Hunger had been ailing him for some time. Survival was not his best skill, that he had to admit as there was no way to deny it. He was tired, and the pain in his stomach was not anything he couldn't get used to, despite the frequent sleepless nights, the weariness in his blood and bones. He could feel the unexplained magic rushing through his body a little more as he came to depend on it to keep him alive.
It was in that state he dragged himself to the borders of a town, and sagged on the doorstep to the local INN. The rain came down in torrents, and he was soaked through more thoroughly than a puddle. Jonas' clothing was covered in mud and whatever grass it managed to capture from the hills he had struggled over. The smoke billowing out from the houses had been a beacon in the fading light. And that night he slept on the doorsteps, his pockets far to empty to afford a room.
In the morning he found promise for a better day.
He had caught rumours around the countryside; from passing traders to sellswords, about a brigand that had a bounty on his head. A sizeable bounty. Jonas needed that money, and he couldn't think of any other way to get it quickly. He had gained some knowledge on the road on how to defend himself, and there was a fire that seemed to constantly burn in his heart that kept him from quitting when all things seemed lost. It saved him more than anything else.
Redfort keep. It was a name on many tongues in the town, and it didn't take him long to find the information he needed. The local rat, not literally the animal, twisted his hands and fidgeted when Jonas brought up the subject; his pudgy fingers playing at the hems of his tunic and his face flush. He wasn't the only one asking about Johnny-two-toes it seemed. But it didn't stop him.
Jonas quickly found himself on the road, with only his feet to bring him along through the muck. The rains had let up, and the sun began to shine through the cracks in the clouds. His guard had been down, and his heart sized as an arrow shot by his ear. Jonas plunged into the nearby brush, and found that someone had the same idea.
"Lovely weather, isn't it." He said.