Scratching the Surface
Judoc's mind squirms as he slowly absorbs his beer, sitting on the high, barstool of the Dragon's Nest. Though he is alone at the bar, the barkeep pays him little mind, preferring to attend to the menial tasks of getting his establishment ready for the evening. To Judoc it is just as well. He is not fond of his situation. Though he thinks little of his chances to realistically accomplish his goal unless Thresher leaves Azer of his own accord. If the two meet, then if Judoc kills, he will be a murderer, if he does not, perhaps Graves will expel him for failing at his task. But what if Thresher does leave? Will that suffice to mollify Graves? There are only two things that Judoc is sure of, he has no wish to be expelled just yet and that he has no wish to become a murderer. Pouring the last dregs of his ale into his mouth, Judoc thanks the barkeep, places a silver penny on the bar, and departs.
December 6th
2008 A.D.
The Dragon's Nest
Azer Market
Sometimes it is funny the sense of Deja Vu that will strike a man though the circumstances may be completely different. For Judoc, he cannot help but remember only a few days ago, sitting at the exact same bar with the same feeling of listlessness. It had been four days since he had placed the note and formulated his plan. Since then he had spent a night listening for references to his foe, then another two actively searching for him. So far, Judoc had come up entirely short, though he was not sure whether that meant that Thresher had indeed left or that Judoc was searching in the wrong places. Most of the people he had been asking had given him entirely blank stares, some of the seedier sorts looked just short of hostile at points. Judoc had just started his mission again fresh for the night, deciding to try the Dragon's Nest though it had not been one of his normal stops. As Judoc sits again at the bar, he notices the stark difference that only a few hours of the day can make. His previous trip here had been just prior to dinner time and he had been the only person in the establishment right as it was opening. Now, though the sun has been set for only few hours, the place is much more lively with nearly every seat at the bar taken and most of the tables spoken for as well. There is a moderate hum of conversation that flows throughout the room making listening difficult to anything outside of a few feet.
For perhaps the twelfth time in three days Judoc nonchalantly asks the barkeep if he has heard of anyone named Thresher as he pays double for his copperhead ale. Nodding in appreciation for the tip the barkeep gruffly offers, "If you're bloke is anything what he sounds like, Finny is you best bet, keeps off in that back corner over there." The bartender jerks his chin towards the back of the bar.
Uncertain as whether or not he wants this lead to pay out, Judoc thanks the man and decides to at least follow through with the charade. He makes his way towards the back of the bar, finding an older scruffy fellow in the area that the barkeep had mentioned. "Finny? I hear you might have heard of a man called Thresher?"
Finny seems perhaps fifty in age, though he is worn rugged with course skin and thinning and unkempt hair. His clothes are mostly patchwork, though there are no holes to speak of and they seem barely warm enough for the cold of the winter night. As he hears the question, Finny smiles a grin that is half empty for lack of teeth. "Oh, I've heard of him neighbor," His voice is gruff and cracked though his response seems in a whimsical tone. "An I think I've heard of you too son, what's it worth to you to hear what I know?"
OOC: You have spent a total of $45 in tips over the past couple days. You have $42 still on your person right now, the rest is back still back at the college. You have 3 days left in the week to kill Thresher, or otherwise fool Graves.