[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=39b54a]William Fraser[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://bookesther.files.wordpress.com/2017/02/john-thornton-smile-gif.gif?w=500[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][color=39b54a][b]Location:[/b][/color] [b]Gretna Green[/b]
[color=39b54a][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [b]Perception[/b] [/center][hr]

	William had to move quickly to keep up with Rutherford, the other man clearly knowing where he was going, and determined to not waste any more time. The slight smile that Millicent cast back towards him had more of an effect on William than he had expected it to. Something linked him to the woman, it had been scratching at the back of William's head since he had first seen her across the crowded inn, but every time he tried to put his finger on it, it darted away. The storyteller in him wanted to call it fate, and maybe it was. All that William really knew is that he had stumbled into the midst of something, and for now, that meant he was the rogue piece, the piece that didn't fit in these grand plans because he couldn't have been accounted for in them. And that gave him an advantage. Picking up his pace slightly, so that he was only a few paces behind the couple, William glanced at Rutherford. 

	Maybe it was his recent revelation, but something granted William a rare moment of clarity, and he finally had a better idea of what he was up against. A dagger in the Lord's belt, and a pistol in his jacket. William had known Rutherford was armed, and now that he could tell with what, he could start to plan. If it came to it, then Rutherford held one advantage over William, range. With that pistol in play, then William would need to close any distance between the two men quickly. Once he was close, then William would be able to use his short swords, and if it came to it, he could make use of his training in Kadlin. Some part of William still hoped that it wouldn't come to violence, but if it did... 

	Something else caught William's eye, and as he looked over towards Millicent, he saw a flash of metal. It was only for an instant, and for a moment, William questioned he had even seen it at all. But some part of him knew that he had. He had learnt a long time ago not to judge people by appearances, and it appeared that he had found another example in Millicent. The meek and slight woman was armed; the cat had claws so to speak. Frowning slightly, half-expecting every new turn to reveal some new detail, William continued after the increasingly unusual pair.