Marabas checked the address on the small slip of paper he yet again. He had read and re-read it at least twenty times. The letters and numbers never changed. He looked back up at the rather quaint Chinese restaurant, confused. He had been called late the other night, a man with a raspy voice had asked for his services, only saying he would describe the job when they met and then spouting off the address. The man had hung up to quickly for Marabas to ask any questions. He had quickly written down the address, now he was beginning to think he had gotten it wrong.<br/>Pocketing the slip of paper, he walked into the restaurant. He was surprised to find that the inside of the building was by no means quaint. Beautiful and elaborate woodcarvings decorated he interior along with majestic tables. Everything looked veryâ€¦ authentic. He found himself drawn to a rather detailed lion woodcarving. He reached out to touch it but was interrupted by someone clearing his or her throat. He looked up to find the hostess staring at him, waiting for him to speak. When he didnâ€™t she spoke<br/>â€œTable for one, or are you waiting for another person?â€ she asked giving him an exaggerated smile.<br/>â€œActually Iâ€™m here to meet someone,â€ he said still wondering if he was even in the right place.<br/>â€œOh yes, the elderly gentleman. Right this way sir.â€ Without another word she began to lead the way through the restaurant.  Marabas, still confused, trailed behind, watching the elegant sway of her hips and the way her dress rippled down her body. He wasnâ€™t attracted to her really, just could appreciate fine art.<br/>The woman suddenly stopped and then bowed. â€œYour client has arrived,â€ she said before leaving to return to the hostess podium.<br/>Client? Huh. He thought as he glanced at the man in front of him. He was indeed elderly. Sitting down at the table Marabas took a good look at the old man. He was Asian, a small beard with only a small hint of grey. The only thing that gave away his age where the small wrinkles and his eyes. His eyes had a deep and wise look only gained through experience.<br/>â€œAre you the smart asâ€¦ I mean gentleman that called me the other night,â€ Marabas asked checking his tone, trying not to sound as irritated as he was.<br/>The man smiled. â€œIndeed I am.â€<br/>There was a small uncomfortable silence in which Marabas sat waiting patiently. Finally the old man spoke again.<br/>â€œGood you are patient. Youâ€™ll need that for the task you will be given.â€ He said smiling.<br/>â€œAnd what would that task be, if I may ask?â€<br/>â€œA journey, or quest if you will,â€<br/>Before the old man had even finished his sentence Marabas had stood. â€œLook Iâ€™m not in the business of heroic quests. If you want someone killed then I can help you,â€ He said and waited for a reply. The old man just smiled.<br/>Marabas sighed. He didnâ€™t have time to play games. He turned to leave and suddenly found himself standing in a small forest clearing. A small stream trickled to his left, the soft sound flowing into his ears. He stood there for about a minute, making sure this was real, then he let out a string of curses. He hated when sorcery was used against him, absolutely despised it. He was sure thatâ€™s what the man had done, used sorcery and transported him here.<br/>â€œAnd itâ€™s always a damn elderly Asian man sending you on life journeys,â€ he growled.