It had been a while since Kieran had had anything to drink other than water and the young Witcher decided to make up for all those sober weeks by ordering a few more rounds of ale. His advanced metabolism and resistance to toxins allowed him to process alcohol much better than a normal man, and it would take more ale than he had coin to spare to truly make Kieran blackout drunk. But he had enough spare coin to get a good buzz going. It soon became clear that Fridolf was not going to come down before at least noon the next day. So just after midnight, Kieran loped off to the stable to find a spare hay bale to fall asleep in, next to Storm, barely taking time to strip off his swordbelt, take off his armor, pull off his boots and gloves, and spread his cloak beneath himself before falling asleep.

Kieran awoke early in the morning, stretching out and smiling to himself. He'd had a roof over his head, the straw was clean, and his sleep had been dreamless and deep. One of the most refreshing nights he'd had in a little while. Now it was time to work. The Witcher strapped his sword belt back on around his hip, brushing the straw from his cloak before replacing his armor wrapping himself back in the cloak. Kieran then donned his cloth scarf to cover the lower half of his head, his medallion hidden beneath his armor. Kieran made sure he was clean of straw and pulled on his boots and gloves. He pet Storm, and the young mare snuffled in greeting. 

[color=gold] "You get to rest today, old friend. No place for a horse in a sewer." [/color] 

The Witcher had tracked monsters through all manner of terrain before, but it would be his first time tracking anything through the muck of a major city. Kieran fully expected for his clothes to be stained with all manner of ungodly debris and slime, he would have to ask around for a good cleaning wench afterward. But with 200 gold, he could certainly afford it and then some. Enough to keep them in the inn for quite some time and allow the Witcher breathing room to track down leads on the Beast of Telchar. 

With a sense of purpose and a spring in his step, Kieran walked off to find the Town Hall. He followed the signs, his senses taking in all the sights and sounds of the vibrant, lurid, alive city and his long strides making quick time. Kieran weaved in between the crowds, light of foot, and within the hour he found himself as the Town Hall. Kieran scanned the building, noting guard dispositions and possible escape routes in case of the worst. He wasn't expecting discovery, but it never paid not to have a plan just in case. He had the Samum bombs. Kieran wasn't planning on a fight, or even killing anyone, but he could make a quick exit if he needed it.

Calm and confident, Kieran strode into the large building, looking for all the world like an experienced mercenary or knight errant, if a bit young. He noted a pale-haired swordsman who also had two blades, and a burly dwarf who looked like he knew his business. Likely other fighters for hire, and it seemed as if they were pursuing the contract as well. Kieran grimaced internally. Neither looked like greenhorns, but they weren't Witchers. They could very well get in his way. And he'd have to split the reward if neither of the two mercenaries wanted to just kill him first. There had been more than one mundane monster hunter who had tried to take all the coin for themselves and take Kieran out of the picture. 

The Witcher traded glances with both and quickly measured what he could with his senses in a short time, which was quite a bit. Then he said, [color=gold] "Let's hope three isn't a crowd then. I have experience in taking care of drowners, and this contract is right up my alley. I'd welcome the company, as long as we agree to split the earnings fairly." [/color]