"Hey watch what you're doooooARGH!"
The big man slipped down the stairs with a crash. Larry looked away from the head of the mop and up in genuine surprise. It seemed he just couldn't focus on anything today. Less then usual that is. He adjusted his robes self consciously and again directed his gaze towards the grimy stone floor. To him it seemed that mopping the floor, at least this floor, was pointless and that the academy knew it. The dirt was so thoroughly engrained in the stone that slopping water on it and messing it about with a mop was quite hopelessly futile. The only was to be sure to clean it was knocking down the entire building. Or just avoid looking at the floor. Surfacing to reality, he could hear the echoes of angry shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
Bracing her foot on his chest, she tugged her blade free from the gut of the corpse.
Squinting in the morning light she considered handing in her resignation. Her debut in the adventuring world didn't seem to live up to her expectations. With so many disappointments it was hard to stay optimistic, especially when her employer already owed her a week's wages. The job had sounded easy at first, just guard the caravan on its route from Crovanorr to the east until it reached it's destination of Sallith, the trading hub of the north. Introducing himself as Marco Hazeez, Marco failed to specify the caravan's merchandise and she, under the warm veil of alcohol had never asked. It had seemed such a minor detail, the excitement of her first contract but she was beginning to suspect the legitimacy of the contents. Despite her inexperience she was almost positive that wheat or cotton caravans didn't merit the...