"I didn't 'find' it. I own it. And I've got more." The finely cut jewels in the bag clinked nicely. The figure, cautious, hesitated to touch them.

"The fuck? Are you a noble?" His voice was hushed, tense.

"Something like that. Can you do the job?" The figured glanced quickly around the tavern before grabbing the bag and shoving it into his cloak, out of sight. "Twice as much if you finish."

"Yeah, I can do the fucking job! Double this for one guy?" Havard smiled, concealed behind his mask.

"Would you like me to pay less?" Havard could tell that the figure was getting annoyed with him.

"What's the catch? How do you know I won't just run off with your shit?" The figure still wouldn't take him at his word.

"I don't know. Make sure he's extra dead? Why would you 'run off' instead of collecting double what you already have?"

"... Who is he? Why is he worth so much?"

"Just do the job. Stop asking questions." The figure fell silent, as did Havard. The less the people down here knew, the better.

"When do we meet next?"

"How fast can you finish the job?"

"Give me three days, same time as today. The girl he's following around, she's an issue."

"Oh?" What had Emilian been doing down here?

"I can take care of it, though." The figure rose, pulling his hood back to reveal a marking at the top of his otherwise monochromic gray mask. A small star, made of some kind of metal. "She and I go way back."