Amaranth walked through the streets of Vilpamolan with a certain swagger, despite being a relatively small woman. She looked at the varying stalls, selling food, clothing, and straight up contraband. She was approached by more than one drunken sailor asking if she wanted company for the night, or was willing to provide company for a fee. While Amaranth was typically not hard to offend, she found herself more perplexed than anything - her leather top was in the shape of a corset, sure, but by no means did she look like a whore. For one, her clothing, hair, and basically everything else was kept in better condition than those belonging to the local working girls, and better even than most of the local mercenaries.
That was why she was in this cesspit of a city to begin with. Mercenaries. Amaranth had recently mastered a number of new spells, and wanted to try them out while earning some coin. Despicable as the city in general was, at least there was a thriving market for contraband and mercenaries there. Amaranth had looked at a number of companies, but neither captain had seemed to possess anything but cotton between their ears. She approached a relatively small band, and approached the man she assumed was the captain.
“Afternoon,” she said, grabbing the man’s attention. “I’m looking for work. Scout and survivalist. Name’s Amaranth,” she said, brusquely. The man eyed her up and down for a brief moment. “‘Ello, Amaranth. Scout and survivalist, eh? Any good with a bow?” The man’s voice was gruff but not unpleasant, Amaranth decided. And he seemed ready to listen to her, which was more than could be said for others. “Not bow, but I can cast.” Amaranth demonstratively flexed her hand, casing vines of poison ivy to grow up along her legs (she remained unaffected). The captain looked at her curiously. “Magic can be plenty useful,” he said, stroking his beard curiously. “But anyone can pull off a parlour trick. Can you show off something a bit more compelling?” Amaranth thought on that for a moment. “It’ll be uncomfortable for you.” “I can handle discomfort,” the man replied with a stoic grin. Amaranth waved her hand in a wide arc, her eyes glowing deep purple. “Curse of the Dry Twig.” The mercenary captain immediately felt stiff and nauseous, and had in fact been turned rather brittle to boot. Amaranth lifted the curse in a few seconds, however.
“I can shift, too. I will not tell you into what before I can trust you.” The captain took a few deep breaths. “Fair’s fair, lass. Marcus here is scoutmaster, he’ll give you your assignment.” The captain gestured at a man seated next to him, who greeted Amaranth with a lazy half-salute. “Got an Egjoran fellow by the name of, ah, Eren von Freilund. Check in with him, you’ll be foraging together.” Amaranth cocked an eyebrow, curious. “Von Freilund. That’s a nobleman’s surname,” she said, her attention piqued. The lieutenant called Marcus just shrugged. “He’s educated, that’s for sure,” he just replied, and gave no indication that he wanted to discuss it further. Amaranth looked to the captain. “I assume standard mercenary guild’s mage rates apply?” The captain looked at her with a shrug. “Sure, if you pull your weight. Most of your pay will be loot and salvage, anyway,” he said, indicating he was done with her.
Amaranth, being satisfied with the down-to-earth nature of her new employers, looked around the party for Eren von Freilund. Finally, she spotted a man who seemed to fit the description - well-groomed, carrying a bow, proud stature. He was reading a book, it seemed, and as she got closer, Amaranth could make out the title: Flora and Fauna in Vilpamolan and Virans Forest, it read, a straightforward title for a straightforward book. Amaranth approached, lowering the book with her index finger, to get the man’s attention. “No need. I know all the wildlife in the area, and I’m to be your foraging partner,” she stated, before holding out a hand for him to shake. She noted he was a rather handsome man, and hoped he had a wit to match his appearance. “Amaranth Rose. Yes, my name means what you think it means,” she said, holding a finger over her lips, indicating she didn’t want the rest of the company to know about her family.