She tied her hair up into a tight bun, slipped into her dark hunting gear and pulled her hood up. They were waiting for her in the Chetwood. She felt... slightly nervous, but slightly giddy at the same time. She grabbed her weapons, strapping them on with her quiver, and set out from the hidden place she'd kept her gear when she wasn't living with someone.
Was she really going to work with the son of the man that got her father killed? Life comes in circles, it seems. She'd be careful. She'd be smarter. She would be safe.
Of course, she hadn't even gotten the job yet. That's what today was...auditions. Accuracy, agility, combat prowess... "Kill and don't be killed, it's not that hard."
She wasn't an assassin. She wasn't a sellsword. She never would be, even if she got this job. She hated those terms. And besides, she was hunting caravan robbers, not innocents. It wasn't that bad. She wasn't a killer, she was a vigilante but... with money!
Having made it to the clearing, a group of young men, most around her age, some slightly older, were waiting for her. Thom, the son of her father's old employer, was waving, smiling at her with his usual charisma. "Eva! Don't you look gorgeous? Dangerous, too... perfect." he smirked.
She rolled her eyes, "Why thank you, I aim to impress." He laughed, "Bah well... that's not what you need to impress me with." she nods, understanding, "What exactly am I doing?" "Ranged" he began "Bow and throwing knives." One of her brows went up, "You didn't say anything about throwing knives." He nods, waving a hand dismissively "I know, but I just want to see how this goes." She sighs but shrugs, "Alright, fair enough." He grins, hitting her at the lower back lightly. "Start with the bow, though."...
She trekked back towards Bree, a sense of pride in her eyes. Isn't following in your father's footsteps something to be proud of, anyway? Even if there is blood involved.
