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 Bodyguards and Indignant Scouts, Tag Ranta~
Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit
Carma (Mom)
Her charge’s name was Meir. He was not a particularly noteworthy individual, another traveller seeking to get from one point to another, another merchant, another man with pennies to spare on protection. He had sought her specifically, but there was, to her knowledge, another who would be joining their party before departure. He had spoken of heightened activity of bandits between the two villages, and Balsa took careful mental note of it. Apparently there was some sort of unrest that had caused them to act more aggressively than usual. She still believed that she on her own would be able to handle the situation, but all the same, an ally was not unwelcome, provided that he didn’t get in her way.

He, or she, Balsa wasn’t sure yet. But this line of work tended to be filled more with men than women.

Here, she had made a name for herself. One that was nostalgic, familiar. In the New Yogo Empire Balsa the Spear-Wielder had been just as famously known. Although, the context of that knowledge had been rather different. She had, to the law’s words, kidnapped the Prince and burned the castle, faced the Mikado’s elite guards and won. She had not been known as Balsa the wandering bodyguard, but a criminal. Yet despite that, those very foes she had defeated were those she could say she held the greatest respect for, and they, in turn, for her. It was the respect of a fellow warrior that held the greatest value to her, and so it was with a mildly keen interest she awaited the arrival of their third party member.

She had recently seen to a blacksmith by the name Talion to have her spear touched up; it had seen many a battle, and had been well used. She was confident, now, that it was ready for use if it was required in their venture, though if her cohort and her charge listened to her, perhaps they would be able to avoid conflict at all. She was dressed for travel, a heavy cloak on her shoulders and her hair tied back, her spear in hand. The cloak was easily removed if needed, to allow for more maneuverability in action. But for now….it was a waiting game. Until their third party member joined them, she could do little but stand and wait.

She just hoped he didn’t take too long. The evening was when they would be most at risk.
And here we go dyohoho best thread title

count on me

We’re all gonna die anyway, so why should we be bound by stupid ideals that do nothing but make our lives a whole lot harder and less enjoyable?
hai to gensou no grimgar
sam (she/her)
now the darkness got a hold on me
Ugh, teamwork was tedious.

It wasn’t that Ranta was bad at working with others — well, he didn’t think he was. He knew how to do his job, knew how to perform his designated role in a group. As long as he did his job, then he was good. Who cared about how he did it, or how he treated the rest of the group? That wasn’t what mattered, not when it came down to it. Getting along with someone or being friends wasn’t a prerequisite to working well as a team.

Consequently, it was safe to say that Ranta’s group jobs in Wildewall had been going less than swimmingly. Which was stupid if you asked him, but he supposed it didn’t matter. At the end of the day he got paid, and the people he’d worked with weren’t obligated to take a job with him again. To each their own. Whatever. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to know that he was getting the job done. He still got work, after all — and, despite himself, he still took assignments that required more than one person.

Who knows, maybe one day he’d run into someone he actually cared to work with. Someone like one of his friends, back when he’d lived in Grimgar.

They weren’t your friends. You were just a member of their party, nothing more.

Ranta spat at the ground, adjusted the sword strapped across his back, and approached his client's designated meeting place. His sharp eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the merchant who had hired him… and then to the bodyguard standing near him. It was a woman — older, with a giant spear. Pfft.

I have to work with an old lady?

Whatever. If she couldn’t do her job, then she wouldn’t be here, right? Ranta gave a terse wave of his hand as he reached the pair. ”You’re Meir, right? Is this it?” he asked dryly, calculating eyes shifting from the merchant to the spear-wielder. He didn’t recognize either of them.

He hoped they weren’t annoying.

notes: he’s super stoked to be here

I fucked with forces that our eyes can't see
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