Come, claim your price | Agatha

,,Fifteen coins for the black one." A small pouch filled with some golden coins was thrown on the unstable, wooden table. The man who threw it had a grin around his lips. He had been one of the few who had put his bet onto the tanned fighter, down in the pit. Simply because of the fact it was unusual, Rinzler chose to do it. Somehow he always liked the stories of the underdogs. The underestimated humans. There was no more glory than proving people wrong. And he hoped, with all of his heart ánd his money, that this fighter would prove these ignorant people wrong. Sure, he liked the stories but there was also business. Oh, imagine all the money he would win with that. All the weapons he could buy, and all the kills he could make with it. A match made in heaven! His eyes travaled towards the pit, a number of levels below him. Two fighters stood at their own side of the sandy field, busy raising the audience. Each of them trying to gain more fans. It worked though. With each cheer the crowd went crazy. Some opponents yelled furiously, while others got all hyped up. Several liquids and food flew through the air. Here and there emerged little fights between drunken men disagreeing with each other. Rinzler grinned softly, amused by all the commotion. And the fight wasn't even started yet. Yét, it would soon.
All of a sudden his inner alarmbells rang. He felt a few eyes staring at him. He felt it, even though it was extremely crowded. It was an uncomfortable feeling, as if it was telling him to move. To get the hell away from there. Because of all these people it was impossible for him to find that perticuliar source. Which annoyed him to death. He wanted to find out who, or what it was. Wanted to understand why it made him feel that way. Had it been a false alarm? Or did he really had to hare away? Anyway, just standing there was no option anymore. Quickly his feet started to move, away from the gambling table. A smart man would've stayed among the crowd. An even smarter man would try to find out what was following him. In order to achieve such a thing, he walked away from the stands. He didn't looked back or made clear he was on the run for something. No, he just walked very calmly, like any man would do. The more he moved towards hallways, the quieter it became. All of the people were up there, impaitiently waiting for the fight to start. If someone was following him, he or she had no more cover down here. At the end of the hallway Rinzler stopped and turned, facing the entry. His hand layed on his daggar. A shadow moved across the stone walls. An echo of footsteps filled the area. The look on his face got dark. Who had the balls to confront him?

If she had had a choice, she wouldn’t have been here. It was incredibly crowded and the stench of sweat and alcohol hung in the air; all oh so typical for a fighting pit. The reason Agatha was sitting amongst the crowd, wearing a large cloak, scarf and hood in order to hide her feminine face and features, was because an informant had let the local sheriff’s department know a notorious hitman would be present at this fight. Luckily Agatha had just arrived in Sundarin when the news had come in, but she was less lucky with the understaffed precinct. Somehow she was the only one who was able to come here to take a chance at catching this criminal. It was stupid, and she felt stupid for being here alone, but at least she was able to not attract any attention by pretending to be a young nomad man.

From her place somewhere higher on the tribunes she was able to see everyone who came in. Some looked more shady than others, but right now there was one specific man Agatha was looking for. She had never seen the man who was known as Rinzler, but she kept the descriptions she had of him in the back of her mind. There were quite a few men who looked like they could be him, but one in particular caught the sheriff’s interest. Her eyes followed him as he entered the crowded area and placed a bet at the gambling table. From where Agatha was sitting she had a decent view of the man and she went over her mental checklist: A young man no older than 25 years, about 1,85 meters tall, dark blonde hair, a muscular body... From this angle she couldn’t see if he had any tattoos, but this man could very well be the one she was looking for. What made this even more likely was that all of a sudden, the man walked away from the stands and the crowd. He couldn’t have lost his interest this soon, especially since he would be guaranteed to lose the gold coins he had used to bet. No one would just walk away from that. Had he noticed he was being followed? If that was the case, two things could happen now. Either he knew someone was watching him and he had fled the fighting pit, never to return, or he would come back if no-one followed him. Not knowing how much the man knew, Agatha wasn’t willing to take the risk of letting him get away and thus she carefully moved through the crowd and to the hallways where the man had gone.

Knowing that this could very well lead to a confrontation, Agatha checked her options. As she walked out of the crowd and into the hallways, she checked the items on her belt that were hidden by her over-sized cloak. Crossbow, check. Daggers, check. Pouches of plant seeds, check. Handcuffs, check. With this arsenal she had a chance to take him in. Or not. She would find out in due time. And indeed, as soon as she turned a corner, she saw the man standing at the end of the hallway. She took a few more steps and then stopped at a safe, good distance away from the man, leaving an empty space of at least five meters in between them. Short-range weapons would be of no use. "You’re missing the fight," she said, deliberately lowering and cracking her voice to mimic the voice of a young man. She was still keeping up that role, after all – and with the long cloak covering her whole body, the hood over her head and the scarf over the lower part of her face it had a chance of tricking those who didn’t know what to look for.