02-13-2016, 03:20 AM
Castor looked over the seemingly abandoned warehouse. There was no sign anyone was here except for the boat that he had followed to this place being docked nearby. It was owned by a man named Dalton, apparently an associate of William Garza. He had watched them dock just outside the Sunken Barrel Tavern earlier in the day. A dock worker had let him know when Mr. Garza arrived and he pointed the man out, telling him also of Dalton. The reason being that Garza had a job offer that Castor was interested in. However, Castor was a suspicious man. He wanted to know something about this Garza and also a bit about whoever he was hiring before he decided to join them.
So when Garza and Dalton walked into the Tavern, he made his way to the dock, laid his hand on their ship and memorized about a quarter of the ships dimensions and makeup. When he closed his eyes, he could see the piece clearly in his mind. And if he concentrated, he could sense in which direction the ship was, no matter how far.
With that accomplished, he entered the tavern, took a seat at a booth across the tavern from Garza and Dalton and simply watched. It was dark and crowded so Castor wasn’t worried about looking suspicious. He had waited there for quite a while as various mercenaries entered and joined the booth, having a few drinks as he did so. He had followed them outside and watched at a safe distance. After the ship left, following another, Castor had boarded his own rented sail boat. The ship was out of sight before Castor set sail but he followed his sense of where the ship was until he found it, here at this warehouse.
He approached the building, slightly nervous. He knew the job but had gleaned nothing really about the group from watching them, except that at least one of them were capable of brutal violence for the sake of the job. He had to be careful with this late entrance. He wasn’t sure what they were doing in this place. Perhaps they were preparing to leave. Castor couldn’t miss out on this opportunity.
He stepped up to the door and gave it a knock. He supposed this was safer than simply walking in. He took a few steps back and clasped his hands in front of him.
So when Garza and Dalton walked into the Tavern, he made his way to the dock, laid his hand on their ship and memorized about a quarter of the ships dimensions and makeup. When he closed his eyes, he could see the piece clearly in his mind. And if he concentrated, he could sense in which direction the ship was, no matter how far.
With that accomplished, he entered the tavern, took a seat at a booth across the tavern from Garza and Dalton and simply watched. It was dark and crowded so Castor wasn’t worried about looking suspicious. He had waited there for quite a while as various mercenaries entered and joined the booth, having a few drinks as he did so. He had followed them outside and watched at a safe distance. After the ship left, following another, Castor had boarded his own rented sail boat. The ship was out of sight before Castor set sail but he followed his sense of where the ship was until he found it, here at this warehouse.
He approached the building, slightly nervous. He knew the job but had gleaned nothing really about the group from watching them, except that at least one of them were capable of brutal violence for the sake of the job. He had to be careful with this late entrance. He wasn’t sure what they were doing in this place. Perhaps they were preparing to leave. Castor couldn’t miss out on this opportunity.
He stepped up to the door and gave it a knock. He supposed this was safer than simply walking in. He took a few steps back and clasped his hands in front of him.