A half-hour or so before Kyoht arrived, Nestor returned to Rusty’s Bed and Breakfast to tell Buster and the inn keeper about a visitor he was expecting. He told the two to send a “golden-eyed man with a bow and an axe at the hip” to his room and to send off anyone in rugged or patched leather armor, “because they’re dangerous, scheming snakes.” Buster asked if any of them were as strong as Nestor was, to which he casually replied, “they’re the shady types. Kick em’ out quick or they’ll pull a knife on ya.’” With this said, the Vanisher returned to his room, turning his key in the lock hanging from the door. After he was in his room and set the lock once more, he lit the candle and took a look around his room. 

It was late at night, but many people in the city would remain awake for another few hours. The guards had to stay awake to make the lives of the thieves more difficult, the inn-keepers were still busy with the many ruffians and travelers vying for a place to stay for the night, and countless other people of various occupations walked around, continuing their busy lives. Thin beams of light from the moon shone through the skylights in some areas, while others merely offered a view of the stars, often admired by artists and scholars. Altogether, whether or not it was dark out, the city lived on throughout the day.

Nestor got a reminder of the livelihood of the city as a few pebbles crashed against the outer wall of his room, undoubtedly the result of immature children daring or testing one another to gauge their manliness. The snickering and laughter of the kids angered the Vanisher, but the even angrier voice of Buster soon drowned out the annoyance. Nestor washed his face and hands in a fresh basin of water near the door and packed all of his travelling gear. He organized his clothing and placed it back into his rucksack, then used a small amount of water and a cloth to clean some of the dirt off of the bag. The rough, thick material which held the outside of the pack together was very rough, so the dirt stubbornly remained in the weave of the material despite Nestor’s efforts. This annoyance sent blood to his face along with a frown as his frustration grew. “At least I get a meal,” he mumbled, searching for ideas to calm himself.

After another minute, Nestor threw the cloth back at the basin, causing it to land limply beside the wooden table the basin stood on. The Vanisher stood up and, after listening to the walls carefully to check for eavesdroppers, sat down next to his rucksack to wait for his visitor. [i]He won’t be long,[/i] the man thought, reforming a picture of the golden-eyed man in his head, distinguishing each individual feature, [i]I bet those eyes make searching easier.[/i] He continued to sit next to his rucksack for around ten minutes before hearing a knock on the door. Without a word, the Vanisher arose and walked up to the door. Whispering, the traveler asked the knocker, “what number are you looking for?”

----

[as Kyoht walks in]

Buster, a big and burly man in rather casual dress, walked up to the man in the doorway and bent down to look at his eyes from about three feet away. He frowned for a few seconds as he stared into the man’s eyes, trying to make out the color he was seeing, when the elderly man behind the counter grinned cheerily and, with a crackly voice, claimed, “he’s clearly the one the fellow was talkin’ about. Relax.” With this, Buster stood up and nodded, retorting, “’twas hard to tell in the torchlight. Coulda’ been a light oak.” Noticing that the Innkeeper ignored him, Buster dejectedly returned to his seat on a bench near the entrance.

Meanwhile, the Innkeeper motioned for the golden-eyed archer to come closer to him. When the archer was within reach, he motioned for Buster to check out the doorway and turned to the archer. “The feller’ with the black cloak and lighting reflexes said to send the golden-eyed archer to his room when he got here. He’s in the room upstairs, at the end of the hall.” He barely changed expression while talking, a serious, yet intrigued look which bespoke suspicion. It was likely the result of having two people he didn’t trust in his building. Either way, he watched the archer off, pointing to the stairs to guide him at his behest, then sat back in a similar stool to Buster’s, leaning against the wall. Buster returned inside soon after the innkeeper stopped talking, returning to his own stool. He cast a glance at the innkeeper with a look of unease, which the innkeeper shrugged off.