“Ya know,” the assassin started, smirking at the bounty hunter as she spoke, “I’ll end up bald if you keep throwing these knives at me, Flake.” [i]And whose fault do you think that’d be, huh miss imperceptive?[/i] Flake grinned at the thought, then watched as Raine threw the spontaneous knife back at the classless tourney-goers from whom it originated. He watched as the blade-end sank into the wall a foot away from where a man was leaning against a wall. It was a fairly good throw, from that range, but the angle wasn’t quite perfect.

Raine didn’t take long to add, “Well, you told me to come and find you once I was ready to take back what’s mine, so I came.” She then shrugged and felt along her neck as Flake’s smug grin grew wider. [i]Unconscious gestures of crotchety[/i] Flake thought, watching as the assassin preemptively inhaled. “Tough I could be asking you the same thing. Why are you here? I would’ve expected to see you in a more,” Raine leaned forward onto the table with her elbws, smirking again, “Civilized area.”

Flake dropped his smug grin and his expression became completely serious as he paused for a few seconds. He then mused, “you thought I’d be in a more [i]civilized[/i] area?” After another second of staring at her, he burst into a mad fit of laughter, violently falling onto the floor in the aisle as he desperately gasped for breath. The sound coming from his chest was louder than the murmur of the crowd, and the tone was oddly condescending. Thirty seconds passed, then he instantaneously shot up, completely serious, and sat back down, his posture ramrod-straight. “I hadn’t thought that you’d picture me as a civilized man,” he retorted. He squinted at Raine as he began speaking, then adopted a gentle smile.

“Now, let me enlighten you,” Flake said, unphased by the confusion and annoying laughter of the other members of the pub as they watched his spectacle end, “I wished to be in a place where neither the guards nor the assassins bother watching. There are only three such places in this city.” The crowd slowly returned to its normal cycle of drunks shouting and thieves getting beat up as he spoke, however his expression only got more and more serious.

“I am called Flake, as you know, however that is not my real name. You need a new name. Also, there is a herald with information about your uncle at west central square next to the info broker’s stand. Do with that as you wish, and at noon tomorrow, meet me at the sweeper’s hall with some new armor.” Once he finished speaking, he tossed his guest the purse she tried to steal earlier and got up from the booth. “any questions?” he asked, looking back at her with a cold expression.