"And, of course, allow me to officially declare this job accepted on behalf of our mercenary band."

"Excellent," replied An'Jantar, "Be at the main square - the Great Plaza, I'm sure you know it - when the clock strikes four."

As if on command, the big town bell struck once.

"See you in three strikes," finished the councillor as he left the tavern calmly, tossing a couple of coins onto the bar as he left.

Bon turned to to DHarem, "What're these then?"
DHarem’s eye lifted from his meal and looked at the items that Bon had removed from the pouch. His eyebrow lifted when he seen it and he reached out carefully and prodded the tiny ‘pebbles’ with the tip of one finger.

“Fascinating,” he said and smiled slightly, “If I am not mistaken, this appears to be Centralium; an alloy of Centrum and Catalium. These two rare materials which in themselves have special properties; but mixed..”

Dharem shakes his head at the thought of who would be crazy enough to mix to these two materials.

“.. it could be quite .. unstable.” DHarem continued and gently slide the items towards Bon. “You might not want to drop or throw them they will probably explode.”

He went back to eating and sipping his wine wondering what Bon would do with them and where a simple man like the one that had given them to Bon was doing with them.

He heard a clink of coins and looked over to the table where Varis was and saw a sack exchanged between the well dressed man and their leader. It seemed a job had been given and excepted; DHarem was glad of that. He hated sitting around and working at something while he did his chosen profession helped to pass the time. Besides, their ‘adventures’ were often learning experiences as well.

He watched as their ‘employer’ left the Tavern and turned to look at Varis waiting for him to come and lay the assignment on them. He gestured with his head towards the unconscious companion and spoke to Bon.

“You might want to wake him up for this,” he said with a nod, “I think Varis has a job for us.”

Varis seems to freeze for a brief instance, his eyes suddenly following something across the tavern, widening.

Suddenly he races, without stopping to think, to the table where the rest of the group is sitting, grabbing his sheathed sword where it lay conviniently on the table with a hand and hooking underneath DHarem's arm, dragging him up from his seat with the other hand.

A frenzied whisper escapes his lips to Bon and DHarem, "Come ON! Now!", before the bard, heedless of his pack, drink or armor, dashes to the exit of the tavern , drawing his sword with a *rrriinng* as he does so.

Bon passed the small bag to DHarem, "Here, you take them."

**

Suddenly Varis races, without stopping to think, to the table where the rest of the group is sitting, grabbing his sheathed sword where it lay conviniently on the table with a hand and hooking underneath DHarem's arm, dragging him up from his seat with the other hand.

A frenzied whisper escapes his lips to Bon and DHarem, "Come ON! Now!", before the bard, heedless of his pack, drink or armor, dashes to the exit of the tavern , drawing his sword with a *rrriinng* as he does so.

**

As the second single reminder strike from the bell rang out, Varis and DHarem burst from the tavern, to see the Councillor walking away from them as calm as he was when he left the tavern.

Bon soon followed, and sniffed the air, looking around.
"There," he replied, pointing into an alleyway.

There stood the brown-cloaked figure, leaning against the wall, his right hand raised with a beckoning finger, as if drawing them towards him.

As they approached, he pulled down his hood shading his face to reveal a simple, painted glass mask.

Suddenly he races, without stopping to think, to the table where the rest of the group is sitting, grabbing his sheathed sword where it lay conviniently on the table with a hand and hooking underneath DHarem's arm, dragging him up from his seat with the other hand.

A frenzied whisper escapes his lips to Bon and DHarem, "Come ON! Now!", before the bard, heedless of his pack, drink or armor, dashes to the exit of the tavern , drawing his sword with a *rrriinng* as he does so.
DHarem looked up and raised an eyebrow as he saw the look on Varis’s face, he immediately got up and followed leaving his things there, including the bag of pebbles that Bon had slide over to him. On his way to the door he kicked the foot of Thomas hoping to awaken him from his induced slumber.

“Wake up Thomas!” he said loud enough, “be alert!”

He withdrew a electrum piece and tosses it through the air to the bartender who deftly plucked it out of the air with precision.

“We will be right back,” he said as he followed Varis out, “watch our things and make sure nothing happens to them.”

Whatever Varis had seen had surely put him on alert; it was not like their leader to draw his sword unless he thought he needed to use it. He preferred to talk before fighting when possible.

Outside he looked around for danger and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary until Bon pointed to the nearby alleyway.

“There!”
Looking into the alley he took a couple of steps in that direction and studied the figure he saw there; a brown cloaked person leaning nonchalantly against the wall beckoning to them to approach. As they cautiously approached the figure removed the hood revealing a face covered with a painted glass mask.

This instantly sparked a memory, but he couldn’t quite recall at the moment. As they drew closer, he looked around them for other signs of danger. He didn’t want to be looking at this figure and be jumped from behind. He stayed alert and let Varis handle the questioning; though he still wondered if this person was what caused their Leader’s sudden actions.

The figure dropped their brown cloak to the floor with a wave of the hand, revealing simple clothing, a round metal shield attached to their back along with a scabbard.

With a whirl, the figure pulled the sword from the sheath and unbuckled the shield, faster than any could detect, and planted the first in the ground with the second hanging over it.

On the metal shield, painted golden, was the insignia of a simplified weighing scale: the objects on the left scale were far bigger than those on the right, yet they were both propped up by a bright symbolised red stick underneath.

Varis practically skidded to a halt, seeing the figure so clearly disarming him-or her-self. Varis hadn't seen anything like the person before, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the sword embedded into the ground could be back in the figure's hand in seconds, from their speed beforehand.

Varis's hair prickled, wary of the possibility of someone attacking from behind them nonetheless, though calmed when he noticed DHarem's intent, wary glances. If anything came at them, he trusted either of his companions to know, but having DHarem at his back was particularly comforting.

Good thing there were others there, as a diplomat with a drawn sword in his hand is quite simply not a diplomat. Varis sheathed his weapon, spending a couple of second re-buckling it to his belt, nodding his thanks to DHarem and Bon for their backup. He glanced behind him to see the Councillor, utterly unharmed and somehow seeming not to have heard anything, still walking off.

Varis let out an inward sigh of relief, his fear of the figure being an assassin of some kind allayed...for now, anyway.

Varis bowed as he approached the figure, his voice changing to the carefully-pronounced one of a person whom was trustworthy and polite.

"My deepest apologies. You startled us with your speed. May I ask as to your name, or occupation, good sir? I am Varis Caese, and these are of my mercenary band, Hunter Bon and Seeker of Knowledge Dharem."

Something clicked in the back of Varis' mind. He didn't know anything about this person, but there was the possibility...

"Also, may I ask if you, perhaps, are the foreigner who it is rumored will be taking a Duel of Knowledge with a councillor of this city?" Varis spoke carefully, hiding how unnerving the masked figure was. He suddenly dared not look away from the figure to check to see if An'Jantar had heard him.

"Also, may I ask if you, perhaps, are the foreigner who it is rumored will be taking a Duel of Knowledge with a councillor of this city?"

The masked figure chuckled, "Nay, I am not a foreigner. Tithuana is and always will be my home."
The figure shuffled a little to stand up straighter, "Sorry for having startled you, I needed to attract your attention... I don't have much time and I'm sure you have just as little, so I will get to the point.
"I am a member of the Equilibriates, a secret organisation here in Tithuana. As you have probably understood, we seek balance. The state of the city is perfect at the moment, and we don't want this to change."

A pause.

"The other councillors seek to upset this balance and make Tithuana rise up to military and economic glory. There are many reasons that this must not happen, but they are of little importance to you.
"What you must know is this piece of advice, intentionally cryptic. Listen carefully: The councillor you must defend. When Red attacks, aim for the right arm."

With that, and before the group could say anything, the man grabbed sword, shield and cloak, leaping onto the rooftops faster than their eyes could follow. On the floor remained a small, black drawstring bag, closed.

"I am a member of the Equilibriates, a secret organization here in Tithuana. As you have probably understood, we seek balance. The state of the city is perfect at the moment, and we don't want this to change."

A pause.

"The other councilors seek to upset this balance and make Tithuana rise up to military and economic glory. There are many reasons that this must not happen, but they are of little importance to you.
"What you must know is this piece of advice, intentionally cryptic. Listen carefully: The councilor you must defend. When Red attacks, aim for the right arm."
DHarem had turned to listen to the exchange between Varis and this strange brown cloaked figure; though his attention to the sounds and things around him did not waver. He raised a brow at the figures words and watched in silence as the person snatched up his things and disappeared. He looked back to Varis and shrugged faintly then nodded his head towards the item that was left behind indicating that Varis should take it.

Without waiting, DHarem turned and walked back into the Tavern; he looked to see if Thomas was still unconscious as he walked back to their table and checked on the items they had left there. Though they had been gone only a minute, and he had asked the bartender to watch the things for them, he checked to make sure everything looked undisturbed before sitting again and returning to his meal and drink.

He knew that they would discuss this in time; for now he ran what had happened through his mind and pondered the possibilities of things to come.

Varis blinked, filing the figure's mannerisms into his mind. Varis may, perhaps, never reach the same level of perception and distinct memory that DHarem displayed, but even from so short a conversation, he knew more distinctly how to approach the person next time.

"Some 'secret' organization. Equilibriates, huh? Sounds like what songs are made of, isn't that right?" Varis muttered, turning to see a wry grin on Bon's face...and Councillor An'Jantar gone.

Varis frowned, before shrugging, walking over to the dropped bag.

""Intentionally cryptic". Hmm, that'd make a good poem, too. Go and join DHarem, I'll be with you in a second." Varis mentioned, somewhat absently. He was tired, back in the cold without a cloak and back on aching feet, the pain returning now that the original adrenaline rush had faded. As Bon returned to the tavern, Varis walked over, looking to either side before picking up the bag, warily loosening the drawstring to peer inside, comforted that regardless of what it contained, if it was dangerous then it was, at least, well away from his companions.

((Nothing for Varis, sorry. I'm sure you'll work it out somehow ^^))

The tavern was in much the same state as when they'd left, albeit a lot quieter with Thomas unconscious.
Incidentally, he had just woken up, rubbing his head with a scowl on his face, thankfully remaining silent and grumpy.
Bon and Thomas both sat down at the table, the former taking a swig whilst grinning... the latter frowning in anger.

But the stranger who had been "saved" by Bon from Thomas' babbling stepped from a corner of the tavern. Yet another cloaked individual, only the corner of a mouth was visible.
A small red bow was attached to the cloak, near the collar.

Tapping DHarem's shoulder, a deep voice emerged from the shadows of the hood, "I need to speak with you. Do you mind?"

The tap on his shoulder was not unexpected, DHarem had heard the man's approach. What happened next was probably a surprise for the man.

Reaching up DHarem grabbed the man's wrist and twisted and put the man's arm into a painful armbar as he stood up. He turned and quickly brought the man down across the table to lay face up. Looking down into the man's face.

"It is not wise to slip up on a seeker." He said with a grin. Holding the armbar still he asked, "what is it you want?"

Varis raised his eyes at what he saw inside...a small rock, with a distinctly...yellow tinge. Varis frowned, tearing his eyes away from the stone, realizing he waas staring...unhealthily at it, instead leaning his head on the cold surface of a nearby street-wall.

He closed his eyes, frowning, trying to focus through the sudden dizziness. He felt as if his own magic had left him, as if pushed away by some force, something...not-magic. He lifted his head back from the wall, determinedly closing the bag. "Not-Magic"...that's the best way he could describe that...thing.

Varis sighed, leaning his head against the wall again. After the madness of the last few minutes, he was glad of the cold, solid surface. Still, the cold was the primary thing that eventually drove him back inside the tavern some time later...

Leaving him raising his eyebrows at the scene before him. Leaning on the doorway, he called out to his companion, grinning as he did.

"Under attack again, are we, DHarem? Well, go easy on him. Last time you did that to me it took a week for the soreness to pass." Varis joked, raising his eyebrows.

"It is not wise to slip up on a seeker." He said with a grin. Holding the armbar still he asked, "what is it you want?"

The man winced, but did not make a sound, before speaking, "I am glad to see you are as skilled as I hoped. I need to speak with you as to a matter of great importance for Tithuana. I saw you speak with the councillor and I feel you need to hear several sides of the story."

"Under attack again, are we, DHarem? Well, go easy on him. Last time you did that to me it took a week for the soreness to pass." Varis joked, raising his eyebrows.

"I would be much obliged if you did go easy on me, I have a particular attachment to my arm," the stranger smiled before wincing again.

DHarem listened to the man as he spoke and pondered until Varis came in and made a joke about the last time. He released the stranger slowly and allowed the man to get up.

“Yeah but you deserved it for not listening when I am trying to teach you proper techniques," he chuckled and watched the stranger get up, “we have yet to see what this man deserves.”

The Seeker stepped back to let him rise fully yet he kept on guard.

“So what it is you have to tell us.” He gestured to an empty chair at their table as he took his own seat once more.

(Edit to fix my mistake)