A shadow fell on the Gate, cast by a cloaked figure that stood in the rain behind the guard startling him. The armed man turned around taking the torch and extending his left hand that held it while the right instictively moved to the sword that hanged from the side of his belt, the hooded man raised his hand to stop him.
"I came to talk to someone." he said and walked under the stall that was no empty since all the horses were in the stable. The guard nodded and leaned back against the wall, though he kept his guard high so that he wouldn't be taken by surprise. Soon another man came, dressed in black but without the intention to hide his identity, the guard turned around again but upon seeing his face he smiled and let out a sigh of relief before leaning back against the wall completely relaxed. The newcomer went up to the cloaked one and looked at him up and down, the light of the lamp wasn't enough to see his face's features, so he spoke first.
"I'm Fiontann, I got your letter." he said and tapped his chest, having the piece of parchment into the inner pocket of his jacket. The other man remained where he was and spoke in a low voice, so as not to be heard further from when Fion was standing. "I cannot reveal who I am, but you will get those two hundred silvers if you find and kill this man. As the poster says he killed many and he has to be stopped." Fiontann listened carefully and responded in a cold and serious voice "We are no sellswords to do this, you can find plenty of them in Bree." and made to turn around but the man spoke again.
"He killed some people, as well as those that hunted him, I have nowhere to go before he finds me..." and let out a long drawn sigh, Fiontann nodded and look where his eyes should be. "We'll do it then, but! If we deem that he doesn't deserve to die he'll he handed to the Watch..." he said, not happy to utter those last words and left.
Next day found Fiontann in the Prancing Pony, at his usual table, a tankard of ale containing a mixture of ale and whiskey and a parchment and the poster on the table, Rothrian came in and he explained to her the job. "We are no sellswords." was her response, as was his to the man, Fiontann smirked and spoke in a sarcastical manner, enjoying the thought, "No but it will be good and keep us in shape." while waving his eyepatch. "I read in a journal that I used to pretend to be a bounty hunter, why not now...". Rothrian grinned, "We both did." was her response and they left the inn.
The letter sent to Fion mentioned the Comb and Wattle Inn and the two headed there after Fiontann ordered Barliman a bag of provisions for around two days...
