Silence permeated Kalan's room as he sat cross-legged on the floor of his dingy motel room. His eyes were closed and his breathing light as he meditated within his room, blocking out his environment and turning his attention inwards. It had only been a fortnight since he had ran but he tried his best to avoid mentally dealing with it. For now he was simply concerned with survival and feelings were only getting in the way. 

[i]Mother won't approve[/i]

He silenced the stray thought in his clear mind and returned to the emptiness he craved. 

It was called it Jarnsana, or Iron Mind and it was something the Grey Elves back on at the Fortress had recommended to him, ''It is to hold off the Nel dwekar ,'' they had said. At the time he had taken it to be an insult and simply ignored it but upon his deserting it had become almost a daily occurrence, a way to cope with the world. He wasn't sure exactly what that meant but he tried not to think too deeply into it, all he cared about was it gave him the rationale to survive. 

Kalan's blue eyes slowly opened as he came out of his trance, satisfied with his technique, and proceed to get himself dressed in his Leather Armour. As he did so he noted the lingering effects of Jarnsana, his emotions had begun to exert themselves again but they felt distant, almost blunted, although it wasn't like he was in any position to care. 
Once he had dressed he began to approach the door when he turned to face his room deciding to take it in. It was a single room containing only a shabby mattress he hadn't used although he has suspected it had been used for a variety of reason other than sleeping, the plaster on the walls had long since torn off exposing the bare grey wall beneath and the old molding floorboards creaked with his every movement. In reflection he should probably have been willing to spend more on a room but it's amazing how many painful things you'll convince yourself to do while maintaining the Jarnsana. If there's one thing about the Iron Mind it's one cheap son of a bitch. 

''They're back,'' he noticed as he placed his hooded cloak o his shoulders, picking up on his sarcastic thoughts and the physical disgust he felt observing his room. Once again he sighed deciding to leave before he collapsed and went out of his room into the outside world. As he passed the motel foyer, he heard what he swore was a voice and turned around to find a small pixie barely managing to keep itself afloat. 

 His heart ached at the sight of her, she almost seemed childlike due to how sickly and thin she appeared, her clothes were dirty and in tatters. Her long unkempt brown hair swept over her face, two dimly glowing purple eyes poking through the clumps of hair. This wasn't a pixie who had any say in her conditions. This was an enslaved pixie. As he pitied her, she looked angrily at him with as she realized just who she was addressing but nevertheless delivered her message. 

''One Hour. The Bogart's Hole''. 

Kalan nodded once he realized what she was referring to. As an ex-cop, many in the criminal underworld wanted his services, but an Iron Police who happens to be half Grey Elf is a catch indeed. It had taken him a while to get used to the constant offers, especially considering how recently it had been since he had ran, but after talking to a particularly talkative wisp messenger, he got the jist. 

[i]''Ya see my nieve Grey, most people are double crossing bastards. Why the hell do ya think we're in this situation? But the worst of these bastards are the criminals, no one, not even the filthy Humans like them. Now as much as our friendly neighborhood criminal would like to screw the rules and get to the top of this piece of shit we call the Blight, he can't do that without connections, connections with those same untrustworthy criminals he hails from. Now he knows if he wants to keep his skin, he needs to look tough. That's where you come in, you stand there and scare the shit out of everyone and our criminal gets what the hell he wants,''.

''Any recommendations, you seem like a knowledgeable guy''. 

''Well if I was to give you my personal advise I would wait it out a bit. All these offers are from small fish, low lives, criminals trying to get a leg up in the world. If you really want to reap the rewards you wait until someone a bit better comes along. They're just watching the commotion, waiting to see what you do and what you'll be willing to sell out for. They'll only care if your smart, someone worth spending money on. Only when you wait do the big fish come along, just listen out at the bars and you'll figure out who are the movers and shakers down here,''.[/i] 

''Whose offering?'' Kalan responded. 

''Donovon,'' she growled, as if the word itself was poison to her. 

As he heard the name he smiled, taking the Pixie aback at the show of emotion. A Big Fish. Finally.