more than we do. Our resources revealed nothing.”

With an impatient eye on Ventyr, the asura female cleared her throat.

“Apologies, Warmaster,” Ventyr said with a bow of his branched head. “Penny, Minkus,” he began, turning to them again, “this is Warmaster Efut, the officer in charge of all Vigil efforts in the Tarnished Coast and Maguuma.”

“—and,” Efut interjected, narrowing her gaze on Penny, “the brilliant warmaster person who’s supposed to have all the answers.”

Penny’s expression didn’t change, but she noticed Minkus’ face stretch with clear discomfort that, truth be told, she too was suddenly feeling. Minkus looked at Efut, then at Penny, and back to Efut again before finally opening his mouth. “She didn’t mean—”

The warmaster waved him silent with a flick of her wrist. “Facts are facts, and I, in fact, do not know what our people in Brisban encountered. If I can’t accept that, I don’t deserve my rank. And neither do I deserve it if I don’t do what I can to learn. That is why Sergeant Ventyr is continuing to the Priory, and why—“ she hesitated, glancing up at Ventyr from the corner of her eye before continuing. “Why we’d like the two of you to see him safely there.”

Though Minkus looked up to exchange a glance with her, Penny’s wide eyes were locked on the small Vigil officer before her. She straightened, almost leaning away from the two as she stared down her nose. No words came immediately to mind, but her gaze shifted from Efut to Ventyr, and there it held.

“Miss Arkayd,” Efut continued, “As you may know, the Vigil is stretched excessively thin, leaving no one to accompany Sergeant Ventyr on the new leg of his mission. Until we know what he carries, that is an unacceptable risk.” She crossed her arms and stood as stiff and tall as anyone could, despite rising only to Ventyr’s hip. “Merely having other travelers alongside him decreases his chances of trouble along the road, but he also tells me you’re capable of defending yourselves and him. And—” she paused, shooting a rather charged look at Ventyr, “you’re already aware of his mission.” Efut paused again, looking back at the two standing before her. “We would compensate you, of course.”

Without thought, Penny responded.”Hell no.” Her attention was still anchored to Ventyr.

Slowly, though, Penny’s gaze moved back to the warmaster at his side, and she addressed the asura stiffly. “The sergeant and I have had this conversation more than once. I’m glad you all are interested in defending the world and whatnot, but I’m not contracting my life away for anyone’s cause. The only reason I’m standing here is that my business demanded it and our paths happened to line up.”

Hands clasped behind her back, the small warmaster went on as though Penny hadn’t said a word, much less an insulting one. “I understand you suffered quite a financial loss on the journey thus far. We would see that you were more than reasonably compensated for your services, both now and in the future. The Vigil may not have all the personnel we need, but we do have several unfeasibly wealthy and generous contributors who see that we have all we need financially.”

Penny scowled, remembering all the times Ventyr had tried to convince her to contract as an engineer for the Vigil. That he’d do it again, and with a superior in tow— She balled her fists and eyed him again before turning back to the warmaster.

“You’re right,” she replied bluntly, “What should have been an easy business trip has really cost me. All the more reason I have to get back to my shop. There’s no amount you could offer that would make me to change my mind.”

Without a word, or hardly a response of any kind, Efut pulled her hand around, back in front of her, to reveal a rolled parchment. Penny eyed it suspiciously, unsure where it came from, as the asura extended it up toward her. “Even this amount?” Efut asked.

Penny sighed, rolling her eyes as she reached to take the sheet. She was prepared to say no as many times as it took, even to this little Vigil leader or any other, but she had to at least know how meager an offer she was saying no to; it might even bring her a laugh. She unrolled the parchment, scanning the script on it for any sign of—

Her eyes widened uncontrollably, and she pulled the document closer to her face to inspect it again and make sure she’d read what she thought. Minkus suddenly stood at attention beside her, waiting along with the others for what might come out of the woman’s mouth next.

Penny lowered the sheet just far enough to make her stupefied expression visible to the Vigil members beyond it. She looked questioningly at Ventyr for a moment, then the warmaster.

Finally, she spoke, pushing her hair back over the top of her head. “This is a joke, right?”

“No. No joke,” Efut replied, her hands once more behind her back. “I told you: we have need for manpower, not gold.”

“But,” Penny protested, waving the contract at Efut, “this is ridiculous. There is no way anyone pays this much for a body guard, let alone some shop owner with nothing but a pistol and some explosives. This is a mistake.”

Efut shook her head, starting to look annoyed. “No, Miss Arkayd. I assure you 38 gold pieces is precisely what we intend to pay you.” Minkus’ jaw dropped as he looked up at his friend, but Efut went on. “But, you are right, it isn’t simply a few days of travel. I suggest you read the rest of the agreement more closely.”

Penny did just that. Her face tightened into a scowl as she looked back down at the print on the page, her eyes following the lines of text as she read it from top to bottom. Then she looked up with that sour, mistrustful expression again—it was well practiced. “Yeah, I should have figured,” she said. “Hard up for engineers, just like Carrot-stick always told me. Sorry to burst your bubble, Warmaster, but I’m a Reach girl till the day I die. Even this kind of money isn’t worth leaving my world behind for a year in this place.”

“This place?” Efut repeated questioningly. She turned to the sylvari. “For someone as intelligent as you claim, Sergeant, your friend doesn’t read very well.”

Penny scowled again, quickly skimming over the content once more. “You don’t really expect me to believe this bit about getting to work where I choose, do you?” She looked back at Efut.

“It’s in there, isn’t it?”

Penny read the words again, then looked up from the page. “You mean to tell me—“

Efut cut her off, putting a hand to her forehead. “Yes, Miss Arkayd, I mean to tell you that by and large we contract with engineers for weapons—handheld weapons—that can be built anywhere and delivered to the nearest Vigil outpost for later transfer to the locations they’re needed.” She inhaled deeply, looking tired of the conversation. “Occasionally we bring our contractors to designated locations for the construction of larger equipment, but it’s rare and requires a new contract. We prefer to leave that work to the committed members of our order. All you would be responsible for, Miss Arkayd, is constructing the weapons we request and taking them to the Vigil Hall in Divinity’s Reach. Do that, and we pay you 6 gold pieces up front and an additional 8 gold every season for your service.” She stopped, gave a moment’s silence, and gestured toward Penny as though physically offering the question again. “So, Miss Arkayd, is that agreement satisfactory?”

Penny blinked, staring at the asura. Then at the sheet. Then once more at the asura. She even glanced down at Minkus with that blank expression, but all he could do was shrug at her, wide-eyed. Finally, that scowl, smaller this time, returned to her face, and she turned back to Efut. “Fine,” she said. “I don’t like it, but I don’t have many options right now. I’ll sign your contract.”

“Excelsior,” the warmaster replied, with less enthusiasm than the word generally carried on the lips of asura. Without blinking, she turned her gaze to Minkus and produced another rolled sheet from behind her back. “And for you.”

As the parchment passed from the one asura’s hand to the other, Penny’s attention was pulled away from thought for just a moment and her eyes widened. It was perhaps the first time she’d really noticed just how big Minkus was for his kind. Here was a powerful figurehead of the Vigil, and Minkus dwarfed her—not a word Penny would have used to describe his relationship to anyone, except maybe Skixx. Even with Efut’s decorative armor on, Minkus was wider than she was and a large head taller.

He took the parchment cautiously and unrolled it, slowly perusing its contents from top to bottom.

It seemed to take longer than Efut expected, and she began to suck on her teeth impatiently as she watched. She looked up at the others, an exasperated sigh leaving her mouth as her eyes reached Ventyr, and then back at Minkus.

Finally, Minkus looked up from the page. “I appreciate this, Warmaster, but you don’t need to pay me. I would be traveling anyway.” He smiled and gestured at the two taller people beside them. “I’m happy just to have these travel-mates.”

Penny reached down and snatched the sheet from his hand. “Biggie,” she nearly yelped, “they’re offering you two gold pieces just to make a few-day trip.” She handed the parchment back to him. “That’s more profit than I make in a season, and for doing something you’re already planning on. Don’t be dumb; just take the money.”

Minkus’ gray cheeks turned an ashy shade of rose as he took back the contract, embarrassed.

“This is how we do things in the Vigil,” the warmaster interjected, clearly hoping just to carry on with her day. “If we contract your services, we must compensate you for them.”

“Well—” he said, playing with his ear while still staring at the parchment. “Alright. If this is what has to be done. Thank you, I guess.”

“Excelsior,” Efut quickly replied. She turned quickly on her heel and strode away, as seemingly immoveable as she had been standing still. She turned to call over her should, “Come with me to my study, and we’ll sign the documents and finalize the agreement.” The three left standing there exchanged a glance of mixed emotions and fell in line behind her.

Penny sighed. “Looks like both of you get your way.” She looked at Minkus first. “We’re not done traveling.” Then her eyes shifted up to the sylvari beside him, and bitterness rimmed her words. “And you finally managed to lock me to your order, Sergeant. But let’s be clear: this is one job. Just one job.”

Ventyr nodded. “Yes, of course, Penny. One job.”