First Target: The Unbeliever

[Godhand]

Godhand tore a chunk of flesh off of the drumstick, happily slurping up the juice. God, it was delicious; the meat practically melted off of the bone. He would have been able to eat it with a spoon. The village girls crowded around him, eagerly refilling his cup even after he took only a small sip of ale or swooping down to dab at his chin with a cloth whenever it got too messy. The mercenary wasn't usually a messy eater but this wasn't the sort of thing you ate with a fork and knife; when someone laid a whole bird out in front of you you were expected to dig in. An elderly man sat in front of him with his hands clasped together, gazing at the mobster with what could only be described as pure and unbridled hope. He was the town's head. They'd all seen him go to work on Anderson's guards, and he figured this was supposed to be some sort of reward. It wasn't that hard, anyway. It was a small settlement so only about twenty men had been assigned to guard it. Finally, the mayor or whatever he was spoke.

"Tell me, great warrior, are you here to save Raiaeara from the scourge Xem'Zund?"

Godhand swallowed noisily before slipping a hand into his jacket and producing a sheet of paper, pushing it over to the mayor before resuming his meal.

"I don't know. Is he on that list?"

The elderly man hurriedly fumbled with his spectactles before eagerly reading the mobster's hit list. The whole of the town crowded around him, trying to get a look at it over his shoulder. He suddenly went very pale and tremblingly pushed it back towards Godhand, who plucked it up and slipped it back in his pocket.

"Sir, you can't truly mean to fight the Necrisition! They're monsters!"

A murmur shot through the gathered crowd. Godhand snorted, not in any derisive manner but merely to clear his sinuses after such a meal, and began to wipe his hands on a nearby cloth.

"Yeah, well..." He swallowed a burp, "I'm bigger."

There was a quiet giggle from one of the girls, but the elder quickly shot her a withering glare.

"Warrior, you musn't-"

"No, c'mon, shut up. Don't ruin a meal like that with predictions of doom. Listen, I'm looking to start with the guy on top. The mage killer. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find him?"

"I do!"

Another one of the girls in the crowd piped up. Another glare from the elder. He cleared his throat, uttered a brief prayer, then addressed Godhand.

"Our 'lord' Maxwell lives in a castle nearby. It's the ransacked remains of our true patron's keep. I'll have the town's cartographer make you a map. But please, be careful!"