"Don't try your luck," Ayen mumbled to the scratched surface of the bar. He had been sitting there for hours now, pouting about the money stolen from his waist. The bartender was kind enough to leave him be. Or perhaps he had scared her off with the scowl he'd given her the first time she approached. At least she had fetched him a drink. Though, it tasted of something foul. Such was the way of human liquer. It was brewed quickly and cheaply. The intention was to get drunk or to take the edge off more than it was to enjoy and on a night like this that was just fine with Ayen.

A man plopped down on the stool beside him, a human by the looks of him. Why the sight of humans still startled him he didn’t know. He had been living in the human kingdom of Brunid for years now. He knew what a human looked like. At least, he thought he did until he was looking at one.

"Something strong for me, Ria," he called to the bartender. His voice was gruffy and it rumbled in his chest.

The bartender scoffed. "Strong is all we've got, Jaxson."

"Yeah well," he grumbled. "Serve it up quick." He rested his arms on the counter top. His leather braces were woefully frayed.

Ria thunked a heavy glass down on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. "What's troubling you, Jaxon Wisell?"

"It's that damned Angel,” he grumbled into his glass before taking a deep drink.

Ria whistled. "You're after the bounty? Good way to get your head divorced from your neck if you know what I mean." Her hands went to her wide hips and she eyed with more interest than before.

"I ain't no lightweight street brawler,” he scoffed. “Used to be a soldier. You'd think I oughta know how to put down a common thug."

Ayen turned his head and looked the man over more carefully. Maybe he was bored. More likely he was a glutton for punishment. "You don't look like much," he said.

The man turned to him. His face was all scars except for what his scraggly beard covered. His eyes narrowed to slits. "What did you say to me, twig-boy?"

Ayen snorted. "Well, nothing derogatory but if that's how your mother raised you I can spar with the best of you shit pails."

The man snarled, hauling Ayen up by his shirt. He tossed him aside and into a table. It toppled over taking Ayen with it. He was quick to get up, charging at the man and knocking him back against the bar. He was easily twice his size, but that didn’t stop Ayen from gritting his teeth and staring him down.

"There's no fighting in my bar," Ria yelled. "Tillie, get them outta here!"

Ayen took a fist to his jaw and gave one just as good right into the man's eye. Then giant hands pulled the two apart. Ayen looked up into the face of a half-orc. Tillie had round yellow eyes and a square jaw.. She was two heads taller than Ayen and twice as wide as him, too. With ease, she carried them both outside and dumped them in the dirt like yesterday’s garbage.

"Come back tomorrow and pay your tabs or Tillie will find you," she growled. All of the fight left Ayen at that. There was no wrestling with a half-orc. Not if you had any sense and Ayen had just enough sense in him left.. His fighting partner seemed to have the same idea as he dusted himself off and walked away without looking back.

Ayen sighed to himself and headed down the road. He was used to pocketing more than enough for a room, but the inns cost much more here in West Catoig and he didn't have a dime on him. So, he carried on down the road hoping to pass someone drunk and passed out and very unlucky. If worse came to worse, he’d be back to sleeping in the moss under the trees to the east of town. He had bed roll and a tent, but the tent was on its last leg and the nights were chilly here.

Walking past the inn, the noticeboard outside caught his eye. It was positively bursting with advertisements.  Ayen stopped to give it a look. Perhaps he could find honest work here. Parlin Town had given him no luck in that department, but just maybe West Catoig was the place for him. Not that he would give him stealing. It certainly amused to make the wealthy a little less so.

The bulletin offered jobs for nurses, maids, and farm hands. The most prominent of notices, though, was a drawing of a man. He was gorgeous with a strong nose and a sarcastic mouth. "WANTED", it read all in bold. "Waylon 'The Angel' Wood". Dead or alive, it also said. Though, the fee for alive was twice as much.

"A murderer and a thief," Ayen mused. "Sounds like my kind of man."

West Catoig was, quite fortunately, a large city. Which meant that Ayen could spend the rest of the night asking about ‘The Angel’ in every bar, tavern, and pub. The stories were all the same. He's gorgeous with enchanting blue eyes and waist length hair made of moonbeams. He's quick and silent as a ghost. He's been wanted by the city guard for three years and the reward keeps getting higher and higher as more money goes missing and more bodies are dropped. There was no pattern to his kills except that they’re rich and no one knows where he sleeps or with whom.

Despite the lack of information, Ayen picked up his trail.

The Angel had been spotted on the north side of town in the outskirts of the Greeley district. The Greeley district was, of course, where the wealthiest of folk lived. All he had to do was determine his next target. With enough information, it wasn't hard to guess. They said Lady Farow was itching to inherit her husband’s estate after all.

Ayen climbed up to a rooftop where he could stake out his best guess. He found himself a somewhat comfortable place to rest and he watched the house across the street. Before long, all of the lights went out and the streets grew silent. Then Ayen saw a shadow leap from one balcony to the next. Moonlight gleamed off of flowing, near white, hair. The elf smiled to himself. He was going to be rich.

He made his way across rooftops and dropped down onto the same balcony where he had first spotted The Angel. With light feet, he crept through the open door and into the room. It was an office, crammed with bookshelves. A large desk sat at its center all covered in papers. Ayen walked around it, sneaking up behind the man in the next doorway. He should have known better.

The Angel whirled around, a flurry of white hair blinded him and he was shoved backward by a strong hand. His back was already sore from the earlier fight and the wind was knocked out of him as he hit the desk. Metal glinted as it passed in front of the window and Ayen reached out just in time to catch Waylon's arm.

"Who are you?" the man spoke softly. His breath was warm against his face. His weight pressed him back against the desk.

Ayen looked up into eyes so beautiful they stopped his heart, but he was no stranger to beautiful faces. In fact, after the incident the day before he wasn’t fond of them. "I'm the one who's going to bring you to justice." He grinned.

"Not likely." Waylon arched a thin eyebrow. "But this is the longest anyone has gone without dying after looking me in the eye so consider this alone a victory."

"I hope you don't count your bed partners among that number."

Waylon chuckled. "If you survive this encounter, you might find out."

"When I survive, you will unfortunately be unable to make good on that offer."

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes, the city guard has a cell with your name on it." With no small amount of effort, Ayen pushed Waylon off of him. They both stood, poised to strike. Waylon was calm, his demeanor lethal. There was no hesitation or doubt in him. He could leave Ayen dead on the floor and find no trouble sleeping at night.

Eyes wandered over him. "You don't look like a bounty hunter," Waylon commented. It was almost funny coming from him. He hardly looked like an assassin. In fact, there wasn’t a scar or blemish on his moon pale skin. Ayen might have believed that he was a ghost or a vampire or someone’s kept boy, lovely as he was.

"Looks can be deceiving. Can't they, Angel?"

Waylon smiled at him. “I’m curious to know how you found me. So many have tried. No one ever gets close unless I want them to.”

“With these ears, I could hear you above even the din of the foundry,” he teased.

"Then I expect we’ll meet again, bounty hunter." He winked and in the moment Ayen was too disarmed to move in time. Waylon darted into the room behind him and pushed open the window. Before Ayen could reach him, he jumped.

When Ayen reached the window, Waylon was already gone.