A man stood a few feet into the forest, watching the small keep the legion kept in the Holly Wood. It always amazed him how little people looked at things. He wasn't by any means hidden, but none of the several dozen people within a hundred feet had noticed him. They had already seen the forest, and they didn't bother to ever look carefully again. As long as he stood still, he could observe for hours.
He noted the large number of bored mercenaries. Some were small units of sell-swords, but the majority were 'players'. The players had far less patience and no discipline. To them, this was all a large party to be enjoyed before they marched down to a small village and raided it. There were opportunities to be had here, but he wasn't going to side with this rabble. Let them fight, then he'd see what he could take advantage of.
He had hunted great beasts time and time again. In the next few days, he would be hunting men. Or women, he wasn't picky the way some hunters were.
His bird was bored. She'd been patient so far, but she either wanted to be on the wing or hunting. He was undecided about moving up to the keep or fading back into the forests. It was the smell of food that convinced him. Someone was roasting a pig. His bird smelled it too, and became even more agitated. He soothed her with his hand and checked the leather tie that connected his shoulder harness to the jesses on her ankles. "OK girl. Let's get something to eat and get more info on what's going on here."
He strode from the forest and made his way through the assortment of tents, following the smell of roasting meat. A merchant was turning the pig over an open fire and selling chunks of slices of meat. He flipped the merchant a silver piece, probably twice what he needed to pay, and it got the man's attention. "Give me a large chunk, but no fat or gristle, it's bad for the bird." The merchant handed him a piece of sackcloth with a chunk of meat. He alternated a bit for himself, and a bit for the bird. She was always hungry these days.
A drunken mercenary noticed his bird and walked over. Falconer disliked her on sight. Red hair, a slinky green dress showing far too much skin, and an odd assortment of necklaces made of flowers and bark. Her 'staff' looked like she had torn a branch off an oak tree. "Ooh, cool bird. Can I pet him?" She reached for the falcon.
Falconer took a step back. "Only if you don't mind losing a finger. SHE doesn't like to be touched."
"Ooh pooh, she looks like a real cutie-pie. I'm a druid, she knows I won't hurt her." Falconer shrugged and the woman moved to pet the bird. A razor-sharp beak snapped out and blood spurted from the two amputated fingers that fell to the ground."
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Falconer moved to avoid the spurt of blood as the woman started screaming. A large man in worn chain mail had observed what happened, and walked over, stopping well out of reach of the bird. "Dangerous bird. I like that. My name is Brandon. I'm hiring." He stuck out his hand.
"Falconer. I'm not interested in your upcoming fight. But might be interested in your leftovers. Every battle leaves a few problem children running around the woods playing guerrilla. I like hunting those. More of a challenge."
Brandon nodded. "That could be useful. I want to clean this operation up fast. How do I find you?"
Falconer looked towards the forest. "I'll be camping nearby, but near the keep. Come find me here after the battle if you have work for me. I've already scouted Sedgewick and the lands around it. " The two men nodded and Falconer walked away. He was almost to the forest when a very large female intercepted his route. Barbarian of some sort, in their usual collection of armor pieces and furs.
"Hold up a minute. You're a bounty hunter?"
Falconer didn't argue the term. "I could be. Who do you need to be caught or killed?"
"Neither. But I heard you were in Sedgewick. I'm looking for information on a person there."
Falconer considered. "Three gold for information."
The woman grimaced not liking the price, and Falconer turned to leave.
"Fine, here's three gold. I need information on a big man, taller than me, bald, tanned skin. A merchant said his name was Ozzy."
Falconer grinned. "Well, you made that the easiest three gold I've ever earned. You're looking for the Butcher."
The woman wasn't amused. "I expect more than that for three gold. Or me and my girls will beat you up and take back my gold."
"Unbunch your panties, woman. I won't cheat you. He lives in the tavern, on the third floor. The barmaid at the tavern is his lover or roommate. He's a worker, not a player. You'll find him working a smoking pit next to a slaughtering pen. He's both more and less dangerous than he looks. Don't underestimate him, and don't piss him off unless you want that fight. You looking to get even with him?"
Other women had walked up behind the barbarian. A dwarven woman wearing a kilt laughed. "In a way. He owes us all a night of fun for running away too quickly. After the fight, Brandon says he's ours."
Falconer let himself grin, just a little. "Like I said, don't underestimate him."