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[sub][color=7b5d92]✧     Location: Soft Haven - Bounty House  ✧     Purse: 4 copper     ✧  Interactions:    ✧[/color][/sub][/center]

[Hider=The Night Before]Growing up, his village told many stories about ghosts and spirits, the remainder of those who have left this world behind. Whatever 'shadow' skulked the night of the New Moon didn't appear to be supernatural in base. The thought of it was a little disappointing to say the least. Ermes chewed on these thoughts as he made his way around the town, purchasing what he'd need for the long road ahead, doubtful that they'd have the time nor energy to make a habit of hunting for their meals as they went. For a moment his thoughts went back to what Cerric had said earlier that day. The Legend of the Rancor of Morn Org. A cold shiver went down his spine, something he'd dared not display in front of those strangers back at the Bounty House. 

[i]The Rancor of Morn Org[/i]. The title mulled over in his mind as he tried to recall its details. It bore strikingly similar characteristics to the spirits in his village legends. Wicked souls beyond rehabilitation, turning into beings of immense power and malevolence as they drew their final breath. He'd thought he ran away from all that, leaving the demons behind at the sea. But here he was drawn to another town that was plagued by a similar fate. When Ermes looked down he noticed his hands were shaking, stuffing them quickly into his pockets as he closed his eyes and tried to take in a deep breath. An image flashed before his mind, the scaled visage of the water demons that infested his home. His eyes shot back open as he took in a sharp breath before rounding a corner and stowing himself away behind a building. He offered a silent prayer to the gods, asking Irrigan for forgiveness and time to ensure he could fulfill his fate that Lady Azaiza laid out for him.

Perhaps both halves of his village were right, his birth could have been both an omen of ill tidings before he was capable enough to fulfill his fate and drive off the demon force for good. The Mist offered some opportunities towards this goal, but the Bounty House seemed a better way to expedite it. Something he hadn't considered in a long while. The sun was beginning to set, and night was quickly upon him as he waited for the cover of dark. The Duke's house wasn't too far off, and the building he was at provided a good vantage point to see their comings and goings. It was time to do some work before he called it a night. He took in another deep breath, slowly letting it out before using his powers.

He held one arm up, palm towards his face and half closed as he whispered [Color=7b5d92]"Cloak"[/color]. Shadows wrapped around his body, concealing all of his clothing as a singular dark blue jumpsuit enveloped him, a neck cowl forming tightly up just beneath his eyes as a hood covered his Shadowy hair and held it back, his shoes adding some height to him so that he stood at 5'10 instead. He opened the large compartment of his bag, removing a mask that resembled the top half of a fox skull. His people believed that the spirits of foxes were closely tied to that of Melanar, Goddess of the Wilds, and Zunbil, God of the Sun. They were faithful guardians and messengers of the gods, warning of dangers to come. He placed the half mask on, tying it in the back inside the hood so that no one who spotted him would know who he was.

He made a winding motion with his hand, throwing an invisible grapple towards the top of the roof as he whispered his spell. A rope appeared, taut in his hands, as the grapple hooked at the edge. He made his climb quickly, knowing he hadn't put much Aether within this construct so his time was limited. He'd barely made it high enough to reach the edge of the roof when it disappeared, having to pull himself up quietly as he made his way onto a flat portion and laid down flat. Luckily for him he'd had a lot of practice with this sort of thing, always hoping to be able to use it for work. The night, however, went uneventful. He'd spent hours up top watching the guards and jotting down symbols. He didn't know how to read nor write, but he had a language of his own. Shapes and pictographs to symbolize things only he knew.

Once he felt satisfied, and recalled they were to meet early in the morning, he climbed down, dispelling his disguise and meandering his way towards the inn. The night had grown cold and it was no condition to sleep outside lest he wanted to wake up covered in the morning's fog and chilled straight through to his bones. He'd paid his copper for a shared room and crashed.[/hider]

Morning light broke through the window, bands of gold hitting Ermes in the eyes. He didn't care to open them, simply shifting his arm down from where it rested on his forehead now to over his eyes. A small sigh escaped him as he lay there motionless for a moment, taking the time to wake up before finally sitting up atop the bed. Shifting himself until he no longer felt the warmth of the sun in his face. His eyes opened to see that his roommate was still sound asleep, much like how he'd found him the night before when he entered the room. 

Ermes quickly gathered his belongings, checking to make sure none of his items were disturbed or stolen. He didn't have much, but nothing was seemingly missing to his surprise as he placed the last of his items back into his bag before quietly heading out. He quickly scanned the morning atmosphere of the Treant, noticing a lack of food out for grabs, no doubt due to their clientele. He only had four copper to his name now, and he wasn't about to waste it on something he might be able to get for free. He spied the scent of freshly baked bread coming from a near-by shop,  deciding to employ an old tactic in a new city.

Once that was all well and settled he'd begun to make his way out of town, towards the Bounty House where they were to meet their client and go off on this trial. The morning weather was beautiful in its own right, making the walk there more pleasant than he'd expected. He could see four vague shapes off into the distance, coming clearer into vision as he noticed it was Cerric, Kyreth, Ceolfric, and who he could only assume was the escort mentioned. He found it odd that Eila hadn't shown up yet, having pegged her as an early riser as well as one to meet anywhere earlier than previously discussed. Unless she was the learned type that constantly arrived late, waving their titles as excuses for having poor manners.

In any case, Ermes pulled up right beside Kyreth, not looking towards the man but in the same direction he was facing. [Color=7b5d92]"Where's your friend? I thought you two were a package deal."[/color] He spoke in between bites of a large baguette. The bread was still warm to the touch, and extremely pillow-y inside. He took every bite with care, knowing full well the next ten days wouldn't have anything near as good as this. Another bite. Then he looked up towards Kyreth, locking into his eyes before tilting the bread towards him as if to offer a piece.