It's to Barcus' credit that he manages to not stare, perhaps. That, and the fact that he's in the middle of scribbling his to-do list down. While his co-chief is perfectly competent, and the Gondian liaisons are trustworthy, it's bad policy to leave loose ends when he doesn't know how long he'll be gone. If Wulbren were to come back...that doesn't bear thinking on.
Finally, he's ready to talk, though, and immediately embarrassed to be told where his glasses are. He pats his head, retrieving them, and sighs. "Would you believe they're more of a hindrance? They seem to focus the light and my eyes can't take it. I need to get them re-made in tinted glass."
He folds them up and tucks them in a pocket, leaning back in his seat with his ale clasped loosely in one hand. His gaze is appraising now, focused mainly on Ashton's eyes, the way he speaks. Trying to get a feel for what sort of person he's dealing with. "I'm going back to my village in the Underdark. My youngest brother is ready for an apprenticeship, and he wants to come live with me, but the roads are far too dangerous for him to travel alone. They're too dangerous for me to travel alone, too."
"But the additional complication is that my village is...secretive. I can't travel with a caravan, and I need to be able to trust my guide not just with my life, but with my entire family's lives and livelihoods, and I'm aware that's a big ask."
Money is no object here, is the thing. But Barcus is canny enough to know if you advertise a job with that particular phraseology, you scare off the people who'd do something for the sake of goodness and invite the people who're just in it for gold. Which is why the word has gone around that it's more or less salary commensurate with ability.
"You would get only general directions at first, towards the Underdark and then towards the neighborhood of my village, but presumably after a few weeks walking through the wilderness with me you'd either have earned my trust or left me dead in a ditch somewhere, so--ah. That sounded harsh, I didn't mean you personally."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2024-12-27 06:49 pm (UTC)Finally, he's ready to talk, though, and immediately embarrassed to be told where his glasses are. He pats his head, retrieving them, and sighs. "Would you believe they're more of a hindrance? They seem to focus the light and my eyes can't take it. I need to get them re-made in tinted glass."
He folds them up and tucks them in a pocket, leaning back in his seat with his ale clasped loosely in one hand. His gaze is appraising now, focused mainly on Ashton's eyes, the way he speaks. Trying to get a feel for what sort of person he's dealing with. "I'm going back to my village in the Underdark. My youngest brother is ready for an apprenticeship, and he wants to come live with me, but the roads are far too dangerous for him to travel alone. They're too dangerous for me to travel alone, too."
"But the additional complication is that my village is...secretive. I can't travel with a caravan, and I need to be able to trust my guide not just with my life, but with my entire family's lives and livelihoods, and I'm aware that's a big ask."
Money is no object here, is the thing. But Barcus is canny enough to know if you advertise a job with that particular phraseology, you scare off the people who'd do something for the sake of goodness and invite the people who're just in it for gold. Which is why the word has gone around that it's more or less salary commensurate with ability.
"You would get only general directions at first, towards the Underdark and then towards the neighborhood of my village, but presumably after a few weeks walking through the wilderness with me you'd either have earned my trust or left me dead in a ditch somewhere, so--ah. That sounded harsh, I didn't mean you personally."