Zahir nodded at the man at the desk with the ledger. He was perhaps in his 50s, with an eye patch, and thick sun worn skin. His hair was salt and pepper. " Ah, Zahir, come back to us eh? What are you after today?"
Zahir waves dismissively at him. " I'm just here lookin' for information old man. The guild usually has deep roots into the underbelly of society. I'm after someone."
" Ah, well, ask, and maybe I'll have answers," said the one eyed man.
" I'm looking for a bounty, his name is Revan. Pretty good price for the fella, dead or alive. Supposed to be a real piece of work." Explained Zahir.
From a darkened corner of the room, a figure stepped out. Tall, hooded, with a prominent short sword on each hip. The cloak was thick, undyed wool that came to the waist. Eyes glow from under the hood, and a sallow voice slipped out from thin lips." I might know something, brother. There have been whispers in the deeps of the forest. But as you know, everything comes with a price..."