A deal with a devil had been done and now the devil was demanding its due from Liam. He had promised his service as a sellsword to Joseph Tailor, the owner of the Fancy Fabric tailoring and fabric store, several days ago. It almost seemed like he wouldn't be hearing back from the elderly man, but then the letter from him came. It seemed the time to pay had come. Liam leaned against the wall as he kept his eye on Joseph at his table in some port side tavern only good for cheap grog and shady dealings. The bald, wrinkled, and yet sharp eyed old man was waiting for the other interested parties he had found to arrive. There was no real details yet on what he wanted done only that it would involve bandits and could have a good reward for those interested. Liam already had his reward technically in the form of his wife's smiling face when she got her prized ivory hairbrush and a bolt of wool she really wanted, so he figured the reward part was more for the others. The serving girl, a black haired and somewhat dark skinned young woman with a bosom pushed up to look ample, came by to refill Joseph's mug of ale. Liam had one for himself that was half empty. He didn't like to drink when he was working. Foggy minds lead to death. He just leaned there in his leather jacket covering his mostly leather with some metal plate armor. His sword and dagger were on his hips and a pair of leather gloves with metal over the back of his hands and wrists was on his hands. A pair of sturdy boots lacking any metal was on his feet. He certainly was looking the part of a sellsword right now even if he wasn't entirely feeling it. Perhaps one day soon he could wear clothes and do trade rather than wear armor and sell his life out to make money.