[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/1Is4BIi.png[/img][/center]
[center][h3][color=e93b1c][b]Location: Outside the craenak encampments[/b] [/color][color=e93b1c]||[/color][color=e93b1c] [b]Taking a breather, overhearing conspiracies[/b] [/color][color=e93b1c]||[/color][color=e93b1c]  [b]Mood: foreboding[/b][/color][/h3]
[i]Mentions: [/i] A fellow eavesdropper [@Reddusk][/center]

Floran was happy to have finally left the cold Craenak mountains to once again touch upon warmer soil.  The last few months had been a little bit too cold for his liking, albeit rather lucrative he had to admit. Craenak were capable. practical, but few in number. As such, capable hands were always welcomed in the cold north. Luckily for Floran, he managed to land a job in the escort of the Craenak's leaders to the clan gathering, a place he was headed to regardless. 

A good mercenary was never going to get better work oppurtunities than at the gathering. Floran had quite a reputation with many clans. Not only was he in his line of work far longer the average joe, which quickly retired after losing a limb or two within a year or three, and he was known as one of the most reliable people around. Floran was an odd mercenary in the sense that he actually had a lick of honour.

The last time he had worked for the Craenak, their old chieftain was still in charge. Boy, how times had changed. Something about this new chief was... unsettling. He was far more secretive than the former chieftain had been. And unlike their formerly practical ways, the path they were talking to the meeting was incredibly... lonely. Was he straying from the lands of other clans on purpose? And why had the chieftain hired such a great amount of mercenaries to accompany him? For now it was not on Floran's mind, but something told him there was trouble on the horizon. A strange thing, seeing how the bonds between clans were only getting tighter. The great alliance between wolfrahg and Karill that was to become reality in but a few days was perhaps one of the greatest telltale marks of this.

But Floran simply couldn't shake the feeling that something was incredibly off.

After setting up camp for the night, Floran left the company of the other mercenaries to head into the area surrounding the tents. He knew this area, and it had some amazing sights to see if you knew where to look. Floran himself enjoyed a clearing close to a stream where he could quickly refresh himself. The clearing itself provided solace to the mercenary, a well-deserved peace of mind which he gladly filled with some training. Floran personally believed the best progress was made when one was in the perfect state of mind.
Floran undid his blade of the leather scabbard that  envelloped it. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling the weight in his hands before he started moving. His footwork was precise, quick and efficient. His arms swung his blade with force and velocity. There was no grace to Floran's movements, just stone hard efficiency.  Floran knew better than to let aesthetics get in the way of his survival, unlike many of the fools calling themselves warriors these days.  He had met too many who would rather be a performer than a warrior, and had gotten their heads bitten off because of it. Not many had ever heeded the man's warnings, but he would heed them himself.

After having built up a good sweat, Floran judged his own performance with satisfaction. I need for a bit of cleansing, he started heading towards the water close by. It was then that he was stopped by a sudden shout that pierced the silence. "Damn the beast-faced Abaneki!"  It obviously wasn't directed at him, however. Thus, Floran decided to slowly approach and keep a low profile, just to make sure his presence wasn't unwelcome. He could see a multitude of figures in the distance, maybe seven or so, walking past his position by about fifty or so meters. Their faces were turned away from him, but their voices were audible.

"We strike the second day of the gathering?" One of them asked, sounding somewhat intoxicated. "I thought it was the third, that comes after four, right?" One of his allies smacked him on the back of the head, telling him to keep his voice down a little. "Yes, the second day, numbskull. We get in, kill the chief and his heirs the moment we can get them alone, and bolt. No looting, no playing around. Just a quick in-and-out. I'm not saving your sorry arse from the guards this time..." At this point the voices faded into the distance.

Apparently Floran had been right about trouble brewing, though this wasn't what he had in mind.
As he emerged, he could see another figure from the distance, appearing from behind a rather large boulder. Perhaps he hadn't been the only one to overhear. He smiled a little as he closed the distance and hailed the person he recognized as the Craenak champion. The two hadn't talked before, but after a few months the man was bound to at least recognize Floran's face. [color=e93b1c]"You, your name was Vadik, correct?" [/color] He said, not leaving much room for an answer [color=e93b1c]"How interested are you in saving a chieftain?"[/color]