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Talia Scuirida Talia Scuirida pushed open the Guild Hall doors with a swagger in her step and a triumphant sway of her tail. The jeweled idol clinked inside her satchel, every sound of it a reminder of her latest victory. She’d beaten Hour to the prize, and better yet, left them dangling in her little snare for the dungeon bats to mock. Her note—tied neatly to a boot lace—had read, 'Next time, darling, try looking up'. The memory of it made her grin widen as she crossed the noisy hall.
The Guild bustled with the usual crowd: adventurers boasting about slaying beasts, clerks tallying coins, mercenaries griping about poor pay. None of it mattered to Talia. She was flush with the thrill of winning, alive with that singular joy only a rivalry like hers could spark. Most foes she outpaced too easily; only Hour pushed her to her limits, and though she would never admit it aloud, she cherished every scrap of the chase. With each victory she carved her name deeper into the game they played, and Saints, she wanted them to carve theirs into her just as deeply.
The clerk was already reaching for her ledger when the doors behind Talia slammed open with a crash. Every head in the hall turned. Dust clung to Hour’s clothes as they strode inside, eyes locked on her like a hawk’s. Talia’s ears flicked, her tail puffing in delighted surprise. They’d gotten free faster than she’d expected—faster than anyone else ever could. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she slid the satchel onto the counter. “Escaped already?” she murmured, voice carrying just enough for Hour to hear. “Guess I’ll have to get more creative.”
The Guild bustled with the usual crowd: adventurers boasting about slaying beasts, clerks tallying coins, mercenaries griping about poor pay. None of it mattered to Talia. She was flush with the thrill of winning, alive with that singular joy only a rivalry like hers could spark. Most foes she outpaced too easily; only Hour pushed her to her limits, and though she would never admit it aloud, she cherished every scrap of the chase. With each victory she carved her name deeper into the game they played, and Saints, she wanted them to carve theirs into her just as deeply.
The clerk was already reaching for her ledger when the doors behind Talia slammed open with a crash. Every head in the hall turned. Dust clung to Hour’s clothes as they strode inside, eyes locked on her like a hawk’s. Talia’s ears flicked, her tail puffing in delighted surprise. They’d gotten free faster than she’d expected—faster than anyone else ever could. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she slid the satchel onto the counter. “Escaped already?” she murmured, voice carrying just enough for Hour to hear. “Guess I’ll have to get more creative.”
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