At the crack of dusk he slinked into the bar groggy and drained from dragging his ass all over Connlaoth to get here. A rather taxing job for any mage, but at the end of the day if you hid your marks and kept your foci out of site nobody really payed you any mind. No more than they would any unruly looking folk anyway, but that was besides the point. He came here on his next job. A heist, and even in these law abiding lands there is still scum to be found and exploited.
Which brings our intrepid explorer to a building that stood out in this center of culture and sophistication; the "Gundead Inn". A clever play on words that is only punctuated even further by the sign dangling outside featuring a skull with the business end of a rifle jammed up it's lower jaw. "Subtle" he coughed to himself before pushing the heavy door and making his way inside. The inside of the tavern was warm enough, and was starting to fill up with the local populace seeking to relieve stress in their drink. His feet carried him over to the where bar he rapped his knuckles on the hardwood. The innkeeper was a tall man of a fairly large build. He had a bit of a belly, but nothing you'd call fat. His orange hair was starting to fade with age, and even in his thick mustache you could see flecks off. He asked what O'hann was having he quickly responded with a quaint "don't about that ser, but the hounds are barking." At first he got a strange look "we don't have any hou-" he paused as the thought finally clicked into his head "ooooh, of course. Right this way, sir."
He was led into a backroom featuring two over stuffed leather couches, and a table between them. On one side sat a portly and ugly man, dressed in fine clothes of green and white that did nothing to flatter him. "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?" The innkeeper asked politely, and rolled his eyes between the two. "O'hann slid behind the opposite side of the table to his host, and raised his hand "aye, I'll take a pint of whatever you're serving to the fine folk of these parts. Anything for you, man?" The fat man furrowed at O'hann for a moment, making him look even more like a pig "yes, I'll take a brandy." The innkeep bowed silently and departed, closing the door behind him and leaving the two alone.
"So, you're Brecker's boy are you?" O'hann almost giggled at that. He even sounds like how you think a pig would if it could talk. "Yes sir, you're familiar with the captain, Mr...?" He almost looked offended that this hoodlum had asked such a question "no names. Let's keep it that way. Just call me the Host, and no I try not to affiliate with the likes of mercenaries like your captain, but your old company came well recommended for its independent agents." The innkeep returned with the drinks earning him a searing look from the Host. He set the drinks down on the table, and hurried back out of the room.
O'hann took a deep pull from his mug. Watered down. Son of a bitch. "Alright, Host. What's the job? I have a hunch, but I enjoy surprises." He watched his the man take a sip from his own glass, and for a moment his face spoke that he mirrored O'hann's own thoughts of the quality, but he shook it off. "A heist, boy. The local college has recently recovered some rare tomes of the alchemical nature that a client is very interested in. The job is to infiltrate the grounds, find the tomes and return them to me. I've been made well aware of your condition and have sought to provide you with these." Host reached beneath the table and produced a leather pouch that he pushed across the table, and when O'hann opened it he noticed three scrolls inside. He raised an eye back to the pig man "scrolls of masked arcana. They'll permit you to cast a single spell without alerting any arcane detectors that magic has been cast by any means. Use them wisely, they don't come cheap." He clicked his teeth. Three spells for the whole night? Tough break.
His attention was pulled away from the scrolls by the Host grunting at him "payment will be dispensed at the drop-off point. Don't worry, it'll be a substantial sum. 2,000 gold pieces in fact." The mage blinked twice, who the hell could ever just want some musty old books that'll probably just have some shit love potion in them? Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth he shook off his daze to see that his Host had extended a hand out to him "do we have a deal, Mr. Ilbasti?" O'hann grimaced, and then pounded the rest of his beer, before taking the fat man's hand. "I thought we weren't using names?" The fat man chuckled, causing his jowls to shake "you aren't, no." Damn captain gave him my name? Thanks for nothin'. Whatever he signed the contract so if he tries to burn me I'll die knowing he rots too.
The Host's expression turned sour after they released each other's hands "now get the hell out of my room while I enjoy the rest of my brandy." O'hann snorted and excused himself. He reoriented himself at the bar, and ran a hand through his hair "rough meeting, sir?" The innkeep said as he refilled his mug "I'm not paying for that." The innkeep grinned "no, but he is." They both shared a soft laugh as O'hann sipped from a mug. He wouldn't be able to spell sling his way through this job, and he couldn't waste his few hidden spells to infiltrate the college to gather info either. He set his mug down, and dragged a hand over his face. I'm gonna need a team. He rapped on the bar once again "hey barkeep. Where do I find the talented scum around here?"
