“So, what kind of reward are we talking about here?” Cecile looked over at the overly focused wizard, Vern, who was reading his spellbook by the fire and tossed a piece of bread at him. He ignored her and continued reading.
“A nice reward more than likely. Maybe even enough gold to get that dagger you’ve been obsessing over.”
Sitting next to Vern was a lumbering man with too many muscles and a scraggly foam covered beard. He put his feet up on the table where the groups gear sat spilled out before them amongst half empty mugs of ale and plates of the cheapest food on the menu.
“I don’t know. I’m kind of enjoying the break. Besides, I might be able to find another way to get that dagger.” A coy expression crossed Cecile’s face.
“You mean steal it.” Gabbard glared at her from across the table as he gulped down some more ale and wiped his beard.
“I never said that! I simply meant acquire the dagger.” She scanned the room with her eyes, grinning when she spotted a wealthy looking patron.
Vern closed his book and flicked away the piece of bread that had landed on his lap. The fire was beginning to grow dim and he looked around to see if anyone was watching and gently waved his hand under the table. The fire suddenly roared again and he smile under his hood. The heat was comforting and their travels were making his bones a bit weary. He looked down at his feet and noticed his boots could use a proper stitching.
“I could use the gold.” He said as he glanced at Gabbard.
“See, he has the right idea! It’s not like you to turn down gold Cecile.” Gabbard let out a loud burp as he leaned in towards her, grinning.
“Gross! Your breath smells like century old stew.” She plugged her nose in disgust.
“Why don’t I just go take care of it? It shouldn’t take me too long.” Vern stood up and gathered together his scrolls and books, placing them meticulously into his bag.
“Hey now! What’re you saying? Not without me.” Gabbard stood up, knocking over a chair and clamoring to put on his armor, “I can handle this so called bounty too! There’s nothing that Gabbard can’t take on, especially when he’s had ale!”
“Gabbard, calm down; and why do you always talk in the third person?” Cecile whispered under her breath as the innkeeper glared over at them, she smiled and waved politely.
“Fine fine, we’ll go do the job. Not like we got anything better to do, right?” She put her bag on and made sure her dagger was fastened tightly in place. She grumbled to herself as she helped Gabbard drunkenly put on his gear. He stumbled lazily beside them singing songs loudly as Vern quickly walked ahead of them in embarrassment.
“You know, you’re pretty for a small woman. Though I’m not sure you could bear a child of mine. Not enough meat on your bones!” Gabbard tried to put his arm around Cecile’s waist.
“Yeah yeah, so you keep saying.” She slowly removed his arm from her waist as he frowned in disapproval. Eventually they both caught up to Vern who was staring at a billboard near the inn with a disheartening look.
“Let’s see.” He pulled a half stained scroll down, sighing as he read it quietly and folded it up.
“Rats?” Cecile asked as she raised an eyebrow inquisitively.


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