3-4 Not safe from Babajide anymore...

[Ymir]

One of the men in the depleted entourage of the reaver had noticed a reply to Babajide's notice in town. Informed of this, the reaver ventured towards the tavern in order to retrieve the required materials for his 'condition'. It might be a costly matter, but it was a well funded venture and the risk was worth the reward. Some quarries brought in riches beyond dreams. Some targets brought legendary status. Which was it that motivated Babajide? Was hard to tell.

Upon arriving at the tavern, the reaver was surprised to find another note addressed to him upon signing his name in the register. He had to, for all intents and purposes, appear to be as normal as possible. The note was an intriguing addition, and he knew that the more 'medicine' he had...the better. He would attempt to retrieve as many supplies as possible from as many who would help him. His men having some 'medicine' at hand would help him in emergencies.

The men dispersed inconspicuously enough. The half-giants and five men used a cloak from one of the taller guards to fashion a makeshift tent high in the tree branches. It kept them somewhat dry. If anything, these men of the desert were survivors, easily adapting to their environment. It was simply difficult to deal with the mud which was something they were truly unused to. Sand was one thing...this was different.

The other five men were dispersed within the main room of the tavern. Watchful eyes roamed over the patrons from their solitary stations. It was less distracting to have a companion at ones side. Babajide, however, would take his place at a barstool and sip at an ale before him. Occasionally he would round the main floor in order to nod and smile at the patrons of the tavern. His eyes seeking out some form of acknowledgement from someone. His red leather armour with the tribal dragon's mark upon pauldrons was distinctive, but he knew it required more. So once in awhile he sat at a table and greeted a group of farmers or tradesmen at a table and introduced himself with a loud boom accompanied by a bellowing laugh. Announcing his name in such an innocent and unsuspicious manner would help his contacts find him.

After such an exchange he would stand up and look around, perhaps giving a quick glance for a signal within, before occasionally getting up and exiting the tavern only to venture to the rear of the building in order to 'relieve' himself.

It was time and patience that would be his ally.

Someone would venture forth...his luck couldn't be all bad.

[Suede]

Upon Babajide's return to the tavern, as would be expected, the patrons had changed. Nothing of great notice, shifting about the room, those seeking to get drunk having taken up arms with others like minded to seek shared rounds. And of course, a new face was nestling in the corner farthest from both the front and kitchen doors.

He seemed nothing exceptional, and that was what was exceptional. He was just another farm hand perhaps, or a coolie for one of the local merchants. He nestled a mug of one of the cheaper ales under a light touch on the table before him.

If he cared about the foreigner making such the ruckus previously, he made no motion to suggest so. Although he did find the inside of his drink rather appealing.

[BrokenDreamer]

The instructions of the note had been simple --to meet this contact behind the tavern, from there the man would be found. He knew already what mark to seek.

The rain would continue to pour forth, watery vengence from the sky with the occassional flicker of lightning and answering boom of thunder. One crack of lightning would illuminate the area, nothing, cast in darkness again. With next flash and there was a figure there that had not been before --just like that. Then again, shadows were called sister and brother -night was mother.

There was nothing imposing of this individual's build, lithe and slim ..robed in the clothing of the Far East. It seemed a kimono of black, though it's hem was shortened to fall above the knee --lower legs kept wrapped within white cloth. Geta sandles worn, wooden and each balanced upon strips of wood that added a couple extra inches of height.

They seemed unarmed .. or she. Closer inspection would show faint curves with the way black cloth was wound about the waist, nothing but a pair of red fans tucked there. As for the face? It was dark, hard to see ..and the cloth that hid the lower portions made it difficult. Everything unadorned, plain and blackened .. save that emblem, the red scorpion that sat boldly upon her right breast.

Dark eyes watched without a word --waiting, word kept.

[Ymir]

Indeed exceptional was something that seemed commonplace in this tavern, and it was a man of Babajide's that would point out to him the individual in the corner. Unable to ignore such a distinct, yet subtle, presence within the tavern, Babajide would slowly make his way over towards the table.

"Hello...my name is Babajide. Been an interesting change in the weather lately. I just wished that the trade routes were more friendly. It's hard to get good medicine in this area. Might I join you...? I'm new in the area and want to learn as much as possible."

The braided beard of the reaver was rolled up towards his neck in order to give his facial hair a 'jagged' appearance. Eyes studied the inconspicuous stranger in the corner for a moment before he gave a small smile as though he could appear akin to some mild-mannered traveller who was merely innocent. If this were the first of his two contacts...he had no doubt the man would see right through such a simple facade.

[Suede]

There was a gruff mutter of what could have been a positive response to confirm his own opinions towards both the weather and the influence it had on current trade roads. After a moment, when it didn't seem the gentleman had any intention of a quick departure, one of his legs would push a chair seat out.

"Agreed.." He pierced his own ale with a disgruntled frown. "First the heat comes and burn up what we have, then the rain keeps all the trade we need out. It's making prices for getting herbs and medicinal treatments in.. sure enough. I know it's a bother and a half for me to get my pain killers."

He rubbed one shoulder with his free hand to enunciate the fact of how badly he needed them, then took a sip of his drink. "Have to settle on cheap liquor to numb it off, till I can find the money to get myself some more."

[Ymir]

The reaver slid into the seat the man had pushed out and smiled wryly at his commentary.

"The heat I'm well used to, in fact I'd prefer it to a good soaking. While I do enjoy the experience of rain...there is something quite uncomfortable about your feet constantly being wet."

"You're finding yourself short of funds? Well I'm a charitable person myself. I deal in transporting large and possibly dangerous items. So I tend to have money to spare in order to help those at times when they are less fortunate. Give back to the people and communities who've called on my services."

The stocky reaver sipped from his tankard of ale.

"While I don't wish to impose, perhaps I can help you out in your time of need?"

[Suede]

He sounded a wordless agreement before he spoke. "Wish the damn weather would settle itself into a normal pattern. I can't stand the heat, but neither do I like pruned feet." A boot stomped with a plentiful slosh to acknowledge his recent plunge through the outside world.

The offer for help has him snort through a sip of ale and wave the offer off. Clearly his pride has been hurt. "Help me in my time of need, bugger if I need any handouts, I ain't helpless. Besides, I still have some of my medicine left... might be enough to get me through this storm."

If the stupid thing ever stopped, he glared at the window to try and will the rain away.

[Ymir]

"Yes, it is certainly a pain." Babajidi eyed his own wet boots and his brow furrowed as toe wriggling gave that sloshing sensation precedence in his mind.

"I meant no offense." He gestured as though to finish his sentence, alluding to his offer of help. "It's good to know that even with this weather people are getting what they need."

Pursing his lips he tapped his chin thoughtfully, "It must be costly though. I imagine some of your medicine might cost double if you or any other fine citizen happened to need more." He shook his head slowly. "Weather surely favors some merchants."

[Suede]

"Yer right about that! Bloody merchant wants near triple next time I need more. That's..." His love of the brew has apparently disjointed his sense, as fingers leave it to begin counting out shillings. "Well... It's a lot. Half tempted to scalp what I have left for the profit and then ride to a new town to get more a reasonable price."

He garumphed, and apparently had forgotten the insult from moments in favor of giving the man a closer eye and a snort, but he said nothing.

[Ymir]

"It doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. If this merchant, whatever their name is, isn't willing to haggle or bend a little...I wouldn't blame you for renting a horse and going over the border to see what the prices are there. This weather makes it hard to make a profit in any sort of venture. Unless you're a merchant with a surplus of a needed supply."

Raising his tankard to sip at the liquid inside a little, the reaver peered at his co-patron of the table as he sat there. "But triple the price you say? That's a shame. I know a few poor unfortunate souls who could use that kind of medicine in this weather."

The reaver would then shake his head as though he were disappointed at the injustice of it all, his gaze moving towards the windows of the tavern.

[Suede]

"Yeah, well at this point I'd probably sell what I still have to them just to be rid of it." By the look in his eyes it seemed the man was also considering where he could find a cheap, yet able horse.

After a moment he sighed over something and looked at the fellow. "Who do you know who needs it?" His voice was resigned, he sounded uncertain if he really wanted to sell his necessities.

[Ymir]

A blink from the reaver as he regards the man across the table. "Well..." A hand raised and touched and toyed with the ringlets of the reavers beard as he sat there eyeing the man across the table from him. "I suppose I can trust you with this information..."

Leaning in towards his comrade, the dark-haired hunter spoke in lowered tones. "I'm sure you've heard of some live-stock going missing recently?" He glanced to the side. "Some of the farmers in a tiny community near the border of Ghreu Fenn think that it's werewolves, and I've been asked to discover the truth."

A slow breath inhaled is let loose in a sigh as the man in red armour shakes his head. "You and I both know that people around these parts, in this day and age, can be a superstitious lot...eager to find something, or someone...to blame in order to 'drive away the curse'. Most of the people in this tiny hamlet are blaming the young son of a prominent farmer. They're accusing him of being a werewolf. So...we had to find a way to observe him on the full moon. We've posted guards outside his room before but...it doesn't work. We step inside and he's gone til morning. Even binding him to the bed hasn't worked, but the binding is never damaged. We can't figure it out. So what we want to do...is paralyze him, and watch him in the moonlight. It's risky...we don't know if the effects will stop when, or more likely if, he changes. It would be an easy task in normal weather when the markets are easier to access...but in this...storm...well they have no choice. The bandit lords of Ghreu Fenn are trying to extort more than they could afford to help...and I doubt they'll help anyway. So I've got to get rid of this thing they've dubbed the...red-eyed menace." A shake of his head and the reaver sighed.

"Everyone's, it seems, is suffering these days. I hope everyone's luck will change." There was a slight frown as the reaver lowered his head and leaned back in his chair a bit, shaking his head at the misfortune of the region.