His partner chose that moment to elbow him hard in the ribs, making him choke. "Hup, look sharp Oss, someone's comin'." As Oss recovered from his coughing fit, the other man, oblivious, added, "Looks weird."
"Damn it, Rig, I would've seen 'em sooner or later." He squinted down the path, but couldn't make out much but a distant blur. "What's so weird got's your nose out of joint anyway."
"Looks green," said Rig. "And big ol' ears I think. Or a hat."
"Well, he's comin' pretty slow, but in few minutes you can ask where he got it. Now shut up and stand up straighter." And they stood and waited, trying to look the part.
By the time Ethel got there, they were failing to look the part. She could tell she was the subject of much hushed and furious speculation. She smiled at the guardsmen in a way she hoped would be taken as friendly and tried to hurry through. But here came the familiar cry, "Oi, hold it right there, you," and she rolled her eyes and turned to receive her punishment.
Oss cleared his throat. "State your business!" Rig stood slightly behind him, peering around at her, his eyebrows crawling further and further up his forehead.
She scratched her head, trying to decide on the line a couple of public servants were most likely to swallow. For once, she decided to try the truth, or some of it, anyway. "I'm an alchemist and a mage, sirs, come to ply my trade and join the Academy. Buy an unguent?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.
Rig raised a finger and started to open his mouth, nodding, but Oss spoke first. "You ain't no mage. Mages is old men with long beards and pointy hats. That or elves. You's about as far from either of those as I can think of." Rig's nod morphed into a disapproving shake.
Ethel heaved a theatrical sigh. "You've caught me out, gen'lmen. I'm a whore from Sasserine, an' I heard the madames around here care for their girls better'n we're used to up there. Buy an 'unguent'?"
They stared in shock. Slowly, Rig started to raise a finger again, but Oss turned to him in horror and smacked his hand down. Then he sharply returned his gaze to Ethel and demanded, "What the hell are you, anyway?"
She looked down at herself like she'd never considered this question before, then shrugged up at him. "Half-orc?"
"Half-orc!" he said. "You're barely three feet tall!"
She nodded. "Right, about half an orc. Any other questions?"
Oss shut his eyes and massaged his temples, waving her on. "Whatever. Go on, get out of my sight. Don't cause any trouble." He began to walk back to his post, and Ethel strode into the city. Hesitantly, Rig called after her, "Good luck, miss!"
* * *
After she was gone, Oss fixed Rig with a hard stare. "Are you fuckin' serious?"
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