The young hunter smiled as he enter the tavern, the Prancing Pony. He made his way to the counter, shoving himself past the crowds people. He leaned up on the filthy counter and smiled widely to the Barman known as Butterbur.
"I've got some fresh meats for you, bear to be exact."
The plump man laughed and his cheeks turned rosy as he looked the hunter, pounding the counter with a large hand as he smiled widely.
"Hah! I suppose you'll be wanting payment? Shall we negotiate?"
The hunter smiled, the warbraid dangling from the side of his face. The smell around him was horrid, as if he had just skinned something rather foul. He leaned upon his elbows as he stared at the man with lofted brows.
"I don't negotiate prices, you simply pay me or I walk. There really is no discussion about it my friend."
Cynraede had a wicked, twisted look about his face as he smiled widely, enjoying watching the mans face. The young hunter slowly tapped the counter with his pointer finger, growing impatient.
"Fine, fine. What, fifty silver for the lot? Its bear, not deer or boar. It will take me awhile to get that taste out of the meat."
Cynraede laughed, and start to turn away from the counter, walking to the door. No sooner did he shove his way back through the crowded tavern, reaching for the door, he heard the mans voice cry out through the usual banter of the Prancing Pony. He could help but smile, turning around slowly as it quickly faded. He stood, raising his brows to the man as he wanted.
"Fine, fine! One hundred silver for the lot.. You north folk cannot bargain or save a man coin.."
Cynraede laughed as he made is way back through and tapped the counter with his finger.
"Up front, you collect the meat at the hunting lodge. Three bear, theres more than just a couple of men could carry. We wouldn't want you spending any extra coin, now would we?"
The two stared at each other for a few moments before the barman tossed a leather pouch at him, slightly taken back as he caught it, hefted it for a moment then nodded.
"That will do fine, good day barman."
He made is way through the crowd, turning his head to the left and seeing his contact. The man sat, his blonde hair loose around his shoulders as he stared at the crowd. He caught the gaze of the hunter, whom leaned against a post and waited for a moment before approaching.
"I did not beckon for you."
Wulfthred said in a low tone, looking at the man with narrowed eyes as he ate his dwarvish cheese. His beard had been trimmed recently, though only showed trace signs of grey, much less than his hair which had seemingly had streaks of grey for quite some time now. His rohirric accent sounding vastly different from the bree-landers that called his place home.
"Choose your words, you do not own me. I am, after all doing this out of the kindness of my heart."
Cynraede pressed his hand to his chest, feigning being hurt by his words. He took a seat, propping his boots up on the opposite in of the table from where he was eating, continuing to look around quietly.
"You, were hired to do a task, boy. I suggest you bear that in mind as you sit at my table. Do you have the hides or not?"
The hunters lips drew in a smile, obviously enjoying the mans frustration as he sat there twisting a braid from his beard.
"That, I do. Three bear hides, fresh from their owners. I do not think one of your.. 'boys' could have accomplished such?"
The man looked to Cynraede, pointing at him with the piece of bluing cheese. his eyes narrowed as he looked at him sternly.
"So what is it you wanted to know. I was told you would not accept coin? What kind of hunter are you? I've heard of you, walking about this town with your traps and bolts. You are no hunter of beast, at least no beast I've seen in these parts."
Cynraede leaned forward, looking to the mans brooch that bore seven stars upon it. He met his narrowed gaze and pressed his pointer finger to the table firmly.
"I was told you are part of an order.. I wish to know about it, that is the payment I will recieve. Information, for the hides."
The mans gaze changed, his brows furled in curiosity and nodded as he dropped the cheese onto the plate and wiped his hands upon a rag. The two leaned forward on the table, Cynraede listened as Wulfthred spoke softly.
"Bring the pelts to Arrowhaven, there will be a manor at the end of Chestnut street. Leave the hides upon the table, you will find your answers there. Only if you ask the right questions."
Wulfthred leaned back, taking a long sip from his ale as he stared at the man who tilted his head. He took a piece of bread and put it in his mouth, chewing softly as he stood and adjusted the two blades that rested across the small of his back. He nodded and made his way to the door without another word.
