Outside of Boltic: Chapter 1

Stepping out from behind a tree, a small man with a sneer stares at the creature before him. Thick leather armor pads his shoulders and midsection while a holy book hangs off his belt, a small paper prayer waxed onto the armor to the left of his chest, and the red "I" of the inquistion emblazoned in the center. Tattoos encircle his arms and a unlit candle rides on his right shoulder. Abuckler is attached to his arm and a bow, along with a hefty pack, is slung behind his back. For as small as he is, his well worn face, dressed with a red glass eyepatch, shows he is not to be trifled with. He spits at the ground in front of her and utters a single word.

"Witch."

It's not a question more of statement of fact as he looks around for whoever may have summoned him here. He would very much rather it not be this hag before him or they would have serious problems. He looked around to see if, hoping, anyone else was there.

He continues to look around, hoping beyond hope that this conversation is not the reason he's here. "The arcane arts are all the same. My order hunts those that wield them. While it is known that some amount of . . . necessary evil exists in the world, I personally have never had to work alongside a hex-jockey." Bek spits again making it more then clear he isn't around to chit chat. "Are you the one who's got the job for me or not?"

"I am going to have to agree with this . . . thing here. Your offer is too vague to sell my soul yet. Death is not the reward I am looking for either. Gemstones would suffice though. Emeralds, rubies, diamonds the size a child's fist will more than make up for a suicide mission." Bek glances around him, calling attention to the lack of bodies present. "Also, if we are the only two you have coming to knock on your opportunity's door, I can tell already that we will have our work cut out for us." Bek keeps trying to discern what is underneath the hood trying to size the fella up. He keeps talking as he looks the figure up and down. "So what is the job? Tell me and if it is worth it, I may just will sign my life away."

Bek holds the stone up to the full moon and lets the light catch it just so. It shimmers like stars in the sky. "How about that? This will do. And if those coffers are as full as you say they are, then you may have yourself a deal." Bek pockets the stone in one of his belt pouches. "I too do not like going in blind. What more, if anything can you tell us or give us to prepare for this journey?"

Bek places a bit of ceremony on the signing. He utters the words of an orison and light begins to shine from the candle wick on his shoulder in the shape of a steady flame, giving off a warm orange glow. He is careful to read every word and understand the limitations before looking up and making eye contact, if it can be called that, with the hooded figure. "I would prefer a wartrained riding dog if possible but a horse will do if that is all you have." Regardless of the answer, Bek takes the quill and signs his name. He then takes a single arrow and pricks his finger allowing a single drop of blood to follow his signature. "Now it is official in the custom of my order." He hands the contract back to the seeker.

Bek watches the figure until he's gone. Turns to the hag and says, "Like I said, necessary evils. I guess I'll see you at the wayhouse, witch." And with that he turns on his heel and slinks off, heading toward the wayhouse.