Right. You refocus on the task at hand. Even with Rajirra’s help, you’re going to need a battleplan.
You’re pretty sure the shopkeeper will accept your help if you offer it, since it sounds like she wants those imps gone and you remember her mentioning the Fighter’s Guild was really expensive. And if she’s looking for a professional, Rajirra is a professional. She just has help from you.
Sure, you guess she could say no and hire professional fighters anyway, but you’re trying not to dwell on all the things that might go wrong. Dwelling on all the things that might go wrong is at least the fifth item down on your list of things to do. This is your first potentially real job in Kvatch, and you’ve got to stroll in there confident and collected, not full of doubts. And if you’re going to show the shopkeeper that you and Rajirra are professionals who can handle this, you’re going to need to show her the specific tactics and ideas you have in mind.
Okay, maybe you’ll… not show her that one. You’re pretty sure that one is a terrible idea that will only end in pain and disaster.
You guess the current plan is that Rajirra and you will burst into the room, do the scary Khajiit stare thing to scare the imps back out the window, and then… close or block it or something so they don’t come back in. This should work fine, assuming there are only two imps up there and you each scare a different one. If there’s a third, you can appropriate some shields for defense and Rajirra’s spear should be enough to… poke it to death, you guess. And if there are somehow even more, then…
Roll for small talk with Rajirra…
Add charisma modifiers…
Inevitably fail roll due to addition of negative modifiers…
You scamper over to Rajirra and ask her what the plan is. You assume the two of you are going to scare the imps away with your Khajiit magic if there are just two of them, but if there are more hiding up there, then you guess you’ll Eye of Fear the nearest two and then you’ll take point and bring up shields while Rajirra spears any imps that rush you? Unless she has a better idea?
She tells you that she is planning to go in there, run the imps out – or through – and get a reward. For both of your sakes, she hopes you pull your weight and aren’t useless.
You swear to her you’re not. You just want to make sure you know exactly what’s going to go down so you don’t make any mistakes or… stuff. Not that you usually make mistakes, you’re just trying to make sure this goes well. Like… come up with tactics.
Rajirra tells you not to get yourself killed, and try not to get in eachother’s way. You… admit those are both valid combat strategies. Yeah, you’ll do that.
Working together, also.
You have to admit, it is kinda exciting. Not only are you about to embark on an actual job to earn actual money, but you’re working with someone – not someone’s pity-trust, or with someone’s supervision, but with an equal. Well, maybe not an equal equal, but a seventy-thirty-equal is still better than you’re used to.
Sure, scaring little bat-demons isn’t the most glamorous thing in the world, and you’re not sure how much your partner likes you, but still: she seems reliable and you’re pretty sure the two of you have thought this through enough that it won’t backfire disastrously.
To break the ice a little, you decide to tell Rajirra a bit about yourself. You explain that you just came to Cyrodiil about a week ago, trying to set out and make a new life. You’ve been trying to make some deliveries to Kvatch for a good friend of yours, though the first time you sort of got robbed on the way there, and the second time you, ah… got robbed after you arrived. You guess when you came here you weren’t expecting so much… robbery.
This one has never noticed it, Rajirra says. Perhaps the problem is with you.
You admit that you might’ve made some mistakes in that regard. Like, trusting the wrong people, or maybe drinking copious quantities of the wrong things at the wrong time. But you still-
Rajirra cuts you off, saying she’s not interested in your excuses. She means a problem with your expectations. You said you came to Cyrodiil seeking new life; such implies an old life, yes?
I… yes, I had one. But it wasn’t one I wanted.
Rarely life is, Rajirra says. But, whatever life you held back in your homeland, it seemingly let you last this long, and presumably involved less risk, failure, and tediously inconvenienced “friends”. Perhaps in this old life you had found the high extent of your abilities, and there is only folly in these attempts to move beyond it or pursue some flawed human conception of dignity.
I don’t – h-hey! First of all, that’s dismal and stupid. You’re stupid. Second of all, it’s not a human conception of dignity, it’s a pretty Elven and Argonian one too! And third, you moved to Cyrodiil too! You said so yourself!
Rajirra specifies that she didn’t move to Cyrodiil, she fled to Cyrodiil. A functional Khajiit runs away from danger, not headlong toward it. And she’s not stupid, she’s a realist. She has no delusions of gaining great respect in human lands and becoming some fairytale princess living in a castle.
I’m not trying to become a p-
Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid. This is just kind of something I care about. Are we still friends?
We were never friends, Rajirra says.
Okay, but like… are we less friends than we were before?
No, she says.
I’ll take it.
Oh my gods, just because the two of you are Khajiit doesn’t mean you’re going to break into the place.
See? She knows you’re here, and what you are doing. Everything is legal and fine.
You put on your best formal-face and tell the shopkeeper you are here to inquire about a job. Specifically, a job regarding those imps in her attic. You explain that you and your fr-acquaintance have a plan to get them out, assuming she still needs them out and is paying.
The shopkeeper nods and says you came just in time. If you can go any lower than the 200 septims Mr. Fighter’s Guild over there is asking for the job, it’s yours. You ask if 199 septims is okay. She asks if maybe you could go a little lower, to account for any inventory losses.
You ask her what she means. You know, she says. Things that might get damaged if you fight the imps. Oh, you say. Yeah. That’s, that’s ah… what you assumed she meant, and nothing else. Let’s say 190.
The shopkeeper asks you what your plans are. You explain that the two of you are going to enter the attic like a pair of respectable Khajiit, and then tackle the problem head-on. Like Khajiit, or any of the other races in Cyrodiil.
Yep. Just like a pair of Khajiit.
Additional resource credits:
Cider – all the good panels
Sqiggles – all the good inking