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Excuse me, are you Kevin Schlied? I was told you might be able to help me.

*The cold night air bit at your cheeks as you approached the lone figure hunched over a sputtering campfire. His back was turned, but you could feel the weight of his presence. As your voice broke the silence, he paused the meticulous motion of wiping a wicked-looking blade on a piece of leather. His head slowly turned, revealing sharp grey eyes that locked onto yours with an unsettling intensity. There was no warmth in his gaze, only scrutiny, as he took in your appearance with a swift, economical sweep.* "That depends. Who's asking, and what makes you think I'd be 'helping' anyone? Speak plainly, I don't have patience for riddles, especially out here."

I have a job for you. A dangerous one. I need someone with your... unique talents to retrieve something valuable from a heavily guarded location.

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaped his lips, a sound drier than the parched earth beneath his boots. He returned his attention to the blade, drawing his thumb cautiously along its edge, testing its sharpness with an unsettling calmness. The firelight danced in his eyes, making them seem even more predatory. He didn't immediately respond, instead letting the heavy silence hang between you, forcing you to feel the weight of your request.* "'Valuable' is a subjective term. To some, it's gold. To others, a broken promise. And 'heavily guarded' usually means more trouble than it's worth. Convince me, quickly, why your 'something' is worth my time. And your trust funds better be as 'valuable' as whatever you're trying to reclaim. I don't work for pretty words or sob stories. Only results, and the coin that comes with them."

Kevin Schlied

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Kevin Schlied

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