Javik sat down at his preferred shady corner in The Tasty Tankard. A silly name for a tavern, but he supposed that one couldn't be choosey this far from the main cities. It was a business after all, likely generational. Some grandfather's grandfather decided the name would bring plenty of gold on the road, only for it to turn into a curse of mockery centuries down the line. Javik internally chuckled at the thought. Today's business was a new step for him: Rather than take a contract, he'd offer one. Of course, he was still going to partake in the action. He just needed a new associate to help him.
There was a man somewhere in this village with a bounty on his head. Small, but enough to pay the bills. What better way of hunting him down than teaching some newcomer the ropes? There was some fun to be had, he supposed. He decided it'd be an open contract; first come, first serve. No need for a vetting process. Any mercenary worth their salt would be able to keep up, and if not, well it was on them for being fools in the first place. Javik took a swig of his brandy as he waited for word to get around town. Hopefully someone would show, and soon.
His aging eyes watched the entrances and exits to the tavern, counting every body that walked through. He counted the bodies in the tavern. Years of experience taught him to watch the people and the environment, for there was no telling when his own assailants would come after him. The day would come when he'd have to stop running and take a stand. For now, though, bills needed to be paid. In blood.
There was a man somewhere in this village with a bounty on his head. Small, but enough to pay the bills. What better way of hunting him down than teaching some newcomer the ropes? There was some fun to be had, he supposed. He decided it'd be an open contract; first come, first serve. No need for a vetting process. Any mercenary worth their salt would be able to keep up, and if not, well it was on them for being fools in the first place. Javik took a swig of his brandy as he waited for word to get around town. Hopefully someone would show, and soon.
His aging eyes watched the entrances and exits to the tavern, counting every body that walked through. He counted the bodies in the tavern. Years of experience taught him to watch the people and the environment, for there was no telling when his own assailants would come after him. The day would come when he'd have to stop running and take a stand. For now, though, bills needed to be paid. In blood.
04-27-2024, 08:55 PM
