Thomas was enjoying ale at a tavern close to his Smith's shop. It was a dark place filled with smoke from either the clogged chimney or the customers; no one could tell, but this was normal around dusk.
The local farmers, fishermen, and merchants gathered here to talk and drink. Thomas was alone, for he enjoyed being alone with his thoughts...and his drink. He was relatively close to the bar but his was the only table not packed. All of his friends were tied up and the common villagers thought of Thomas as nice, but they didn't feel the need to make friends with him.
He didn't mind though. He restored that pigheaded barons wife's extremely expensive silver heirloom... secretly of course. A sadistic smile spread across his face as he remembered that fat man begging him to fix it after he broke it. Thomas had agreed reluctantly; he's a wise man and knows secrecy and service yield good coin. The baron was just as wise and extremely nice so it surprised people when they found Thomas disliked him. No one knows why, not even Thomas.
He was distinguished from the common folk sitting near; his clothes were fine made of expensive, clean, fine cotton material; his brown hair was clean and well kept, as was the goatee on his unscarred face. The sword at his side had a steel cross piece and a handle with a silver design, with a straight blade of the same fashion. He was great with the weapon but his truly noteworthy skill lay in the cross bow leaning against his chair. It, on the other hand, was unadorned, but the bolts had tips of a steel and silver mix. He almost tipped over in his daze but regained his composure in the nick of time.
The joyful clank of coins brought him back to the present. He looked up as a man walked in, but this man was far from a farm hand. He was dressed in brown leather armor from his shoulders down with a belt full of pouches and another one around his shoulder. At his side hung a leather hood. Thomas had a good sense for people and this man required attention.
He walked out of the shadow of the doorway and Thomas saw the unmistakable gleam of a black and silver axe head. He looked closer and saw the curved bow slung over his shoulder and a bushel of arrows protruding from the other, both matching the axe's color scheme. He walked over to the inn keeper, ordered coffee with a spoon of honey, and sat across the table from Thomas.
"You Thomas, the silversmith?" He asked.
"Aye, that'd be me, but who are you?" Thomas replied.
A wolfish grin spread across the man's face, revealing perfect teeth that were almost fang-like. "You can call me Adek." Seeing the look on Thomas's face, he continued. "It's Valinsine. I left home as a lad and traveled here to Arulen."
"I see," said Thomas. "But what does it mean?"
"Noble Wolf."
Thomas looked at those unnerving teeth and fear spread over him for no apparent reason. "What do you want?" He spat, trying to get this man on his way.
"Well, I was wondering if you could hand over that gold," replied Adek.
Thomas unconsciously reached to protect his coins, but found nothing. He continued to grope for the purse that wasn't there. He looked up in shock to see the purse sitting across the table, although it was suppose to be in his pocket.
His hand shot across the table like a snake to retrieve it, but a sharp pain made him recoil as Adek's axe nicked his finger, the blade biting deep into the table.
