The Taalunian stared at the ceiling, the stubble of a beard showing on his jaw as his blank eyes remained above. This dank tavern he sat in were full of hushed whispers and hidden daggers, thirsty for blood. The shadows muttered royal and peasant secrets alike to the drunken ears of huntsmen. There was no joy in this tavern tonight, even the maiden singing songs of triumph tainted her melodies with somber apathy. The innskeeper, and bartender of the tavern washed down his counters with bleak joy and the smile that played on his lips was fit only for the lips of a porcelein doll; and twas just as false. 
The Taalunian's demanor did not even hold a bleak smile, but parted lips and empty eyes. Although no one seemed to be home, as some regulars would tell you, he simply had talent to block the din of party and the roar of silence out to go to a place as dark as the depths of the sea. Lost in his memories, reliving a pain so quiet and broken that tears did not suffice his tragedy. 
His wings, long unused, felt cramped behind his back as he lay against them on the chair. His urge to stretch the wings that deemed him his race was like the thirst of water to a dying man. With a strong blink and a sharp pain in his lower back, the Taalunian stood up to toss some gold coins on the table and leave the lonely tavern. He opened the wooden door to the cold breeze of the autumn. A frost bit as his stubbled cheeks as his hand pulled the door closed behind him. With a glance at his surroundings and to the sign above, declaring the name of the building "Oaks Inn & Tavern," He stretched his massive wings, each individual brown and white feather fanning out, hitting him once more with that painful longing to fly. A groan of pleasure escaped his lips as the blood rushed back through his devices of flight; causing a sharp ache in his head from the suddent blood rush to his brain. 
"So, You are a Taalunian?"
The tawny-winged Taalunian looked over at a dark haired man, with a hood cloaking his complete identity.
"Aye?" His eyes narrowed at the dark haired stranger.
"Then you must be the one I'm looking for." As the stranger drew near, the Taalunian could see his crooked yellow teeth and smell the stench of pickled eggs on his breath. The Taalunians eyes narrowed. 
"An' why would you be looking for me?" He asked, folding his arms. He already knew the answer.
"You are the best long-range assassin from these slums. No?" Once, this praise would have fluffed his feathers and put a smile on my face. But no longer.
"Aye... so they say."
Without another word, the dark haired man held out a rolled up poster. The Taalunian took the poster quizzically and unrolled it to see a drawing of the former princess of Dracolia. A reward for her head for 20,000 gold. 
"Will you take my bounty?" The dark haired man asked. The Taalunian looked up at him, his golden eyes cold. "Will you take my bounty," The man asked again, "And bring back the one you love... Anim Igriik?"

Anim's eyes widened and he looked around as the dark haired man faded away. A Mage? Who knew... He looked back at the bounty and clutched it tightly, his golden eyes darkening. His thoughts retraced the dark-haired man's words.... and he clutched the poster in his hand, crumpling it in his fist. 

It's time to go hunting.