Slouched and desolate, Mendez orders another brandy. As normal when having a crisis of confidence, he seeks the fastest avenue of escape. His inebriation though will only last so long.
“Excuse me son, but you look a little down on your luck.”
Mendez looks blearily around.
“I’m looking for someone who’s good in a scrap. I’m guessing by the look of you that you can wield that little sword of yours?”
The small, portly man beside him is greying and well past his prime, but has an honest face.
Perhaps this is the way forward? Honest work for an honest wage.
The older man introduces himself as ‘Garris’ and explains to Mendez that he needs someone to guard him and his ‘package’ on a journey to a town along the coast called ‘Redford’.
“I’ll pay you a gold piece a day and you can work for me as long as we both get along.”
Wiping his chin, Mendez agrees and shakes the little man’s hand.
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