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They have arrived at the village by now.

Every house had it's windows closed - and those that were still open, were quickly closed by hands of villagers hiding behind them. It was clear that everyone knew who they are and what they're trying to achieve.

In front of the large, two-story building, there was a pegasus, tied to a post and lazily munching on scarce grass around it's feet. After a moment, a young woman went outside - upon spotting the group, she waved at them slowly, her eyes locked at Christopher.

Taki Greenstone is innnn. Valor Inara, Tantallos Forsaken and Seyena Ikane are inside the building.

Heavy droplets started to fall seconds after her speech, and half a minute later, it was raining heavily again.

And so they resumed their trip, passing the plague-ridden town, They could feel the gaze of guards on the walls, even if sometimes the fortifications were obscuring said guards from the view. The feeling passed, of course, after they moved away from the town.

The rain lessened even more, and at one point, it stopped fully. The heavy clouds, however, decided to stay on the skies and look angrily at the mercenaries, as if ready to wash them with rain again.

The surroundings changed a bit - the flat farmlands gave in to small hills and rocky plateau's, the road was trying to go as straight as possible, only sometimes turning to bypass the hills that were too steep.

But the trek through the unfriendly region lasted less than an hour - they could see, at the horizon, a small village; cluster of homesteads and fences, and in middle of that, a large building, presumably the mayor's house, or the local inn, or maybe both.

And just as the mercenaries were on the outskirts of the village, the rain began attacking them again.

I hate when coincidences get mathematical and creepy.

A stranger to me.

The merchant fished out a small, but heavy, club.

"That's 350 coins."

The merchant grimaced after hearing that Adrien was picky about the armaments.

"Bah, fine, I was going to sell it my usual client but... the city is closed, yes... safer to get profit now..." Mumbling, he went back toward the pile of crates, rubbing his large, pudgy hands, eyeing the crates for a moment. Then he grabbed one of them and opened it - inside, on a pile of hay, a curved, slim-looking sword was laying. The edge looked unusually sharp; it was a Shamsir.

"Fine quality steel, forged just a week ago. That blade screams murder, I tell ya." The merchant mumbled. "One thousand gold, and it's yours. Besides that, I don't have anything else."