"I'm looking for a Mercenary. Big fellow named Gunnar, lots of tattoos, carries an axe..." Maude didn't think there would be a large population of men that would fit the description, but she was either asking the wrong people or the city was much larger than she thought. "I know 'im," said a man hunched over a barrel surrounded by other men presently enthralled with a game of dice, "that codger owes me money he does." Maude gave the man a skeptical look, "Owes you money?" "Tha's right, that fucker lost to me fair and square in a hand of cards and he owes me plenty of coin, he does." "Mm," still hard to believe, but by her knowledge Gunnar didn't like to lose and lived on a Merc's pay. No way this man could physically insist on payment if Gunnar didn't feel obligated to give it, "how much does he owe you?" "Ten gold," the man licked his lips. "And what will you pay me if I get it from him for you?" "I'll give you a good fuck, that's what." Maude's fist met the side of his face before his eyes could travel the height of her figure, he crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Out cold, "Anyone else know where I can find the Mercenary named Gunnar?" The lot of them turned wide eyes upon her, "The bowl," said one of them. "The what?" "The bowl...The Bowl!" he repeated. "Boggart's Bowl," grumbled another man, "the Inn towards the south entrance." ~~~ The Boggart's Bowl Inn Evening An undeniable feeling of deja vu swept over Maude as the woman stepped into the very same Inn from a week prior. All things traveling in circles, coming back upon themselves. Like a cycle of war and peace. Life and death and life again. Words of Eodahl the Wretch. She was, at the very least, feeling fit this time if not somewhat world-weary from her travels. Too much strange news to contemplate, too many things undone. Admittedly the moment she stepped into the inn the smell of food and the sight of giddy men with their ales distracted the woman from her initial goal. Instead of looking for Gunnar, she stepped over to the bar and claimed an open stool, ordering herself an ale and leg of lamb.