Vaenier De' Lauren his wrist waiting for the bartender's decision. "Okay, I'll let you use the private room, on the condition that you do not disturb the other guests."<br/><br/>"Splendid." Vaenier said happily ad he dropped a small sack of silver coins on the bar and left.Â<br/><br/>******<br/><br/>The target was a man in his late forties, already with streaks of grey within his hair. Vaenier knew that the target kept a hidden weapon of some sort beneath his sleeves, had a family with no children. Yet, that did not stop him from covering the man's head in the "sleep-bag" where a concoction of herbs induced an artificial sleep on the one who is breathing its fumes in. The man fell limp in the alley, instinct kicked in and Vaenier held the body up, barely.Â<br/><br/>Vaenier nodded and two more men, ones who seemed to have more muscle than brain dropped him into a black coffin and began to carry it to the inn.Â<br/><br/>Vrael was too engrossed in the operation that he barely hear the bartender said, "A funeral in my inn? Oh, yippie." Then the door was closed and barred with a chair propped on its two legs.Â<br/><br/>Vaenier opened the coffin, allowing the two men to place the body in a lying-sitting position in another chair. He lifted up the sleeves and detached a spring-loaded knife from the man's arm before ripping the black bag off the man's head.Â<br/><br/>Vaenier allowed the man a few seconds of grace to gather his wits, also because he decided to shift the coffin lid onto the table before the man before sitting opposite him.Â<br/><br/>"So, Mister Bromswell, how did it go?" Vaenier tapped his chin, laughing mentally.Â<br/><br/>"How did what go?" Bromswell blinked at the elf before him.Â<br/><br/>"You know... The revival ritual of the Devourer." Vaenier tapped his finger on the table.Â<br/><br/>"I have no idea what are you talking about." He pressed a hand onto the coffin lid and craned his neck furiously, "Can you let me-" He screamed as Vaenier pinned his hand into the coffin lid with a dagger.Â<br/><br/>"Are you ready to talk? The owner of this place asked me to keep it down but if you do not start talking, we'll need to... stop you from making noise understand?"<br/><br/>"I said I don't know what are you-"<br/><br/>"Knife." Vaenier beckoned, and caught a single serrated knife as it was tossed to him. He pressed the knife into Bromswell's arm, cutting deeply, not enough to kill him, but to provide more than enough pain. The man screamed.Â<br/><br/>Vaenier sat it out, staring silently at the man. When the screaming ceased he asked again, "Talking? Or not? Trust me when I say I can make you take all day to bleed out."<br/><br/>"Ok... I- I'll talk. Just... Just give me a moment."Â<br/><br/>******<br/><br/>Vaenier folded his arms, so indeed it was true that the Devourer was revived. It was an age-old creature which had an insatiable appetite. And it preferred sentient creatures. The topic had interested him a great deal even though it was for a client.Â<br/><br/>"So you are saying that the Devourer did not allow you to see his form?"<br/><br/>"She. It was a she. As of its present location, I don't know where." His pallid face grew even paler as he saw Vaenier bring the knife out again, spinning it with a century's worth of experience. "Look. I. Don't. Know. I told you everything I know."<br/><br/>"Right. Which means," The elf nodded at the two men, who grabbed Bromswell by the shoulders, "You have outlived your usefulness." Vaenier brought the knife to the frightened man's throat and pressed, not cutting the flesh. As the old man prepared for the end, Vaenier whipped the knife up and smashed the handle into the man's temple, knocking him out. "Let's go." With a swish of the cloak, he was gone.Â<br/><br/>******<br/><br/>[Devourer: A semi-mythical beast which was slain two centuries ago. No one with any decent amount of knowledge exists with living memory.]