Happy Life
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The mercenary was lost in thought.
Of course, the easiest thing would be to shrug and walk away, saving his money for the future, but the humble plea to the Lady, uttered by her a moment ago, lay on his heart like a soft, barely perceptible, but still noticeable burden. Could a decent person refuse a woman a small favor, having witnessed the scene that had unfolded here earlier?
The warrior felt as if he were a character in a fairy tale book with pictures, where a mini-version of himself in a business suit and with a notepad sat on one of his shoulders, importantly adjusting his glasses and whispering in his ear: "you will still need this money, think about your mission," and on the other shoulder, another one, but in a white robe, with a sad smile, asking him to give all his money to this unfortunate woman, deprived of a means of earning a living.
In the process of his reflections, Zeikin remembered the prices of various goods and services that they had managed to see in this region, picked up a twig, and began to draw numbers in the mud with it, calculating them in various ways, finding the root and integral, sine and cosine. At some point, he realized that this was complete nonsense, because he had long forgotten why these things even exist and how to use them.
"Five silver coins," he finally said. "And I will also offer a prayer to the Black Mistress for your well-being."
Of course, the easiest thing would be to shrug and walk away, saving his money for the future, but the humble plea to the Lady, uttered by her a moment ago, lay on his heart like a soft, barely perceptible, but still noticeable burden. Could a decent person refuse a woman a small favor, having witnessed the scene that had unfolded here earlier?
The warrior felt as if he were a character in a fairy tale book with pictures, where a mini-version of himself in a business suit and with a notepad sat on one of his shoulders, importantly adjusting his glasses and whispering in his ear: "you will still need this money, think about your mission," and on the other shoulder, another one, but in a white robe, with a sad smile, asking him to give all his money to this unfortunate woman, deprived of a means of earning a living.
In the process of his reflections, Zeikin remembered the prices of various goods and services that they had managed to see in this region, picked up a twig, and began to draw numbers in the mud with it, calculating them in various ways, finding the root and integral, sine and cosine. At some point, he realized that this was complete nonsense, because he had long forgotten why these things even exist and how to use them.
"Five silver coins," he finally said. "And I will also offer a prayer to the Black Mistress for your well-being."
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
