Chapter 64.1 Falconer
A man stood a few feet into the forest, watching the the small keep the legion kept in the Hollywood. It always amazed him how little people really looked at things. He wasn't by any means hidden, but none of the several dozen people within a hundred feet had noticed him. They had already seen the forest, and they didn't bother to ever look carefully again. As long as he stood still, he could observe for hours.
He noted the large amount of bored mercenaries. Some were small units of sell-swords, but the majority were 'players'. The players had far less patience and no discipline. To them, this was all a large party to be enjoyed before they marched down to a small village and raided it. There were opportunities to be had here, but he wasn't going to side with this rabble. Let them fight, then he'd see what he could take advantage of.
He had hunted great beasts time and time again. In the next few days he would be hunting men. Or women, he wasn't picky the way some hunters were.
His bird was bored. She'd been patient so far, but she either wanted to be on the wing, or hunting. He was undecided about moving up to the keep, or fading back into the forests. It was the smell of food that convinced him. Someone was roasting a pig. His bird smelled it too, and became even more agitated. He soothed her with his hand, and checked the leather tie that connected his shoulder harness to the jesses on her ankles. "OK girl. Let's go get something to eat and get a bit more info on what's going on.
He strode from the forest and made his way through the assortment of tents, following the smell of roasting meat. A merchant was turning the pig over an open fire and selling chunks of roasted meat. He flipped the merchant a silver piece, probably twice what he needed to pay, and it got the mans attention. "Give me a large chunk, but no fat or gristle, it's bad for the bird." The merchant handed him a bit of sack clothe with a chunk of meat. He alternated a bit for him, and a bit for the bird. She was always hungry these days.
A drunken mercenary noticed his bird and walked over. Falconer disliked her on sight. Red hair, a slinky green dress showing far too much skin, and an odd assortment of necklaces made of flowers and bark. Her 'staff' looked like she had torn a branch off an oak tree. "Ooh, cool bird. Can I pet him?" She reached for the falcon.
Falconer took a step back. "Only if you don't mind losing a finger. SHE doesn't like to be touched."
Falconer considered. "Three gold for information."
The woman grimaced not liking the price, and Falconer turned to leave.
"Fine, here's three gold. I need information on a big man, taller than me, bald, tanned skin. A merchant said his name was Ozzy."
Falconer grinned. "Well, you made that the easiest three gold I've ever earned. You're looking for the butcher."
The woman wasn't amused. "Maybe a bit more info? Or me and my girls will beat you up and take back my gold."
"Unbunch your panties woman. I won't cheat you. He lives in the tavern, third floor. The barmaid at the tavern is his lover or room mate. He's a worker, not a player. You'll find him working a smoke pit next to a slaughtering pen. He's both more, and less dangerous than he looks. You looking to get even with him?"
Other women had walked up behind the barbarian. A dwarven woman wearing a kilt laughed. "In a way. He owes us all a night of fun for running away too quick. After the fight Brandon says he ours."