[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 and Kyra[/sub][/center][hr][hr]

	[color=00BFFF]“Hrrrm.”[/color] That didn’t go quite as planned. He’d wanted to make the old man emotional, see if he couldn’t crack his façade a little. Now Magnus was forced to consider that maybe there wasn’t a false front in place there after all, maybe all that old man’s guilt really was just the product of him realising that if he’d investigated the cause of the empty graves earlier then perhaps he could have averted so much death and tragedy.

	The beginnings of a headache was making itself known, a steady pulsing forming at his temple. He wasn’t a man for solving mysteries, he realised. What he needed was a good, sturdy [b]something[/b] to swing his sword at. And orc, a bugbear, a dragon. A problem that was simple and tangible, far more suited to a man of his talents.

	[i][color=a187be]" To say the least, that ass Cremwise you set us up with betrayed us and the entire town,"[/color][/i]

	An angry feminine voice roused him from his musings, and he looked up to see that an ashen haired huntress had joined the man-mountain and his delicate burden. Betrayal? Treachery? Could that be linked to the undead problem besetting the townsfolk? It would be a hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t. Mayhap it was time he introduced himself to these adventurers, and find out just what it was they were going on about. Downing the dregs of his pint, and tapping the last embers of his pipe onto the floor before grinding them under his boot, he left a small stack of coppers next to the Caretaker’s own before moving towards the huntress.

	Before he could reach her though, the old drunk nearly barged straight into the ugly giant, though before he actually hit them the ashen-haired woman elbowed him violently away, straight into a sturdy wooden table. [color=00BFFF]“No wonder these folk aren’t well regarded ‘round these parts. Hardly the most endearing lot.”[/color]

	Magnus picked the caretaker up off the floor from where he had crumpled after hitting the table, dusting the fellow off, though he didn’t seem appreciative of Magnus’s efforts, and shook him off once he was back on his feet. There’s gratitude for you. The swordsman turned his attention to the huntress, raising himself up to his full height, while resting his thumbs upon his belt buckle.

	[color=00BFFF]“Can’t say I’m all that fond of that craggy ol’ geriatric myself, though I think the townsfolk have had enough shit thrown their way recently without the likes of us knocking them stupid, eh? I’d thank you to keep them elbows of yours to yourself in the future.”[/color] He admonished her gently, yet there was an edge of iron to his relaxed tone. He’d never been all that fond of the strong lording it over the weak. Still, he hadn’t come over to tell her to mind her manners. 

	[color=00BFFF]“Names Magnus. Magnus Arhakaine. Couldn’t help but overhear you lot when you came in. Been investigating some happenings of my own, concerning the restless dead crawling outta their final resting places and attacking the town. Wondering if our two problems ain’t linked. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind sharing whatever it is you know with me. I’d be mighty appreciative.”[/color]