((x3))
If there was one thing that Neilson had learned, above all the fighting, the battle stances, tactics and weapon training, it was that a smile could go a lot further than a sword ever could. He was no stranger to violence really, if it had to be employed he would, but people often liked it when you talked gently and smiled earnestly at them. Guards were supposed to be the protectors of the people, but so many of them acted...unapproachable. Usually he even left his helmet at home so that he'd look less intimidating and he'd appear more friendly. Of course, appearing friendly and actually being friendly were two different things, and he made sure to be both!
The young woman seemed to be like that...she seemed to realize his authority and his command, but he hoped to simply put her at ease. He wanted her to know that he was by no means a threat, and had not come on any official business. It was amusing to him actually, he could just order a new cloak...tabard from supply...but he didn't like being such a bother. Especially if he could just get a new one made, or hopefully have this one saved. He didn't hold any real attachment to it though, so it wouldn't be like he were sad or anything like that.
As he searched her face, he noticed her eyes just weren't upon his at all times. Something was off about the woman, but he couldn't exactly tell what. Not only did her speech seemed so...practised and carefully spoken, but her eyes were more focused on his lips, on what he was saying. He had met eccentric people before, and maybe that's all this was...though he simply couldn't let it pass. Asking however would be incredibly rude...luckily he had a more...interesting way of accumulating hidden information.
It's what made him a good guard.
"Really now? That's quite wonderful news really!" His face lit up like a child's might when told they would receive a gift. It showed on every feature on his face, the slight grin touched even his eyes. As she opened the door for him he squeezed by her into her home, his eyes searching the surrounding area. It was a very worldly looking home, definitely that of a tradeswoman. His house was sparse when it came to personal objects, he barely had anything to his name. It was better that way. When she spoke he turned his attention to her, his eyes searching that young face of hers. "Esfia, a very pretty name, but I shouldn't be surprised." It was a name that he hadn't heard before, and that made it rather unique. However, he didn't want to say words like unique and special, people might get the wrong idea, as if he were patronizing them.
He'd never imagine a more honest woman than this, he saw the box with various precious commodities within it, and couldn't imagine someone not occasionally dipping their hand into it. However, she didn't seem like a woman of wealth and high stature, the gems were obviously for her business, not for personal use. He had to admire that in a person. Honesty, especially in Selevea he had heard, was a rare thing to come by. He was still observing all the cloths and clothes that she had made, barely noticing that she laid out food for him. The smell got his attention, and he found himself looking at the food with a strange hunger in his eyes. Would it be enough. That was always the question. What would be polite for that matter?
He took a bit of the chicken, as well as a slice of bread and tried to eat as slowly and as properly as possible. Usually he would just inhale food...of course, when he ate, he would be alone, or would be in a tavern of other people not unlike him who wouldn't find a voracious eater. He managed to finish what little he had taken, and his stomach...well, his chest rumbled hungrily. "No, we'll have a meal later." Neilson said in quiet tones, ones he hoped the woman would not hear. He was interrupted by the woman asking him to place the cloak upon the table, and he set about the many things he had to do. First, his halberdpiike had to be set aside, then his helmet, allowing for his shaggy brown hair to be free. Quickly, out of shame perhaps, he ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it out and look a little more presentable. Then his gauntlets had to be removed, as did the chest piece and small pauldrons on his shoulder. When all was said and done, he finally removed the cloak and tabard, leaving only his simply rust coloured tunic.
Carefully he placed the cloak upon the table and smiled at the seamstress. "Sorry it took so long, the armour sometimes takes a while." For a split second, one could swear that the fabric around his neck and chest had suddenly...moved a bit, as if he were harbouring a rat under his clothes. His eyes winced in some pain as this happened, and the smile on his face was more forced, as if one was simply bearing through the pain.
What a strange man she had let into her house.