"So,"

"Yes?"

"Where are you from, boy?" The man asked, stretching back and taking a sip from his glass.

"Right here in Khull Hortum sir, born and raised."

There was a pause, the aging man reclining in his seat took a pause to observe the swirling of the tincture in his hand. Watching the rays of outside light flow in and catch on the ornate glasswork in his hand, seeing the color it produced in the whiskey he was holding.

"Tell me, do you want to die?" he whispered, almost to the glass.

The wind picked up a little, carrying the warm summer sent of the surrounding trees and garden into the private of the bright white marble pavilion.

After a while the man spoke again, "It was a good effort, really, probably ripped all the fur out of your equipment or something, but your completely unused to this kind of temperature, and you've got all the wrong clothing."

"Sir?" The younger man said, looking confused.

"Well for starters passerby's might not notice but look at the material of your clothes! Cotton, really? No one wears cotton this time of the year here, especially with the prices of lighter linen cloth right now, boy. A beggar could steal 3 pairs and no one would care."

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This time what looked like the light of realization flickered in the younger man's eyes.

"Ah, I see your question already, and yes you're thinking right, that's why most of us here don't quite have your problem in the heat, but that too was still a nice little give away. That and a few other things." The older man added with a twirl of his wrist.

The younger man gave a sigh, seemingly realizing nothing he could do now would save him from the situation at hand.

"So, let's hear it from you now boy, where are you really from? Definitely not anywhere from this side of the Korengall I'd say."

There was a pause.

"I'm from the North, an area called Daiyu's Throat, or Daiyu's Maw depending on who you ask."

"Daiyu's Maw, never heard of it." The older man questioned, finally standing up and letting his growing stomach show.

"I'm not surprised, It's a very small area very far north. It's near to what we call the Balathrum"

"Now that's a name I do know, and from what I gather it's not what one would call a safe place." The man said with surprise in his eyes.

The younger man smirked a little and nodded "Only if you're not careful it can be."

The older man nodded with a bright smile on his face "Does that mean I can trust that you're a careful man?"

The boy looked confused again, "Sir?"

"Well, I'm currently short on good help, and from what I've seen so far you're more than qualified. Also, you're not stupid. How about we reintroduce ourselves now, like men."

The boy stopped for a second before nodding and stretching out his hand to the older gentleman.

"Daemon Oxso"

"Much obliged Mr. Oxso, my name is James Reese" nodded the older man before stretching out his own palm.