It all hinged on the city. She hadn't realised until she'd arrived just how much she had banked on finding the branch of the Kellith family which had settled there in the last half century or so and being reunited. Perhaps they would have information she could use, perhaps they would not. But they would welcome her, and the staff she carried, and they would set her on a path to her goal.
They hadn't. Hadn't been there, hadn't welcomed her, hadn't offered her advice or a headstart, or food or stories. No one had heard of a family named Kellith. No one would help her without money, or without favours she was not about to provide.
For the first few nights she had slept on the streets, half awake and clutching her belongings close by. The noise and the people were terrifying; fights broke out and were left to end on their own, and people of all races mingled in numbers far greater than she had ever seen.
Her purse, already small, had dwindled swiftly, and by the end of her first week she was faced with the very real possibility of starvation. This was not how it was supposed to be. This was not the plan she'd had when setting out from Divinity's Reach, brimming with anger and ready for anything. Everything had gone...wrong.
Sheer desperation sent her down to the docks, where she found a one-off job as a mercenary on a trade ship travelling along the coast. The work was foul, and the pay not much better, and she vowed to never work on a ship again.
No one in a city made of wood wanted the skills of an elementalist specialising mostly in fire and air. As her purse grew empty for the second time, she changed tact, and looked around for tailoring work. She'd never been especially good at it, but at least she had a bit of an edge from growing up in the business.
After several days of fruitless searching, she was taken on by a woman who Tiersu could have sworn was a thousand years old, and as mean as they came. But the offer of not only a job but a bed with it was too good to turn down, even if that meant, when she'd bought food as cheaply as she dared, she was left with just a few coppers at the end of each day. Saving enough to travel again was going to take some time.
The work was hard, and demoralising. She'd never wanted to go into the family business in the first place, and taking on tailors' work dented her pride and her spirit. But as the weeks went by, it was hard to foresee a way out of it. Her 18th birthday came and went without fanfare or word from her parents, though she had scraped together the money for a letter to Kinu to let them know that she had arrived in Lion's Arch and was “hale”. Whether the letter had actually reached them was another matter of course, but she had held out a tiny shred of hope that at least her sisters would keep up contact with her, if her parents wouldn't. Now that had been dashed as well.
A week or so after her birthday, a letter finally arrived. It was short, and Kinu's handwriting was rushed and untidy.
“Hey 'Su, glad to hear you are doing well. I wish I could send good tidings, but I don't dare show Papa your letter, although Mama sends her love. Papa is not well, and I fear his meeting with Grenth draws ever closer. I did hint to Mama that they ought to write to you, but He will not hear your name spoken in the house. I am sorry, sister. I write this at the messenger post. With love, Kinu.”
She snapped. Saving and saving and never going out had netted her pitifully little thus far, and had made her downright miserable. Well, gods be damned, she needed to get out of her alcove in the attic for one night, and do something to take her mind off things. She made for the cheapest tavern she knew of, and burned through half her savings on a single glass of wine.
The next morning was awful. Nursing a headache – that had been her first drop of alcohol in months – she got through her work, then went to buy breakfast. A storm was brewing offshore, and the air was even more thick and muggy than it usually was away from the docks.
She didn't have time to go down to the beach, instead eating her meal as she walked back to Edith's shop, which was far sturdier than the shack she rented out to her staff. Once there, she tried to take her verbal beating for being late with good grace. The old woman was some kind of demon, after all. The shock should be if she wasn't a vicious bully on any one occasion.
The storm struck as she made her way home, dousing the streets with rain, and whipping her hair about her face with the strength of the wind. Reaching her room, she realised with dismay that water was coming in in about a dozen places, and her bedding was soaked through. She stripped the sheet off of her bed and poked it into the biggest hole, then rummaged in her pack for her sleeping roll. She spent the night curled up inside it, sleeping only when the storm blew out in the small hours of the morning, and she could spare a little energy to light a fire and dry her bedding a little.
Early the following morning, dripping wet, she wrapped as much of her bedding and extra clothes as she could handle into a large bundle, and lugged them down the narrow staircase to the street. Still grumpy from lack of sleep, she shook them out one by one and started drying them, calling a stiff breeze to blow as much of the water out as she dared this close to other people and their homes. It left her tired, and old Edith was unhappy enough with her work that she docked her the day's pay.
Fuming, exhausted and above all hungry, Tiersu made her way home. The streets were still riddled with puddles, and, distracted, she tripped and fell face first into a muddy patch. Her temper, which had been fraying all day, snapped. Standing up, she shook with rage, wiping her face and flinging the glob of mud to the ground with a scream. She followed it up with a bolt of lighting, which blasted the mud, baking it and the ground around it solid. Then she turned her attention to the puddle, boiling the water off and baking the mud hard.
Passers by were staring at her, and she flushed red, disguising her embarrassment by zapping another puddle dry. They watched on, and realising they expected a show, she turned her attention to her clothes, brushing the mud off more conventionally. After a minute or so the crowd moved on, except for an asura who waddled up to her, an odd look on his face which Tiersu couldn't exactly place, but which she knew she didn't like.
“You. Bookah. Girl. I have a proposition for you which it would be in your best interest to pay close attention to. I shall be embarking shortly upon an expedition to the Black Citadel, and from there into the territories skirting its outskirts, and I have reason to suppose that the skills which you have exhibited her will be of benefit to my cause. I'll pay you, of course, and there will be a moderate allowance for any expenses you incur so long as they are within reason, not including expenses incurred for behaviour deemed illegal or unwise. I won't add leniency for your age and your race I'm afraid but those are the terms I offer.”
Tiersu stared at him, taking a moment or two to catch up due to the speed at which he spoke. Then she was nodding, agreeing to anything as long as it included the prospect of money and a way out of Lion's Arch, however brief.
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