[center][color=00BFFF][h3][u][b]Magnus Arhakaine[/b][/u][/h3][/color]
[sub][color=00BFFF]Location:[/color] The Crossed Swords Tavern
[color=00BFFF]Interacting With:[/color] The graveyard caretaker[/sub][/center][hr][hr]

	A bowl of stew and a mug of ale was dropped in front of Magnus. He ate methodically, robotically almost, simply filling his body with fuel rather than taken any enjoyment in the meal, his eyes never leaving the caretaker’s form. Not that the old drouth even realised he was being scrutinized so closely, being far more intent on drowning himself with ale, too wrapped up in his business to even consider paying attention to a stranger by the fire.

	[color=00BFFF][i]This one stinks of guilt[/i][/color], he swordsman mused to himself, taking in the man’s hunched shoulders, the way he adamantly avoided the eyes of the tavern wench who refilled his emptied flagon, how he shivered uncontrollably even though the Crossed Swords hearth boasted a blazing fire, that suffused the room with a comfortable heat. [color=00BFFF][i]Even money bet that the cause of his consternation is linked to the deplorable state of his charge.[/i][/color]

	The adventurer emptied the bowl of stew before getting from his chair and, with his mead in hand, slowly crossed the tavern towards the caretaker, movements calm and measured, so as not to startle the older man. There was no real need though, as the man was so deep in his cups that he didn’t even notice Magnus’ presence until the warrior eased himself onto the stool next to him. The swordsman let a tense silence deepen for a few, long heartbeats before saying anything.

	[color=00BFFF]“Someone’s been digging all your town’s corpses up old man”[/color], he stated without preamble. [color=00BFFF]“I’m fixing on finding out why. Reckon you can help me answer that question. And don’t bother lying to me, or saying you know nowt. Do that, and I’m like to get markedly less civilized.”[/color] He took a pull of his mead while waiting for the caretaker to answer.