A figure clad in black robes entered the tavern, slinking through the crowd unnoticed, as if a spectre. Even when he grabbed a patron's drink off the table as he passed, nobody so much as blinked, as if his very presence was intangible to those around him. The figure quickly found his way to Lazarus' table, taking a seat opposite the mercenary. A faint trickle of blood traced down a small stone held in the figure's hands, dripping on the floor, the color matching his dark red eyes. It was only after the figure dropped the stone into his pocket, his eyes shifting from red to black, that he seemed to appear before Lazarus, almost as if it were totally natural. 

“I was very impressed with your work today,” the figure said, tracing the rim of his stolen drink with a gold coin. “Not many men are capable of performing a task with such... precision. I appreciate professionalism in my line of work.”

The man extended a hand towards Lazarus, his skin covered in deep scars, and introduced himself. “My name is Vlad, and I have need of your services. Immediately if possible. Name your price; I can assure you it is within my means. As you can imagine, discretion is paramount as well. Simply do your job and report back for your reward.”

Placing the gold coin down on the table, he gestured towards a barmaid, ordered the most expensive drink the bar offered, and continued to detail his request. “I need a man killed before morning. He won't be easy to get to, but he should be fairly easy for a man of your talents to eliminate if you can get close. He goes by the name Vates. You might recognize him as a member of the council of the righteous.”

As he spoke, vlad reached into his cloak to recover a satchel, dropping it on the table with a solid thud. The catch loosened, revealing over a hundred gold pieces, enough to buy a small home in even the capital of Adalrich. “This is for your time, and as a sign of goodwill. Consider it... a token of appreciation. If you choose to accept my request, return here tomorrow at the same time with your price and I can guarantee your safe escape from the city and your heart's desires.”

“Think it over,” Vlad said, standing up from the table. He retrieved a different stone from his pocket, as well as a small knife. Cutting the tip of his finger, he allowed a single bead to form before smearing it on the stone. He mumbled to himself in a strange language before vanishing, leaving no trace save for a single drop of blood on the floor.