[i]Click, click, click[/i]. A spark or two had appeared from the lighter, but nothing much to light  Jason's cigar. Frustrated he tossed aside the lighter and placed a palm over his temples beneath his hat. He had heard he'd hear more detail for his assignment in this town, but taking business in public wasn't wise. Even though he is not an official mage, nor bears a mark of it, his necromancy had become infamous. Which had its perks, of course, but not without the costs. 



Someone confirmed an example of this, when people pointed out the stranger's mark and criticized him for his background of a mage. Least a normal mage aren't inherently evil. The curse of dark arts that Jason bears is void of any redemption, his own existence was a sin. While employers can tolerate it for his useful service, he didn't like to take things public. 

Taking another look at the stranger, talking to someone else. He overheard a name and advertisement. This had to be about the job. He didn't know who he would be working with, but he knew he wasn't the only one taking it. This was what he was waiting for.

Jason stood up from his lonesome table, and walked some paces towards the two. "Heard something about a business. I reckon this is where I'm supposed to be..." He paused, Jason was a much more frail and smaller figure compared to the more burly men here, though that wasn't to say he didn't have any muscle or fitness in him, but at a first glance he was rather unintimidating. However he placed a hand upon Mr. Flynt's shoulder. His touch was cold, dead cold, and stiff, like a corpse. The look in his eyes was void of emotion other then a serious tone. Looking past Flynt's to the other man he continued, "Dead hand Jason ring a bell?"