---- The path is laid ----
Guided out of the grandiose meeting room and through a narrow corridor, the rag-tag ensemble of cut-throats and sell-swords bustled their way through the usually placid building. A couple of guards, the two who were showing them out, split off to either side allowing them passage. Fine paintings on the walls and polished dark-wood tables adorned with golden ornaments bordered the greeting hall, on the other side of which stood an unnaturally short serf. A man whom tried to give a smile, but failed in his attempts.
"So I trust you all understand." said the aged attendant, his face hung as a tapestry of wrinkles as he hobbled about with a knobby cane. "There is an Inn not far from here, you can all stay there for the night." A musky, strained tone to his voice. As if it even exhausted him to speak.
Waving his hand with what little strength he could muster he began to shun the unwashed guests outside, but not before he quickly grabbed one of them by the hand and stuffed a small envelope into his/her grasp before pushing on the dark wood of the iron studded door, causing the iron handle to clank as it shut. The letter read...
"It is expected of you all to depart in the morning. One of my retainers will meet with you at the Inn that was suggested. He shall give you some gold, to help you on your journey, and supply you all with a horse. Once you are all satisfied, and I trust you will be, he shall pass on what little information we have of the Tome and its holders whereabouts. I would appreciate a swift ending to this task and to your targets life, my Tome must be returned undamaged. and I will not accept failure."
The small concise letter was finished with a wax stamp of the Barons sigil. The sun would soon set , the light was already beginning to drain from the sky. The regular bustle of voices and movement had dwindled in the streets and lamps were being lit, shining through the thick glass windows. Not far from the wooden door that the band of mercenaries were stood, was the Black Bull Inn. Not a very flashy establishment but it had straw beds, food and drink. It would do for the night. It gave the group a small amount of time to get to know each other, measure themselves to one another and to hopefully find the reason to work together.
Upon opening the tavern doors they would be welcomed by warm light and jovial laughter. The barman had the situation previously explained, and fortunately he had experience with the dregs of the underworld before. He didn't expect trouble, he just had to set them up for the night as he was promised they would be leaving at early light. He wasn't in shape, it looked as if he had been poured into his dirty clothes, overflowing from almost every seem. If there was anything he knew though, it was hospitality, "Evening gents and, not so gents. Whata'ya having?"