Baker stood reading the bulletin board as he normally does when something interesting suddenly caught his eye. "Bob's Free Ale Services?! Hell, I'm all for that!"

Finding a blank piece of paper in a nearby garbage can, Baker began to write his wish list;

-25 kegs of ale-

"That's good for starters." he thought to himself. He looked to the directions again..."make sure the name "Bob" is on it somewhere". He then took his list and folded it up nicely, and started scrolling the name on the back saying the letters aloud," B - O ", a quick look to a passing hottie and he peered back to the list not paying much attention now. " O - B". He smiled at the list once more and dug around in his pocket for a match. "Free Ale, here I come" Baker lit the list on fire and tossed it in the nearest garbage can, strolling away.

A while down the road, he paused to watch the RhyDin Fire Department rush by...

Cadence wandered through the streets of RhyDin ... unknown to most and forgotten along the paths of sewage drains and garbage dumps. Though her stance was straight, the humpish appearance along her back, which was covered by her tattered, blackened excuse for a cloak, gave her small body a disfigured appearance.

Her gaze was caught by this sign. She looked over her very warn out cloak. Even though the weather was getting warmer, there would be nights that it would still get cold. It wouldn't be long before this cloak wouldn't even be worth rags. Her grey robes were starting to get tattered as well. It was getting harder and harder to get a job doing the only thing she knew... cleaning. She simply just didn't look the part. Her only other means was to beg. Some life.

Ale isn't what she wanted. But the sign said, anything you want that isn't alive.

"Anything?" she dared to whisper.

A new cloak is what she needed, desperately. Actually, a job, too, but that might be pushing it. Who were these Nightblades? How could they do so much? She was about to find out....

She found a paper in the trashcan, something with only a word or two etched, then scratched out and wrinkled up from the previous owner throwing it away. She carefully smoothed it out and found a piece of charcoal from some burning pit that had been put out and was cold.

First she made sure the old writing was torn off the page. Then she wrote her own. Her writing was like a child's unpracticed scribble, but it was legible nonetheless. She made sure the name Bob was written on there, addressing the issue to him. Then she lit the page on fire using one of the old time street lamps. In one swift poof it was gone. Whatever the catch was, it was too late to stop it and she was getting too desperate to try...

A heavy sigh escaped and she wondered just how this Bob would or could find her. She had no permanent home, just a makeshift shack of a place near the garbage dump. She'd utilized old crates and boxes to make her a place to sleep in out of the weather.

"Yeah... see ya, Bob.. Nice thought, though."

She really wasn't so sure he'd actually find her.