Not-so-distant thunder rolled through the black storm clouds overhead, flashes of lightning emphasizing their presence and lighting the clouds here and there from time to time. Bolts of lightning rained terror down on the streets below, fear felt only by those who did not like the storm. But Jaxon Creed was not one such man. He loved the storm. He loved the torrential rains driving hard into the ground, blown by the high winds that sent a chill biting through the warmest garments. Jaxon's own garb protected him from the storm as he enjoyed its fury, mother nature raining her power down upon those in the crime-filled street below. Outside the pub, the storm raged and inside the pub, Jaxon watched it all with satisfaction. Now, this was good weather. He loved this.

He took a drink of his ale, continuing to watch the storm for a moment before he turned back to the dark-cloaked and hooded stranger before him. A spy for his Master, and one well-known to him, the man that sat across from Jaxon was almost as dangerous as the Mage that taught Jaxon his spellcraft, but in a different way. Supposedly, he was a very deadly assassin who never failed - ever. Gold changed hands beneath the table, no more than a slight clink that wasn't heard over the noise of the storm. For anyone in this area, the storm was a great blessing. It meant extra noise to shield those that would do shady deals - such as Jaxon, for example - thus meaning that they could talk in normal voices without having to whisper and gesture and what-not. Jaxon, however, was not a stupid man - not like many of those here, anyway. True, few of them were truly stupid, but most of them were taking full advantage of the storm outside. Jaxon, however, had decided to continue in his usual soft whispers. The man before him could hear him all too well. He had reason to believe he was a Drow, beyond that simple fact. He was a bit nervous whenever he met the man, but there would come a day when even an army of Drow wouldn't make him so much as blink. His Master had promised him that, and he was beginning to believe it.

Jaxon Creed had been studying spellcraft for a couple of years now. He'd started out mostly just proving to his Master that he could do good work without complaining, getting it done quickly and efficiently in the process. Then, when his Master had decided he was worthy, he'd begun to teach him. Jaxon was becoming quite powerful for a Mage's Apprentice, and his Master now told him every now and again how quickly he would rise to the rank of Mage if he kept up as he was. He was learning quickly, mastering spells not long after he learned them, and his spells were becoming more potent the more he worked with them. No, it would not be long at all before he was free of his Master as a Mage himself.

But for now, quests and jobs and such were the payment for spells. This was no different. The man before him pocketed the gold without counting it. Jaxon's Master had counted it himself, and the man obviously trusted him. Jaxon himself had never cheated him, or he'd be dead. He had no doubt about that whatsoever.

"It will be done, then?"

"Of course. As usual."

The man spoke little, but he spoke when necessary.

"Good. We will await your letter. The usual script?"

Illusory Script. That was what he meant, of course. The man nodded. Then he got up and left. He'd not drunk a single drop of ale, hadn't even ordered any, and now he was leaving as abruptly as he'd come. He wondered briefly what typical Drow life was like. But only briefly. He didn't dare dwell too long on that. Drow could read minds, after all - or so he'd heard.

He took another drink of ale and turned back to the storm outside. The Drow was no doubt long-gone by now. He had a habit of appearing and disappearing so suddenly that most would have screamed and run the other way - if they got the chance, which (from what he'd heard) they usually didn't. But now he was gone, his business was concluded, and he was simply enjoying a drink in a pub and the sight of the storm from a seat in the same.

He had no business in that area, but it was not of choice that he was there. The loud sounds filled his ears, shrouding the silent whispers in mystery. The heavy downpour that came as a flood blurred his vision, casting an eerie gray wherever he set his eyes upon. He was sure this was one of the non so favored districts in Lomedor, one where his kind was not welcomed in open arms. He could feel the killing intent focused at him, the cold stares and the unwelcome gazes that followed in his wake. He could not make out the features of those whose eyes were fixed at him, but he knew they were there. Surprise took him for a moment, wondering how they could observe him through the storm and he unable to return the favor. Clasping his wet cloak close, he continued on.

A faint mirage of a building emerged from the distance, followed by lights and sounds of a crowd. It appears to be a tavern of sorts, but he was not too sure. This district was unknown to him, his 'territory' being close to the square or to the barracks where work was easily found. Taverns for him were more of a nest of rumors and tales, half of which was lies the other only truth stretched to legendary proportions. He did not favor taverns much, only for rest and the casual flagon of ale. Seeing the comforting sight of the place, he rushed inside, splashes of water as his feet jogged through the heavy storm.

As he landed on foot inside the establishment he could feel a gloomy aura to it. The patrons did not bother to stare at the newcomer, whose garments were washed clean by the storm outside. The barkeep was the same, his conversation with the other patrons unwavering as the newcomer came in. There was one figure though, whose attention caught his eye. This man was sitting on a table, but his eyes were locked at the newcomer, or so he assumed as he was at the entrance. The features of the man was blurry, but the eyes caught the newcomer's attention. Slowly he made his way to the man, arms to himself as to not bump into anyone else. Once he was close enough for a low voice, he adressed the sitting figure. "Was there something you wanted from me? I noticed you staring in my direction when I came in..."

The man was not welcome here. That much was certain. He was also not familiar with this area. That was even more certain. For one thing, he'd been wandering through the streets like someone lost in a strange city. Now he was stepping forward to address Jaxon. This man had guts, Jaxon had to admit. You didn't just approach someone you didn't know here. Not unless you were doing business with them, and that was rare. Most of the business conducted here was between people who at least knew of the people they were dealing with, if they did not know the details of their business associates' identities and lives. So this man was both lost and an idiot. Or so it seemed.

Jaxon didn't respond at first. It was always best to ensure that people got the impression you didn't really care, while in fact you were plotting how best to attack or defend yourself if they were to attack, either verbally or physically. He took a long drink of his ale, and then burped lightly - a soft sound completely unnoticed in the tavern. Not that much was ever really noticed here, of course. That was just the nature of the place, though. But Jaxon was a little smarter than the average cut-throat. He noticed everything.

"I watch every lost newcomer who passes into this tavern whilst I am present. I also watch everyone and everything around me regardless. I don't miss much."

Another drink. Another swallow. He set the flagon down.

"So what do you want, newcomer? Or are you just here for talk?"

He thought again about the fact that the man had guts. Most people wouldn't have cared that they were being watched, though - especially not in a place like this - so this man's response to Jaxon's observations of him was rather curious.

Sanzen stood idly, waiting for the man to respond. His face showed a look he could not understand, something which came to him as a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Though this was not really his area, he could easily tell that strangers are not welcome here. It did not take him long to figure out how this side of the city was run, and what kind of people called this their refuge. Still the weather outside prevented him from getting out of the tavern immediately, and his pet was too huge for comfort and would provoke the guards of the city, of which he wanted to avoid. His thoughts kept racing on and on about the scenery of the tavern, until the man he was speaking to decided to reply.

"I watch every lost newcomer who passes into this tavern whilst I am present. I also watch everyone and everything around me regardless. I don't miss much." He continued to down his drink, the liquid vanishing in his mouth. "So what do you want, newcomer? Or are you just here for talk?"

He was surprised by the question, mostly from the tone it produced. It was an unwelcome remark, and it was what he didn't need at the moment. The aura of the tavern already seemed dark enough, and add to it one individual who would care less about others. Sanzen knew that this was what this side of the city was about, but being one such as himself he felt he deserved more respect than this. But he dismissed the violent thoughts immediately, seeing as they would not be of any benefit to him or to the man he was speaking to. He had not sized up the figure properly enough, and Sanzen was one who preferred to see what was coming before meeting it. Using the words the man told him earlier, he decided to go along with his suggestion of talking.

"Talk? I could use some of that talk, especially in this place. The storm led me to this place, and this 'warm' encounter with you might not be such a coincidence. Mind if we proceed with introductions, so we might see how we both could benefit from this conversation?" His hand raised slightly to offer a handshake, but held it back, remembering what kind of place this was. Common courtesy would mark a man in these parts, and in his case this was not what he wants. Not for now at least.

Jaxon didn't so much as glance at the man's hand. He didn't have to. His peripheral vision told him everything he needed to know, and more. This man most definitely wasn't from around here. Even a thief wouldn't be so blatantly stupid as this man. Jaxon even came close to sneering. If anyone was going to benefit from this conversation, it would be him, not this stupid fool who so obviously knew nothing of either Jaxon or the place in which the talking pair now resided.

The man was a do-gooder. He could practically smell it on him. He would not live long here. With so many cut-throats and such, he'd better have one big and very dangerous arsenal. Otherwise, this would be his last night here - or anywhere else, for that matter. Perhaps Jaxon could offer him some protection - for a price, of course. Everything always came with a price, especially in this place. There was no free meal in Arda.

"Sit. Give me your name, and I'll give you mine. What would you know of this quarter of the city, hmm?"

He wasn't about to just give up his name to some stranger, especially someone of obviously good alignment. This fool...no, he most certainly would not live long. At least Jaxon's business had been concluded, though, so he didn't have that to worry about anymore. Now he just had to wait out the storm with a room for the night and a hot bath and meal in the morning.

He wondered briefly what on Arda could have possibly prompted this man to come here, of all places, to one of the most despicable places in the city in point of fact? It certainly wasn't to start a war. It couldn't be. Nobody was that stupid...were they? And even if this man was that stupid, why? But Jaxon didn't think the man had come to start a war. No, he just seemed lost. Oh, well. He'd pry it out of the man one way or another.

A hooded man watched as the two men spoke to one another. He noticed the slightly hostile tone of the two, wondering what their problem with one another was. He didn’t really care though; he was only here for a drink. He found others business interesting though, and sometimes profitable, so he’d rather listen than ignore. A long pipe hung from his lips, smoke puffing from his mouth periodically.

Even a good woodsman needs his relaxation time.

He sat back slightly in his chair, half-listening as the two continued their exchange. His table was only a few feet from them, so it wasn’t hard for him to look inconspicuous. He tipped his drink as he downed a few more swallows of ale and then placed the pipe back into his mouth. The night was good. He had earned it; he had made a killing the past few weeks on pelts. He was glad to relax even if just for the night, not to mention it was mildly amusing to him to see the two strangers idle hostilities toward one another.

If only people had more faith in one another’s intentions…maybe the world would be a better place.

Suddenly he felt a cold hand on his shoulder. A chill like nothing he had ever felt before rushed down his spine and he could not move. He couldn’t even think. He had never been so scared in his life. The hand tightened on his shoulder and raised him from his chair, then its owner thrust a long sword straight through the man’s back. The pipe fell from his mouth and smoke rose from his open mouth and he was lifted further in the air. A dark cloaked figure stood behind him, holding him in the air as he twisted the blade in his back. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head and then closed and he took his last breath and died.

The cloaked figure then lowered the dead body to the ground and tore the hood from his head. When the cloaked figure saw the man’s face, he tossed him down and paid him no more attention. A dark, shrill sound came from the being, nearly a shrieking sound. Most of the people around in the bar had backed far into the corners or ran outside. Most of them were scared to death. The figure turned to the two men closest to him.

“Thorindil!!!!” the cloaked figure exclaimed in a shrieking, high-pitched sound that seemed to resemble a voice, but nothing human or elven or from the mines of the dwarves.

"Sit. Give me your name, and I'll give you mine. What would you know of this quarter of the city, hmm?"

Surprised at the remark, Sanzen placed the hand meant for the handshake down on the table, flat. He then proceeded to follow through with the man's offer, and took the seat opposite him. The casual courtesies obviously did not apply here, and mild tones seem to have no effect either. This much he has established from being around such a man in such a short time. He should have chosen his words better, knowing the kind of place he was in. The dark-colored clothing of the patrons, the poorly-lit tavern, even the silent voices all showed what kind of establishment it was, and his courteous manners and 'honest' composure would surely attract attention of the unwanted kind. He took a deep breath, before looking up at the man again.

Placing one hand close to his side where his weapon lay, he took precautions for any surprise. Though his training granted him the sight required to anticipate movement, it was not as finely honed as he might expect. Though fear was settling in slowly, he did not pay any attention to it, a small assurance in the fact that he could protect himself from the bar patrons and escape somehow. But this was not the time to pick fights and settle matters through the edge of a blade. This was a chance for a business opportunity, and he took it.

Moving the hand placed on the table, he turned it into an open palm and began to speak, in the tone which he thought would appeal to the figure before him. "No names, eh? It's alright with me. I'm one who knows this is not my place, as evident in how you speak to me. But chance led me here to you so I might as well make full use of it. Just to make things clear, I have not made any enemies here... the ones who wish me dead hide in the shadows in the lands, away from cities and villages."

He tried to make a slight reference to his job description, then proceeded. "Judging by the way you act I can guess you might be someone who hears a lot in these parts. What I seek is information... and what I can give in return, depends on what you are interested in. Power, Knowledge, Wea-" His persuasive speech was cut off by the loud shriek from the nearby table, where a cloaked figure stood before a man. Rising quickly on his feet he kept his one hand at the hilt of a blade, another on his side. He did not bother to address the newcomer, but prepared for whatever he might bring out.

Jaxon, of course, had seen things like this before in such places. In fact, they were quite common. He rolled his eyes and prepared an illusion. In truth, he was merely sitting there doing nothing, but the illusion of a very large snake coming into view suddenly was not something someone could simply ignore. It slipped around Jaxon as though to protect him, and it seemed ready for almost anything. Jaxon, naturally, was ready to move as soon as opportunity provided should circumstance permit. This was merely a preparation for something that might come, not something that he knew would come.

Jaxon watched the scene with only feigned interest. It was more of an annoyance to him in the midst of an otherwise semipleasant evening - even despite the rain, or perhaps only semipleasant because of it - than anything else. He only prepared for the worst, though - he didn't invite it. Not at all. He was more than ready for a fight, though he fought dirty and in a way most couldn't. But right now, he simply wanted to enjoy his drink.

"Welcome to the Drital Que'llar," he said to the young man in an exceedingly dry tone of voice. Yes, this was an all-too-common event that he wasn't really worried about. So what else was new? That was his take on things, anyway. This man, however, clearly didn't seem to realize at all just exactly what kind of place he was in. Lost? Please. The man wasn't lost. He was so completely lost he obviously didn't know his arse from a hole in the ground. This man was way beyond lost, and he didn't even realize it. Stupid fool.

Jaxon continued downing his drink slowly, savoring it and waiting for the man to return to his seat.

Threat of physical pain or assault did nothing to the mind of the cloaked figure. The snake did little to scare him. It shrieked wildly and cast fear upon the two men standing in front of it. It took two small steps forward and seemed to radiate darkness, the candles illuminating the room doing little to counterbalance the nighttime.

The cloaked figure let out an inhuman breath as cold breath erupted from inside the dark hood. It was not particularly cold inside the tavern, but the beast carried a chill with it far more sinister than any winter could conjure.

“Where….is….Thorindil!!” it shrieked.

But it wasn't so easy as all that. Oh, no. Not by a longshot. Jaxon might not have been a Mage just yet, but he was certainly powerful enough to ward off a simple spell like Fear. It was almost ludicrous, actually. Humorous, even, that he should be afflicted by the Fear spell. As he felt the effects creeping up on him, he stood in panic and made the snake grow to gargantuan proportions - only to cast Dispel Magic as he did so. The fear was gone, so was the snake, and Jaxon was irritated. He downed the last of his ale - not that much left to down, really - and cast two spells in rapid succession. A Magical Net came out of nowhere, hurtling toward this newcomer quickly, while a Weaken spell lashed out at his opponent behind the Magical Net that was now hurtling toward him. After both spells had been cast, Jaxon stood ready to begin launching Magic Missiles at his opponent the moment things got ugly.

"I can't even have one bloody night of peace," Jaxon muttered under his breath, wondering if he even remembered what peace was. But it didn't matter. This would be fun, actually. And now that he thought about it, he supposed he could use a little action before retiring to his bedchamber for the evening. "You know," he said aloud, "It's one thing to attack me when I'm expecting it. But you really shouldn't try to gain the upper hand against me. It's uncouth, and it's not something that I let people live long for. I'd seriously suggest you back down, unless you want to feel the full brunt of my magic."

He stood at the ready, though he looked as though he were merely a casual bystander wondering what was going to happen next. He was good at doing that. Really good, actually.

Sanzen stood idly as his 'contact' rolled his eyes, and showed movement that was not so common. In a moment a large snake appeared close to the man, whose actions remained constant while the snake grew more and became more intimidating. The move almost caught Sanzen off guard, had it been for the man not moving at all or seemingly unaffected by the appearance of the large beast. His keen senses in judging the actions of people helped him realize the act the man was trying to put up, and knew that an illusion was taking effect. He kept a tight grip on the hilt of his weapon, the handle of which extended to the ground. He made efforts to conceal the glaive from the crowd, but now is probably not the time to mind such matters.

Suddenly it hit him, that the man he was talking with was skilled in the magical arts. A small sign of disappointment appeared in his face upon realization of the fact. He had assumed the man was a scoundrel or a thief, but it turns out that Sanzen made the wrong assumption about the man. It was a rash choice to conclude that people found in such places were mostly thieves and those of similar interests, but even magic users and other folk could be seen here. He would have to pay more attention to the person first next time before making any assumptions.

The newcomer seems to have had little effect from the illusion, and then cast a fear spell on both of them. Though logic seemed to dictate otherwise, Sanzen did nothing to avoid the spell. It appears the two people before him have much to settle, and sadly some part of him wanted to see how things go from here. Disputes between individuals are respected by him, and being an extra is not a good choice. He saw how the mage dispelled the effects of all spells currently casted, and prepared to disable the newcomer. Curious to see how things will go, he only took a few steps back, to see how the newcomer would react.

The creature shrieked as the net hurtled toward him. It did not expect the two beings to do anything but cower in the corner and succumb to its will. However, it would not yield so easily. It flailed it sword about wildly, cutting the incoming net apart. Then came the weaken spell. The cloaked figure put its sword ahead of itself, as if to attempt to block it by physical means. As the spell hit the creature’s sword, it exploded onto it. The cloaked figure was hit with the spell, and it was weakened slightly, but the spell could not take full effect because the creature was made of pure shadow, and it was difficult to weaken its soul, for it did not have one any longer.

It shrieked with great pain and disdain for the mage, pure shadow and torment emanated from its very being, attempting to weaken the souls of all who looked upon it. It dashed quickly at the mage, lunging forward with its blade, attempting to run Creed through, for the creature was of the darkness, and felt no sympathy for man.

But neither was Jaxon a fool. He ducked out of the way almost as soon as the thing had looked at him, and he was rolling to his feet as the creature reached where he'd just been. He began hurling a series of magic missiles at the creature, and then cast a spell that suddenly caused a very bright aura of light to explode throughout the room, blinding most of the patrons. If it didn't blind the shadow-creature, he'd have been very surprised. He continued hurling magic missiles as he rose to his feet, and then he created several illusions very quickly. There were over a dozen illusionary men heading for the creature - very large men, and very dangerous-looking men. There was also apparently a massive Minotaur that had just stepped into the room, causing a panic that led to about seventy percent of the room fleeing the place as the minotaur headed straight for the creature. Then there was the Ancient Cerberus that suddenly rushed the creature from nowhere. And Jaxon? Who knew where he was? Right now, he seemed to be completely invisible - just another part of the wall on the other side of the room. He watched as the illusions closed in on the creature with great haste.

But illusions were not merely visual. They were audible, as well, and Jaxon's were no different. He threw his voice about the room to make certain that the creature thought those coming after him were real. Grunts and snorts from the Minotaur, growls and snarls coming from the Cerberus, and grumbled curses from the men. He smirked at the entire thing. It was humorous. He was no mere magician, after all, but a weaver of dangerous spells - and illusions could be almost as dangerous as some of the most powerful magic.

The beast shrieked in agony. Illusions, magic missiles…it was afraid of none of them. But the light…the light more than blinded the beast. It reached into its very being and cut him apart inside, a terrible pain boiled inside it. With terrible fury, the creature ignited the air around it with its own shadowy essence in an attempt to block out some of the light that the mage emanated.

It was weakened. As it lived now, few things living or dead in the plane hurt the beast more than pure light. It leaped through a nearby window, shattering the glass. It disappeared into the shadows from whence it came, leaving the room in a disarray of darkness and light, with all the illusions running amuck, chasing shadows.

The battle went on, the cloaked newcomer emanating a chilling fury that kept the patrons backing away. The mage whom Sanzen was having a short conversation with threw a variety of spells, each having some effect on the creature until he cast a spell that generated light. The huge outburst of illumination caused the patrons to turn away from the brightness, or risk blinding themselves to the light. Sanzen did the same as the rest, though he placed a hand across his face to block the light. Somehow this was not a good choice for him, as he was open for attack. But the battle did not involve him anyway so there was some comfort in his wrong choice. When he felt that the instant effects of the light had began to fade a little, he turned his face once again just in time to hear a window crashing in the background.

It was dark at first, his eyes closed to prevent any damage to his sight. Little by little he opened his eyes, the dimly lit room now a mess of light and shadows. Most of the patrons were now hiding behind the bar counter or have escaped the establishment, putting up with the rain rather than risk their lives to watch the battle. Some of course were still ignorant of the mess, keeping to themselves as they sipped their ale. Sanzen watched as most of the patrons started to calm down, and return to their respective tables. The events that happened recently seem to have shook them a little, giving him the assumption that such fights and brawls were commonplace. It did not startle him that there would be such things in taverns, but what amazed him was how the patrons handled it.

Realizing that the newcomer was finally gone, Sanzen finally calmed a bit, but noticed that there were still some strange creatures running around the tavern, making a scene and a mess. The mage was nowhere to be seen though, a sign that another illusion was in effect. Perhaps the mage did overdo the fight a bit, but it showed he has great potential as a student of magic. But his illusions were still creating a mess of things, so trying to help settle things down, Sanzen in a moderate town decided to speak to the crowd, aiming for the magician. "I think he just left, so you can put your friends away now. How about we go back to pressing matters, eh?"

Jaxon smirked, watching the creatures scare the daylights out of people. Finally, though, he decided that it was time to put his 'friends' away. The illusions vanished at the touch of a simple Dispel Magic spell.

"Oh, but they're so much fun!" he said sarcastically as he walked back to his table, passing by the man and sitting back down. He didn't bother ordering another ale, as he was in no mood to drink now. He simply watched the patrons around him getting to their feet slowly, some still huddling in terror and trying to escape (unsuccessfully) from the tavern without being seen. He rolled his eyes. People were so easy to manipulate, it was positively ridiculous. If they had been but a little smarter, perhaps his illusions would not have worked against them so well. But then, he wouldn't have had the advantage he'd had. Without the others trying to barge in, there was nothing that could be done to stop Jaxon.

He looked at the man before him now, though. The man showed no fear, only annoyance, and his eyes were slowly readjusting to the dim lighting of the small tavern. This man was not one to scare easily, he could tell. He was not a man without fear, precisely - there was no such thing; everyone feared something, no matter how deep the dark secret was - but he was certainly less afraid by far than most of the idiots he came across on a day-to-day basis.

"So, are you going to sit and conduct business with me, or not?"

Jaxon had pretty much forgotten the incident already. Some fool trying to kill him meant nothing at all to the Mage's Apprentice. People tried to kill him all the time, after all. They always failed, of course. His Master had told him that he was the most powerful and the most talented Apprentice he'd ever taught magic to, and Jaxon just loved to show off besides.

Realizing that the mess the recent fight put out had settled down a bit, Sanzen finally let himself loose for a moment. He took his hand off the handle of his glaive, and let the other hand rest on the back of the chair he sat on earlier. The man who emerged victorious in the battle smirked at the request put out by him, but eventually gave in. After a short while he cast a spell which released the illusions and returned things to normal. Though it was a relief that things can go back to the casual conversation that they were having, the uneasy feeling finally settled on him, realizing how far he had gone to meet his goals. Having to hire someone from this side of the city, and just anyone at that... shows how low his resources and his influence had become.

"So, are you going to sit and conduct business with me, or not?" The man asked, as if nothing has happened. These things should not surprise him anymore, the cold and harsh culture already introduced to him during their first encounter. Using the hand rested on the chair, he pulled it back and sat down. Turning his head from side to side, he slouched a little and let his hand rest loosely on the table. His right hand maintained a close proximity on the handle of his weapon, in case another surprise guest might come their way and choose him as an opponent this time. Though he was not afraid of such encounters, he tended to avoid them, thinking of those encounters as a 'waste' of energy and time.

So, what business did he have now, knowing that this man is a mage? Sanzen had no need for a mage at the moment, regardless of his potential or latent abilities. Unless he is skilled in divination or something like that. He began to ponder for a moment, then finally spoke. "Look, I had the wrong idea of you. I thought you were more of an informant, a go to guy around these parts judging from the way you settled in this tavern. But after seeing the show earlier I doubt I'll need to conduct business with you. Unless you can get me information, of which then we can start business. So, what will it be? I'm a patient person, but I'm not that hesitant to back out as well."

Inside his half-mad skull, Jaxon Creed was suddenly bursting out with wild, uncontrollable laughter. This man actually thought him merely an informant. Well, why not? He could play the man's little game, and play it well. He had played such games many times before, after all, and so had skill - great skill, in fact - in playing such games. Yes, he would play this game. He enjoyed this game. Perhaps he enjoyed this little game a little too much - but he would play the game, if only for the fun of it.

Outwardly, he smiled. It was his usual cold, cruel smile, reminicent of mockery. It was clear he was laughing at the man. Perhaps because Jaxon considered him an idiot, or perhaps at the obvious naivety of the man. Either way, he was most definitely laughing at him.

"What sort of information did you have in mind? Some information can get you killed, after all, and some can put you in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not about to endager myself just to keep the world well-informed. So. What do you want to know, outsider?"

He adjusted his weight a bit in the seat, opting for a more relaxed and more comfortable position in the chair. Of course, he was still ready for just about anything that came his way. Yes, he was powerful for a Mage's Apprentice, but he hadn't gotten here with a few spells. He'd gotten to where he was in this filthy, disgusting city because he was smart. So, he waited to hear what the man wanted before he named his price.

His price, of course, was never light. That girl on the run from the bounty hunters, for example. He'd asked the location of a certain gem. A powerful, valuable gem. Then again, he could use the man for a few different little 'tasks'. He could easily complete them himself, of course. But he preferred to use others to do his dirty work. It was the easy way. He liked the easy way.

A faint smile shown on the man's face, something which caught Sanzen off guard. Judging from the past conversations and previous statements a smile from this man would mean some error he made again, or possibly some opportunity that arose, which Sanzen was not aware of. Either way the smile does not mean the casual smile he often encounters, but to think of such doubts from a person he barely met seems unfair. He may be what Sanzen needed at the moment, but getting to that position where they both can understand one another seems like a long road.

It was fortunate that he would meet this man at this point in time, not earlier. Back then he would have handled things more roughly, and take this man for what he really is and make him learn his place. But now with his renewed sight on the mortal world he gave each one a chance, not placing a title before any observations are made. This might have been a good change for Sanzen, but this encounter might lead him to be wrong about placing his faith in the character of people once again.

"What sort of information did you have in mind? Some information can get you killed, after all, and some can put you in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not about to endager myself just to keep the world well-informed. So. What do you want to know, outsider?" The man was direct, and concise. This much he needed, but the credibility of the information might not be as good. Sanzen was never good with making deals with people, it was always left to his subordinates before. Now that they are gone, he would try to work his way through this man and get what he wants.

"The information I seek is one worth nothing to you who live here, as it does not concern you. You are aware of the dangers of the wilderness and of the shadows, do you not? How you see such matters is irrelevant to me, but if you come across anything of that sort... we just might have some business to conclude after all. How about an equivalent exchange? You give me something I want, and I return the favor, in the some manner which suits the 'amount' you have given me. Interested?" Sanzen knew this was probably not the best pitch, but hopefully it would appeal to the man, and maybe something 'productive' may come from this.

He chuckled. He actually chuckled. That wasn't like him at all - or was it? This man would never know. And if he did, he wouldn't live long enough to tell anyone. The man was trying to get the upper hand without knowing what he was doing, it seemed. That was humorous to Jaxon, if only slightly. Finally, though, he spoke.

"Very well. There is a man down the street, in a small house marked with a blue door. It's unusual in this area, so it shouldn't be hard to miss. I need that man dead, and I need the tall, slender black candle that resides upon his mantle. Kill him and bring me that candle, outsider, and I will tell you what you want to know."

Indeed, this would be almost too easy. He had no doubt that the man was as skilled with weapons as he appeared, but was he completely brainless? That was the real question. He had obviously come to this place more out of being lost than anything else, perhaps even out of necessity. Then he'd been surprised at Jaxon's manner and the manner of the other patrons of this tavern. Next, he'd been surprised at how commonplace the battle Jaxon had just participated in had been considered. The chairs and tables were already replaced and people had pretty much forgotten the fight already. This man. What was he, a noble? Perphaps. Probably. Very likely, even. But whatever he was, he seemed an idiot. But if he could complete this little task for him and bring him the candle, Jaxon would give him what he needed. Not what he wanted, of course. Jaxon wasn't that stupid. But what he needed. Which might just be a good arse-kicking. He mentally chuckled at that. This man might or might not be an easy kill, but he didn't intend to kill him anyway. He was just one man, after all. His Avians would deal with the man, in time.

The man chuckled after Sanzen made his peace, adding more uncertainties to his place there. It took some control not to tear the man apart here and now, being the hopeful convert that he was. The slight humor shown in the man's face not only made him watch his words more, but also added a bit of hostility to the situation. It was something Sanzen was not accustomed to, and it added to his point that humans were useless and that they were not needed by him. Still he held onto something vague, something which made him control his rash actions and listen to the man before him.

"Very well. There is a man down the street, in a small house marked with a blue door. It's unusual in this area, so it shouldn't be hard to miss. I need that man dead, and I need the tall, slender black candle that resides upon his mantle. Kill him and bring me that candle, outsider, and I will tell you what you want to know."

An assassination? Though it was something not new to him, the exchange was somewhat unfair. Though the fruits of the information he hoped to find is the deaths of dozens, it was not fit to weigh it equally with the killing of one man, one whom he particularly had no quarrel with. Taking actions based upon his morals, he decided to give a reply to the man, in a tone as cold as ice. It has been a long time since he talked down before, but it was something he was good at.

"Hmmmm... no. I'd care less what you want with that candle, and you can take it yourself if it was that easy that you'd send a stranger after it. I'm beginning to even doubt you even have some slight idea of what I want, and that you can even offer something that is of the smallest value to me. This has been quite a waste of time it seems, talking to someone who does not know what he is missing. Besides, what value does this candle have for you anyway?" His tone was cold, but it shown a slight interest at the end, as if Sanzen was expecting something else to come up.

The man's words irritated him more and more. It wasn't that he was refusing the offer; it was that he was insulting him besides. But fortunately for this stupid fool, Jaxon Creed was a patient man not prone to ridiculous outbursts of anger. Fine, then. He would do it himself. But as for this welp...

Jaxon's voice was just as cold, if not colder. The difference was, Jaxon liked killing. He wasn't about to give up his favorite pasttime lightly, and so this was a welcome thing for him. Still, it was a bit disappointing that he'd refused. No matter.

"Do I know so little? What of you, man? You come here not knowing where you are or what is going on, and you think you know more than I of the place that surrounds us? Fine. Take to the streets then, and be done with you. I've no time or use for idiots with high standards and strong moral codes. You want information, you do the dance. Simple as that."

Jaxon stood. He was through with this man. He was becoming a bore, and a bother besides. He stretched a bit, fully intending to retire for the evening. In the morning, when the rain was lessened and the sun shone, he would set out again in his search. He had a feeling that it would not be much longer before he had the gem in his hands. The Devil's Heart would be his, and pitiful fools like this one would not stand in his way.

"Just remember that you know nothing of this place, and those who do would gladly conduct business - for a price. If you don't get down off of your high horse soon, you may just find yourself and the horse in some Troll's cooking pot. Just something to remember," he finished with a raise of his eyebrows. Then he turned and headed across the floor. He spoke briefly and quietly with the bartender, and then he headed up the stairs to his quarters.

((OUT :hi: ))