It took some time of silent watching and tracking of citizens for the figure to find a few places where large wagons could be rented or bought. The first two led no where, so this last one had to be it.
The building was in an out of the way place, but strangely well lit for the area. The figure frowned behind it's mask. It would be tricky but not entirely impossible.
Eying the streetlamps nearby, the figure moved and pulled a bow from it's back along with one arrow, a strip of cloth, and a small vial. Carefully wrapping the cloth around the arrow tip, the figure opened the vial and poured its contents on the cloth. Moving quickly, the vial was forgotten and the arrow was nocked and let loose.
Its mark true, it sailed over the group of candles in the streetlamp, the arrow whipping against the wicks .... putting the light out. The arrow bounced off the stone wall behind it, but the figure was already moving, grabbing the arrow before it lay on the ground.
~~~~~~~~
A small beam of dim light began to grow upon the wooden floor of the structure as the figure pushed open the door slightly, just enough for it to slip inside. The door was closed again ... strange it was not originally locked.
Adjusting it's vision to the light change, the figure paused a moment before moving purposefully towards a small hut structure built nearby. From the other two places it had been, the figure surmised the papers to find had to be in there.
Carefully flipping through some stacks left on a table, and a few in a box, the paper was found. Lighting a nearby lantern, the figure gazed down at the ink writing. Four wagons .... given by the mayor .... paid in full .... Rohan.
The figure put out the lantern and set the paper back in its place. Rohan? So that man Brennick was telling the truth. Thoughts were cut short as sounds came from nearby, the light of a lantern creeping down a wall, the shadow of a weapon seen. Quickly the figure slipped from the hut and out the door into the darkness of the night.
But it found out what it wanted.
