![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
but_can_i_be_trusted posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
whatif_auTitle: 'Rendal'
Author:but_can_i_be_trusted
Fandom: Original Fiction
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted togenprompt_bingo
Summary: He'd pored over every detail, until he was sure that he had it memorized.
Rendal leaned back in his office chair. His eyes ran across his desk, at the items arranged there.
A tattered and partially burned parchment map stretched the length of the desk's surface. He'd pored over every detail, until he was sure that he had it memorized. It was the way he preferred to operate; a map could easily be lost or destroyed, so Rendal always made sure to etch the maps he acquired into his memory, just to be on the safe side.
Atop the map rested a thick envelope. It partially contained his fee; also crammed in was a letter from the client who'd commissioned him, detailing the situation, and what was expected in exchange for the enclosed wad of bills. Beside it was Rendal's compass, banged up from much use over the years.
Leaning in, Rendal extracted the letter, rereading the finer points. He'd been asked to enter a high-risk area, in order to retrieve a treasure that the client's ancestors had allegedly hidden away there. A corrupt local government, and an equally untrustworthy rebel faction, were both anxious to get their hands on it. The client was deeply worried that his inheritance would fund some bad end in some unscrupulous and conscience-destroying manner.
Rendal smirked. He knew from experience that what a client claimed, and what was true, didn't always coincide. He'd know more, however, when he was on-site. The sooner that moment came, the better.
He set the letter aside, thumbing once again through the money that had come with it. The fee was a hefty one, but the client had readily agreed to the terms. Interesting; they tended to haggle before reluctantly agreeing to a price. This one hadn't even hesitated.
In a way, Rendal wished that he'd asked for double, or even triple the price. But that would be an unsporting attitude; ordinarily, he'd have been happy to work for only half of his usual fee. The adventure was part of the reward.
But, then, adventure didn't put a roof over his head, or pay for food and clothing and various other necessities. Man could not live on adventure alone.
At any rate, Rendal couldn't.
Author:
but_can_i_be_trustedFandom: Original Fiction
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted to
genprompt_bingoSummary: He'd pored over every detail, until he was sure that he had it memorized.
Rendal leaned back in his office chair. His eyes ran across his desk, at the items arranged there.
A tattered and partially burned parchment map stretched the length of the desk's surface. He'd pored over every detail, until he was sure that he had it memorized. It was the way he preferred to operate; a map could easily be lost or destroyed, so Rendal always made sure to etch the maps he acquired into his memory, just to be on the safe side.
Atop the map rested a thick envelope. It partially contained his fee; also crammed in was a letter from the client who'd commissioned him, detailing the situation, and what was expected in exchange for the enclosed wad of bills. Beside it was Rendal's compass, banged up from much use over the years.
Leaning in, Rendal extracted the letter, rereading the finer points. He'd been asked to enter a high-risk area, in order to retrieve a treasure that the client's ancestors had allegedly hidden away there. A corrupt local government, and an equally untrustworthy rebel faction, were both anxious to get their hands on it. The client was deeply worried that his inheritance would fund some bad end in some unscrupulous and conscience-destroying manner.
Rendal smirked. He knew from experience that what a client claimed, and what was true, didn't always coincide. He'd know more, however, when he was on-site. The sooner that moment came, the better.
He set the letter aside, thumbing once again through the money that had come with it. The fee was a hefty one, but the client had readily agreed to the terms. Interesting; they tended to haggle before reluctantly agreeing to a price. This one hadn't even hesitated.
In a way, Rendal wished that he'd asked for double, or even triple the price. But that would be an unsporting attitude; ordinarily, he'd have been happy to work for only half of his usual fee. The adventure was part of the reward.
But, then, adventure didn't put a roof over his head, or pay for food and clothing and various other necessities. Man could not live on adventure alone.
At any rate, Rendal couldn't.
