Kasmeer first heard of Marjory Delaqua in the Dead End Tavern, where she found a place to sleep. According to Rob, the owner, who tipped Kasmeer about the job, Marjory was "the moody detective girl" and "had a thing for corpses". Thankfully the barkeep interjected at this moment saying that she's a necromancer and, as far as he knows, there's nothing inappropriate about what she does with her minions.
"Yeah, yeah, I meant that. She's just a bit weird, you know? Keeps a lot to herself and the necro thing is kinda creepy. But she's nice and needs some help with papers, might give you a job if you ask."
"But sorry, you said your name is Meade? You're from this noble family that went under, right? I don't know, Rob, Marjory doesn't like nobles, she might throw the girl out without even listening. Her whole family is like that, I once dated one of her sisters."
"Yeah, I remember, the Seraph girl. You were drunk for a week after she dumped you."
"You didn't need to remind me that…" the blush on the barkeep's face almost hid all of his freckles, much to Rob's amusement.
"Your pride still hurts, eh? Don't worry Sean, there's plenty of girls out there." Rob turned back to Kasmeer "Anyway, yeah, Marjory has a thing against nobs, but I think she'll hear you out at least. She's not as bad as some people say. Just weird. And really needs help with those damn papers."
That didn't really give Kasmeer much hope. She didn't feel like she had any choice though. She already sold her jewelry and she'd rather die than sell her staff - the only memento she had left of her mother. If she wanted to eat, she had to get a source of income as soon as possible - and she wouldn't want to miss an opportunity just because she got scared of door shut in her face. It wouldn't be the first time anyway. For a brief moment she considered lying about her name, but decided against it. She might have lost everything, but she was Kasmeer Meade. The name had history, it connected her to her ancestors and her loved ones. Some things just can't be abandoned. So she gathered all her courage and, prepared for the worst, knocked on Marjory Delaqua's door.
And by some miracle it worked. Kasmeer felt a weird mix of joy and panic. On the one hand: she had a job, which she still found hard to believe, and that meant she could finally stop worrying so much about her shrinking reserve of money. On the other: she had a job and that meant stressing about a whole new range of issues. Unfamiliarity with the tasks would be the most obvious reason for a headache, but if Kasmeer had to be completely honest, her new boss troubled her much more. Marjory seemed polite enough, yes, and she offered employment almost without questions. Were Rob and Sean mistaken about the detective's biases? Or maybe it was a thing of the past? Kasmeer certainly hoped it to be, as the alternative might make her work quite an unpleasant experience. The way Marjory looked at her, or maybe it was something in the voice… Kasmeer couldn't help but think of a cat looking at a mouse unaware of its grim future.
She smiled when Sean offered her a celebratory drink on the house, but deep inside she couldn't stop thinking that something was bound to go wrong.