Chapter I-IIIMature

THe two would-be bounty hunters were led to a regal office in the village's largest building. The Avren family manor dwarfed even the small keep of the governor.

Walker knew a few things about politics, a nessesary skill for his job. The Avren were one of the empire's most loyal clan. Despite being composed of high elves or Dorethirs as they called themselves, they sided with the humans rather than the dominion. Blood and money poured around these elven aristocrats.

"Please, come in" Said the master of the house, a tall blond man in ornate robes. His hair were graying at the temple, a sign of old age. He was most likely in his third century, which was bad news.

As Elves aged, they suffered from degeneration, every kind of elves devolved differently. Dorethirs, were probably the worse, becoming outright sociopathic by the time they reached middle age.

"We're here about the job." Walker claimed, going strait to the point so he would spend as little time as he could there.

"I know." The elf said as he walked toward Malkav "It is a pleasure to encounter another Vanir in these country." he continued.

"A souless pupetter that makes the world dance at his whim. False impression of nobility, feeling of superiority. I am Malkav. Pleased to meet you."

The noble threw him a thousand mile stare before catching himself up. "I have heard of the Orelir's gifts. It is a great honor to see the proof of their existance."

"Back to buiness." The high elf began. "I need you two to kick out a squatter from the tomb of my ancestors. You see it is quite a humiliating ordeal. And I dislike losing face. If you do that and survive, I will pay you."

"How much?" The rogue asked.

"fourthy gold pieces."

"We'll need equipment to do it. Add a twenty and paid in advance for the material." He haggled.

"Why should I pay you more?" The noble asked offended and deeply irritated.

"Because we're the only guys here that could help. And beside, you don't want to lose face even more by letting the tombs of your ancestors desecrated because of your own personal greed do you?"

The Dorethir snarled something spiteful in Elvish. Walker couldn't understand, but his companion could. Malkav repressed a smile as he and his partner left.

"We'll be at the tavern. Send someone with the money once you've come to your senses." The nightwalker threw at the noble.

The End

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