The knave pondered Okan's idea, but only for a moment. There was really no reason not to do the job, if he had to be honest with himself, and he was often inclined to only be honest with himself. He didn't think Okan was planting him for a trap, and even if he was, Amal never doubted his chances of escaping and wreaking vengeance. It had happened plenty of times before. If one did what he did, that led to risks. 

"I've never had problems with grave robbers, but if it brings me a vial of the good stuff then who am I to complain? I'll see you when it's done." He remarked with a propitiating shrug, and with a knowing look to Okan, Amal stepped away and faded into the shadows, wanting to see the layout of the town whilst vaguely walking in the direction he was pointed at.  More than one his trained eyed caught thieving signs and pickpockets nabbing their marks. Arilquas really was a place for him. At least in style. There was a lot of competition for work, but that never bothered him much. Guilds he did not like, but a bunch of freelancers weren't a problem. 

He slid through the bazaar and a few downtrodden streets, scoping out some of the more well-to-do buildings before laying eyes on the prize. Just outside of the small city was a running river, the smell was discernible to him. A desert dweller could sense water unlike any other. The stone canopy of the house looked like it could bake a slave in the sun, but it kept the manor below it cool. 

Amal kept to the trees, keeping himself out of sight. He glimpsed the barest hint of movement near the villa; likely the hired sword Amal had been warned about. He approached cautiously, going around and hugging the river, before scaling a small garden wall and following the path until he neared where he last saw the guard. Quietly he pulled his scimitar out, poising it for a killing strike the next time the guard patrolled back towards his area... [@Shu]