[[Chapter 1 - Tagging Job|Previous Chapter]] # Chapter 2 - Refund Bridge Lawrence is the oldest bridge among the four bridges crossing the Vith river and said to be older than the city's founding after the end of the great war. The bricks and stones that make up the bridge differ in various parts assembles its long standing history of the bridge. Hailey always wondered why the oldest bridge in the city connected to the newest district in the city, but today her mind was foggy as the riverbanks itself. Hailey dragged her feet towards the ledge of the bridge, she looked down at the river rushing over towards the sea. In her pocket, eight cinns neatly tucked in a small pouch and the stamp in a small lead lined container. She let out a deep sigh and looked at the sidewalk stretch filled with various street vendors setting up their shop for the day; they sold anything from food to whatever they fished out of the riverbed. This is where Hailey was picked up for this job from a mediator. She wasn't sure how she was selected but the pay was good; couple peps and quickly escalated to now sixteen cinns, enough for each of the team member live modestly for about half a year. The tasks so far were relatively simple, slipping into an office to copy some documents, dropping off some documents in another office or at a drop off points. Last night was different though, it was something she couldn't do but she did it because it's not just herself she has to look after now she has others she is working with. She wished she had more time to report so she could ask for some advise from her mentor. The mediator reaches out to Hailey in several steps to ensure Hailey's party doesn't know who the clients are and no way to trace back should they are captured and questioned who is behind it all. This job was bit too on the nose in her mind, there's only one organization renown for slave trade. It wasn't too far off to think they would expand their "catalogue". The contact this time is the the old jeweler close to the New District side selling cheap accessories. The sparse oxen carts and carriages clopped rhythmically on the cobblestone and several birds carrying small parcels flew over the bridge just below the unlit crystal lamp posts. The eight cinns in her pouch felt extra heavy, half of the upfront payment for the last night's job. She stood at the vendor and watched the old man bend the copper wiring around a red stone with his tools. Her both hands were jabbed deep into her jacket pocket, fingers fiddling with the six pointed stamp. She turned around from the vendor and put the stamp and the eight cinn into a small lead lined box. "Ah pretty lady, we have some lovely necklace that would go well with your pretty eyes." The vendor's hand stopped moving and tilted his chin to point at a necklace in the corner when Hailey turned around to face the old man. He was in his twilight years with thin gray hair with patchy beard with a grin missing several teeth. "I came here to return," She drawled, almost hesitant and placed the lead lined box in front of the old man. "Ah I recognize you pretty lady. Pity, that would be forty sals was it?" The old man took the box and slipped under his stool, picked up his coin storage and counted forty sals; a ribbed curved square bronze coins with a hole in the middle. He suggested to bundle them with a string and Hailey shook her head and picked up two sals from the stack and set it aside. It was code; one for failure, two for success and three for complication. The remaining payment and the following instructions are made depending on the response. She jabbed her hands into the jacket, her fingers trembled she wasn't sure how they would interpret the message. "For your inconvenience..." Hailey muttered. "Perhaps this would be of your interest instead...?" Hailey couldn't figure out whether that was code for another work or not. Would there be another work if she declined this offer? More over, she returned the payment on a successful job. She wasn't even sure whether the money would go back to the mediator. Herlin is fine without money but what about Slade? Can he pay off the place he is staying? Perhaps she should invite him over to her place for the time being? She could just pick up more street performance and ask her mentor for some more errand work until something good come up? Will they even contact her ever again? Or would they send sell swords to silence them? Maybe just this one time she could close her eyes and take the coin like Slade suggested. She should have. It's too late now. "Pretty lady?" the old vendor's words brought her back from her thoughts. She forced a smile, snatched the thirty eight sals and stumbled away from the bridge towards the New District. [[Chapter 3 - Invitation Letter|Next Chapter]]