She was bored with this conversation, and it had hardly begun.
Núria sighed as she glanced across the rowdy bar, the sailors clustered around her at various tables clearly hitting the peak of their inebriation as their songs and laughter rose up from the crowd. Tourists, she almost rolled her eyes, though deep down she understood these transient visitors were the bread and butter that kept her favorite tavern tidy and efficient. They are certainly more reliable about paying their tabs than the locals, she nearly chuckled at her own joke.

In front of her, her… ahem… business associate was mumbling out his usual excuses. She'd heard them all before. It was all quite boring, truly.

"…So why haven't I seen any of it yet?" Glaring eyes bore down on the 'merchant'.

"Lady Núria, we cannot get the shipment across the Mountains without a full guard against robbers and wyverns–and the snows at this time of the year–"

"Don't you 'Lady' me. I don't want your excuses–I want my delivery. For example, a shipment of this size should never take more than a week to arrive from Vilpamolan. Honestly, I'd expect better from you by now." She paused for effect. "Ol' Darus wants his cut of the profit, eh?" The businesswoman reached for the partial payment remitted, digging into the drawstring pouch to fish out a handful of coins. She slowly flicked the coins onto the rough wooden table, each one landing with a slight clink.

As she watched the man's face pale, and Núria smiled in satisfaction. There it is…. She looked up as the last coin dropped and sighed in apparent disappointment at her company. And suddenly, her arm shot across the table and seized the man's collar, yanking him towards her. The bar patrons around them carried on noisily with their merriment, apparently not taking notice of the activity in a dim corner of The Winking Mermaid.

"Listen closely," she growled, the look on her face turning cold and dangerous. The man's eyes widened in fear as hers flashed with fire. "I could have gotten those shipments here from across the mountains last week, all by my little self, had I desired. Tell your captain to keep his greedy paws off my goods…He can come talk to me in person if he's got a problem with it, not send one of his lackeys."

With that, still holding onto his collar, Núria stood up abruptly and tossed the man across the walkway, towards the door. In that moment, the tavern around her quieted, finally noticing the disturbance. Núria was too incensed to worry about causing a scene, however. "I want it ready and waiting on me by the time I get to Egjora, understand? I have a reputation to uphold. Now, get. out. of. my. bar."

With panicked stammerings of apology, the man dashed out of the doorway into the night. The tavern atmosphere had tensed considerably, but they just as soon went back to their own interests after the man's unceremonious eviction. After all, Núria was a regular. One that usually paid her tab, even.

Settling down into her corner seat, back to the wall, the woman eyed the scattered coins on the table. She picked up a few again, expertly weighing them in her palm. They hadn't sounded right when she handled them before.

Hmm… these aren't pure gold–maybe 3/4 with copper cores, based on their weight…

Núria shook her head. "You'd think they'd learn by now… Black market simpletons…"

They'll pay for this one, by monetary means or other…

With the last curses at the merchants grumbled under her breath, she reached for the small pouch of coins and secured them on her hip. "I could really use a drink," she growled to herself.

Only a few short weeks had passed and Icarus was in the midst of his travels from Mamlak to the sovereignty of Adeluna.  In this instance, he had accepted a job of aiding a merchant in his travels as a mercenary swordsman.  The trip, overall, had been rather simple and the routes they followed gave rise to additional sources of income for a short time as they transitted through the jungle and across the Bohar Plains.  He developed a slightly favorable rapport with a few of the trading towns that stopped along the way.  
His efforts had brought them here safely and the pair had parted company on favorable terms with some contact information concerning a certain woman that likely would need his assistance as well.  He would have to travel into a certain tavern named "The Winking Mermaid" if he was ready to accept the contract.  As it turned out, there was a shipment that had some issue in its transport and given his dedication to his charge, the merchant he had worked with suggested he seek out his acquaintance.  

As it turned out, she was a regular of the establishment and though he had arrived hours prior to her outburst and carefully cased the location out, he hadn't expected her to behave as rashly as she had.  Choosing to not draw attention to himself, Icarus had ordered watered down drinks for some time to gain a fundamental understanding of the individual with whom he would likely seek employment from.  

In his journal, he made notes of her personality and the aggression she showed in addition to the raw physical power she held to throw a man several feet with relative ease.  Icarus didn't look down on women, he simply understood there were certain physical differences between them more often than not and physical strength was chief among them.  On the other hand, women were often far more cunning.  It was an evolutionary means of balancing the scale.  When it came to this woman, it seemed that perhaps Nuria was better able to blur the lines than most.

He wondered for a moment just how the merchant he had traveled with could know of the trouble with her shipment when she was only just finding out the startling revelation of her tradecraft at this moment.  It was something he would delve into later.  Perhaps he was merely well-informed, though it seemed a bit more likely he had a connection to someone that had a hand in the issue.  

Never taking his eyes off her, Icarus heard her words as she exclaimed her need for a beverage.  This, if anything, would likely serve as the ice breaker and if she chose to be more trouble than she was worth, he could simply break ties at that moment and depart, seeking employment elsewhere.  Signalling to the barmaid, Icarus ordered a shot of whiskey for her, paying upfront for the drink and having the woman take a note to her for him.  "Having a bit of trouble, are we?  Perhaps we can both come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."

He figured that at the very least, it would catch her attention and prompt a conversation.  Icarus deduced, based on her previous behavior, that she would show a form of aggression at first, possibly even attempting to threaten in some manner or another before he could defuse the situation.  If it came to blows, he had enough confidence that he could reach a stalemate despite his weakened condition.  With that thought in mind, he drank a hearty mouthful of ale.

Ousting the lout from the bar was somewhat dissatisfying. Núria desired a better form of retribution, she realized, as the fraudulent coins clinked on her hip. She'd have to figure out a safe way to unload this useless currency – or better yet, feed it back to the counterfeiters who tried to scam her. And that would only be the beginning. Her lips curled into a pleased smirk. Business would be slow for awhile yet, as she sought to establish contacts – or a network, even – here in Adeluna. Plenty of time to mete out punishment. It'd give Núria something to occupy her time, in any case.

Now, about that drink…

Across the tavern, Núria caught the eye of a middle-aged woman behind the counter, signalling her over. The barmaid returned her gesture with a nod of acknowledgement and a warm smile. Efficiently, she finished pouring the drinks she was in the process of serving and walked toward the Núria's corner table.

Weaving through the crowd of swaying, bumping customers, she quickly arrived; Núria was not surprised, given her experience with The Winking Mermaid. The tavern was a well-run business, which Núria respected, and had quickly become one of her usual haunts. What did surprise her, however, was when the woman smacked down a small glass swishing with amber liquid.

She blinked at it for a moment. "Uhhhh…" Núria slowly reached for her (legitimate) coins, but the barmaid gently shook her head. "Your gentlemen friend at the bar already took care of it, dearie," the woman explained with a wink, dropping a small note beside the glass. She turned on her heel and wove back through the crowd to her post before Núria had a chance to ask anything more.

'Gentleman friend'? She hardly had any friends, never mind in this city. Ignoring the note, Núria scanned the bar, quickly sizing up possible targets. She seemed to feel his eyes on her before she spotted him, senses on edge. A lone anomaly stood out to her, unmoving against the swaying huddles of sailors singing off-key. She met his gaze deliberately, studying him. Núria did not recognize him, or mark him has one of the Mermaid usuals.

He appeared to have selected the usual tankard, and… Is that a book? A book in a bar. Núria nearly shook her head, incredulous. Some people these days. Who brings a book into a bar???

Gleaning as much as she could from staring back at this stranger, Núria's gaze then dropped to the table, to the note accompanying the drink. "Having a bit of trouble, are we? Perhaps we can both come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." She raised a brow. 'Bit of trouble' was escaping a murderous horde of pirate bounty hunters on her way out of Vilpamolan… this was a minor bump, relatively speaking.

She looked back up, not surprised he was still looking her way. Ugh, swordsmen. He didn't seem to have any insignia markings of the Adeluna military or law enforcement organizations, and he appeared to be alone. Perhaps a mercenary of some sort, then, a sellsword. Regardless, Núria often avoided his type; their simplistic views of 'wrong' and 'right' generally led to lectures on where she went wrong in life, and how she should fix it, at the very least.

Still…. a drink was a drink. She had nothing better to do with her night but figure out why this odd stranger with a book felt the need to send her one. She certainly wouldn't fight this man in an alley, but in a public bar full of rowdy visitors and other regulars such as herself, there was no immediate threat. He seemed to want her attention for some reason, but of course was playing games about it. Well, no matter. If it was games he wanted, she could wield feminine wiles same as any other.

Núria rolled the note between two fingers until it formed a slender scroll. Casually leaning back, she tipped the paper toward the wall torch and lit it on fire, still holding the gaze of the stranger at the bar. When the flame reached her fingers, she dropped it onto the table, where the charred scrap curled onto itself before the flame fizzled into smoke. Sliding around the table, glass in hand, Núria checked her daggers with a subtle pat of her free hand before sauntering across the room.

The businesswoman weaved through the crowd, sliding up beside the man. She clinked her small shot glass against his ale tankard and flashed her most charming smile, tapping the glass against the worn wooden top of the bar before downing the drink in a gulp. "You really shouldn't have," Núria told him with a wink, "I never mix business with pleasure. Now we'll have to finish drinking before we can talk about arrangements of any sort."

Setting the glass down gently, she kept her index finger on the rim, spinning it on an tilt against the bar for a minute. "I presume that… bit of trouble…. as you called him, is currently slinking back to Vilpamolan, tail tucked, thinking how exactly to inform his boss that he couldn't con me." She sighed. "But it will be quite a bit more trouble when they come back in force. Ah, well… I have a couple weeks for that, at least."

The glass thunked back on the bar as she released it. "You know, if people just did what I wanted them to do, when I wanted them to do it, my life would be a lot easier." Núria chuckled quietly.

Icarus watched as the barmaid carried out his wishes, an extra few coins for her services waiting for her upon her return.  It took a moment, but at last, the woman noticed him now.  He didn't mind that she disposed of the note he had written as he would have done the same if the roles had been reversed.  The sailors around him in the bar were an annoying bunch of fools that sang loudly and caused earaches for those that liked their music to at least follow a tune.  Still, it would do much to deafen their conversation from prying ears.

As expected, the woman remained cautious as he studied her form, attempting to subtly ensure her weapons were prepared in the event things took a sour turn.  Icarus refused to allow violence to come to pass if it was dependent upon his initiation.  The mug in his hand was sturdy enough to trap a short blade enough to prevent it from piercing his flesh once, not likely twice, however.  

Her behavior and words came as a slight change of pace, but Icarus knew better than to look into them too deeply as any form of flirtation or actual interest in him aside from a thinly-veiled curiosity to probe him for information.  She was attempting to put him off-guard to make him easier to manipulate.  Unfortunately, he had already witnessed the tip of the proverbial iceberg to her ruthlessness when angered, preventing any such possibility.

"I'd rather not have you worrying about this being pleasure aside from the possible pleasure of seeing an injustice corrected quickly.  After such a situation has been corrected, the rest is negotiable," he said, indicating that perhaps he knew more than she had originally thought.

Indeed, he knew of an issue concerning a shipment of some value to her.  Icarus didn't know what the shipment actually was, but he was willing to hear out the details of the assignment were if she were prepared to divulge the information.  After all, he wouldn't do anything too immoral and would not chastise her for her decisions or beliefs.  As a professional, he was above interjecting his own code of conduct and forcing his thoughts on others.  If it simply went against him or rubbed him the wrong way, he wouldn't accept.

Her mention of the man she ejected from the bar returning with others made his ears perk up a bit.  Just how bad had the situation degraded?  Money was money, but he was unsure if he could manage against too many foes at once without some sort of prior planning.  He thrived in situations he could plan properly, his ability to see through the machinations of others set him apart in war and kept him alive through far too many situations.  

"Prior to my arrival here, I was on assignment protecting a merchant en route from Mamlak.  He mentioned he was familiar with you and indicated you were having some issue with a shipment of some sort.  I take it he had some sort of insider information prior to your meeting with that other man after seeing your reaction.  This makes me ready to hear more of the situation if you would be willing to divulge it and if I am satisfied, I'll offer my services," he extrapolated, laying the entirety of his knowledge on the table for her so she could decide whether she would choose to continue or not.

Her pessimistic jest put a grin on his face.  If only she knew just how often that had rang true for him too.  She sat to his left so he took a swig with his right hand, not allowing his left arm to break his peripheral view of her although his eyes did not follow her.  Icarus sat in a way that would permit him to see any sudden motion she could perform and react accordingly, likely by slamming the mug over her hand and creating space to draw her into the street.  With the revelation that he knew of her problem even before she did, it presented a new line of questioning and possible confrontation.  

"Yep, that's been my experience too.  That's why I quit depending on others and do most things myself, these days," he agreed as he lowered the mug once more.

What did he mean, these days?  He couldn't even fathom how appropriate his statement actually was.  Icarus had been depending on others for the past few weeks until he made the contract with the merchant.  Before that, he was mush that had been dead and was reanimated solely by the last of his dark magic.  He returned to life weakened to the point of being akin to a plague sufferer, but he regained most of his strength with help from others.  If only he could have regained his magic as well instead of returning to the basics of his training.

Now, he relied on others, a far cry from the slayer of demons and evil men he had been.  Those days were gone, but not the lessons he learned from it.  He would continue on his own for some time until he could gather suitable allies.  This woman was but a stepping stone toward that goal.

"Barmaid, another round for myself and my lovely companion, here," he signalled, dropping a few of his remaining coins on the counter as she proceeded to refill their drinks.  Alcohol had the effect of being a double-edged sword.  Between the two of them, he hoped it could relax them more and placate her into sharing when she saw how open he was and not cause her more violent tendencies to manifest once more.  He didn't like being thrown and would probably return the favor.