Morning of 78 Fall 516
Clyde let out a sigh as he waited. Normally he wasn't a patient man, though through training and meditation he'd learned some aspect of the quality.
Still, he didn't enjoy waiting, preferring to find something or other to do than to sit about and do nothing. In this case it was his own fault, as he had shown up early, something he also had a habit of doing. After a few cleansing deep breaths followed by slow exhales, he felt the tension slowly leaking out of his body. In his minds eye he focused on an image of a candle burning in darkness, an image he called upon more out of a sense of nostalgia than an actual need for the mental focus.
Only a day or so ago he'd heard from a source about a possible person to look into. A possible person of use to the Stryfe. A possible person of use to Clyde. Or perhaps both. So he'd gotten a few brief fragments of information about what he did, and sent a note requesting a job in the man's trade- mercenary work. He'd simply signed it Clyde, not going into more detail or revealing himself and cloaking himself in the somewhat common single name. He'd never met the man, nor he Clyde, so he had no reason to know who he was.
He'd settled upon a portion of himself that fit the needed exchange, not an outright lie or deception but more a case of omission. As he'd ridden the ferry to the lakeshore he'd thought on himself, his actions and personality, how he acted. Taking away the magic, the power, the reality to back up who he was, and what was he left with?
A crazy person more or less in less generous terms. Perhaps an eccentric or odd fellow in more kind ones.
It was an act that was perhaps less than an act and at the same time more after some of the things Clyde had experienced and lived through.
His note had simply stated he needed an escort a ways out of Ravok proper, a short expedition or trip into the wilds no more than a days trek, and to look for the man with the blue staff.
In exchange he'd pay 50 gm to guarantee his safety there and back, letting the merc gather the needed supplies as he saw fit and figure out his own costs to do so.
In truth it was a test. A test to see how he prepared, how he acted, what he did, and any other number of things.
What he'd find Clyde wasn't sure, standing a short way off the trail from the trading post and ferry landing, just far enough to be out of the way but still easily from the trail.
He wore his more simple clothes, a pack on his back with his camping gear, and Cha in his hand. The blue wooden staff was perhaps distinctive, but Clyde wouldn't be parted from it, and he doubted it was well enough known by random citizens of the city.
Letting out another breath Clyde waited, stroking his hand along the wood of Cha, watching people head along the trail one by one.
It was early enough that traffic was light, a few hunters and other such people heading out of the city, but few enough besides that.