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The Hogs Head was at least a proper establishment. Nothing like the Broken Stool at all; the complete opposite. The only thing the two had in common was that they both served what could be considered alcohol. The owner of the bar was a rather jolly ram who went by the name of Billy. He had quite a lot to be jolly about, he had a steady stream of patrons thanks to being situated directly across from Has-Haven's Wizard's college.

Unfortunately for him, he was about to have the worst day of his life.

He heard the creak of the door, which was odd at this time of day. "I'm terribly sorry, but we're not open, if you-" the words caught in his throat as he looked at the man.

His first thought was that he looked a mess. His clothes were disheveled, his cloak torn and slashed, his eye was swollen from a recent blow. His hair was a mess and he was covered in mud. And blood. He was covered in quite a lot of blood, much of which didn't look like his. "You would turn down a patron?" The man said coldly, Billy was quite sure he was a red-panda. And he had only heard of one of those in the city... Mr. Ozymandias.

"A-ah...well...ya see...it's half past two, and we don't open till four," he said as he watched the man walk across the room slowly and deliberately.

"I think you will be making an exception to that." He placed his briefcase upon the bar, a short sword stabbed through it.

"Well...I mean, ya see...I would..." He watched as the battered man in front of him pulled the sword free with ease. "But...I...uhh..." Billy had lost his train of thought, watching the man examine the sword.

"I'm having a rather bad day, so I'll start off with a pint," Jace said as he placed a dollar on the table and slid it towards the barkeeper.

"R-r-right. Right away, sir."

~

Two hours ago, Jace left the thieves guild. By an open gate for once. Apparently there were certain times of day that the gates were open. But his mind was focused on a lot of other things. Jersa... Stella... His mind was a jumble.

First there was Jersa. Asking the Mistress about...things. Things pertaining to him, and most likely what happened last night. She seemed rather pleased at the whole matter. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. Had Jersa told the Mistress the truth about him? Did she know that he was actually Lord Foxern? That would mean that his little act was nothing more than him making a fool of himself. But she appeared to believe the act...but maybe she was acting? He hoped that the rumor would spread in his favor.

But what about Jersa? The way the Mistress spoke of breaking hearts and developing feelings...did she actually think about him like that? Did he think of her like that? What if it was just some ruse. A long con. He was rich after all, and she was a thief. That just muddled up his head even more. She was cute when she wanted to be, but maybe that was an act. Maybe she just figured out his buttons and knew how to push them...

Then there was Stella. She was a completely different headache. The way she spoke to him...he had a hard time believing she was lying. If it was a lie, she would have been making quite a lot of assumptions. Or she had done her research... How much could someone find out about him in such a short amount of time? Surely she had the resources, with an entire guild backing her. But Dr. Minsra surely could be trusted...otherwise why would he assign Stella to him? Unless there was already a contract out on him. But then why the act? Why try to get so close to him, just to murder him? What was the angle?

He couldn't figure it out. His brain was full of nothing but questions and no idea of where to even start. There was no real safe place in this city. Everyone could just be saying nice things to his face, waiting to see how the tides of war went. If they swung in Lady Cersa's favor, would they turn on him? Which reminded him. "Where are they?" he mumbled as he looked around. He figured they would be nearby, waiting for him to leave. Well, at the very least they knew where he was going.

So with a deep breath, trying to force his thoughts back towards the job, he set off towards the Hogs Head. He reminded himself to be cautious, checking for possible traps he could be walking into. After all, he was in a dangerous city. But as he glanced down an alleyway he saw something that burned into his mind immediately. His hand went to his face, trying to force himself to be calm as his heart sank. Suddenly he felt alone and miserable all over again.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not get the image to leave his mind. It was like it had burned itself into his skull. They had been there. Stella pinned to the wall by Jersa...their mouths locked together. Just as he had done with Jersa. But it was more than that. He could see the intensity. The passion. It was everything he had done and more. It was just...why did that hurt so much?

He swung his briefcase upwards, hardly registering the action. It was like something else was paying attention and guided his actions. Holding the briefcase in both hands as makeshift shield, the blade was inches away from actually hitting him. He twisted it, forcing the cloaked figure to lose his grip on the sword. The figure leapt back, drawing another blade.

Thunk.

A rather thick piece of wood sprung out from the figures chest, and he fell to his knees. Jace calmly reloaded the small crossbow attached to his underarm. The blade that the figure had pulled clattered to the floor as Jace approached, drawing his knife. He pulled back the hood, looking into the face of the familiar orange tabby. He placed the blade against the throat of the tabby, staring him down. "So the game has truly begun," he mumbled.

There was no fear in the eyes of the tabby. He coughed, splattering his sleeve with blood. Apparently the little bolt had had enough force to puncture through his rib cage and puncture a lung.

"How much?" Jace asked, quite casually, as if asking a butcher the price of a slab of meat.

"Twelve...hundred..."

"Tsk. I would have expected more." In one smooth motion, he stepped back and put away his knife. He picked his briefcase up and began walking again, leaving the tabby to think about what had just happened.

The day had just gone from confusing, to bad, to worse, very quickly.

~

He hardly made it a few blocks before he saw two guards jogging up to him. "There's people who say you attacked an orange tabby. That true?"

"I defended myself against an assassin, yes," he said coldly.

The guards looked at each other, and then one sighed, pulling out a notepad. "Self defense, you say?"

Jace paused, staring at the guard, before lifting up his briefcase, showing the blade stabbed through it. "It's not like I did this to my own property."

The guard nodded. He was...writing down his statement? That confused Jace quite a lot. Any other place would have arrested him, or just ignored it. "Alright. Well, he was an assassin, and on a job...which means you're not technically in any trouble..."

"Then may I go? I have an important meeting to get to in-" he paused as he pulled out his watch. It was almost one. "Two hours," he finished. "And it is a rather long walk."

Again the guard nodded. "Yanno, normal people tend to be worried when a contract gets put on them."

"It's chump change to an assassin. Twelve hundred is kik's to someone of their skill and value. I expect it to go up now, but for the time being I am not concerned," he said as he looked the guard up and down.

"Right. Well, you have a nice day, Mr. Ozymandias." He tipped his helmet to him before both of them set off back where they had come from.

"What a weird city," he mumbled.

~

A few blocks later, something struck him in the face. He put up his briefcase, putting his back to the wall as he tried to figure out what had happened. He could see a rather large rock and a rather large kangaroo. Wrapped hands. "Oh goodie. More cliché's." He fired from under the beifcase, but the kangaroo was already out of the way and the bolt struck the building on the other side of the street.

Jace rolled to avoid being stomped, but before he could fully regain his balance he felt something hard hit his face, in the same place as the rock. And he was quite certain that the rock had been softer. He tried to pull his knife, but got a boot in the side of the ribs, sending him soaring into the street. Directly into the path of a cart moving at full speed. "Not so tough," the kangaroo said as he stood on the curb, watching Jace bounce off the cart and land in the street.

Meanwhile Jace did his best to not cough up one of his lungs. After all, he needed those. There was a general...cheering from the crowd? Were they cheering that there was a fight? "This fucking city," he mumbled as he got up.

"Oh? Still got some fight in ya?" He swung again, and Jace put up his arm, catching the fist before it could make contact. Much to the surprise of the kangaroo.

"I am really-" he struck the kangaroo hard in the stomach, "-starting-" he struck again, "-to hate-" a third blow, "-this city!" He pulled his knife, jamming it into the back of the kangaroo that was now doubled over in front of him.

He screamed out in pain, even as Jace pulled out the knife and shoved him away. He let the kangaroo writhe in the street as he pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned his blade. The crowd was cheering. "Tisk tisk."

Ahead of him was a rather dapper looking lion. "Don't even start with me," Jace said as he reloaded his wrist crossbow.

The lion raised his hands. "Merely impressed, Mr. Ozymandias." Jace spat blood to the side, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. "The Mistress sure knows how to pick'em."

"Yeah?" He stepped up onto the curb, picking up his briefcase. He tongued at a loosened tooth.

"I must say your fighting style is a little lacking...effective, but lacking." The lion ran his fingers through his mane as one may stroke a beard. "Very little actual training, but a lot of experience."

He stared at the lion. It was true, Jace didn't have much actual training when it came to fighting unnarmed. A bit of sparring with Mr. Tompkin and professional trainers, but most of his skill in fisticuffs came from him picking fights with nobles that pissed him off. "More than enough to take you," he spat out the loose tooth as it came free. He could see the latch in the lions cane, giving away that it was actually a sword. He really hated those types.

"Oh? You think you could take me with your little dart thing and that pathetic knife?" He knew the lion was goading him. But Jace was far too pissed off to decline at this point.

"Depends on if you actually know how to use that dinky little sword cane." He set the briefcase down against the wall. Quite a lot of nobles thought they could cut down people with those, but the ones they had had were more for show. This was the real deal.

"Oh I am quite skilled if I do say so myself." With a soft click, he drew the sword from the cane.

"Pompous little shit," he mumbled. He really, really hated those types. But now he really wished he had a sword. Then at least he knew he stood a chance, he was good with one of those... He rolled his shoulders, fluffing out his cloak so that the lion couldn't see his arms as he drew his knife. He wondered how blood it had spilled...and how much more it would.

"Right then! Outta the way! Break it up!" He glanced left as he saw the two guards approaching, and instinctively stepped to the side as the lion lunged.

The sword went straight through his cloak and as he slashed upwards in retort, the lion simply leaned back, avoiding it with ease. He was good.

"Oi! I said break it up!" Both guards had clubs drawn.

"Tisk." With a smooth movement, the lion stood on the other side of the guards as both fell to their knees. "This is a matter to be settled amongst men of honor, and will not be interrupted."

That...caught Jace off guard. He had stabbed both of them before they even had a chance to react. With a simple flick of the wrist, the lions blade was cleaned as blood splattered the cobblestone.

And the crowd cheered.

"This place is sheer insanity..." I wanna go home...

Thud.

The lion fell to one knee, grasping at his shoulder. "You! Have you no honor?! Shooting a man in the back!"

"No," Jace said as he walked forward. The lion could barely hold onto his sword. "Honor would have been a duel. On fair terms." He turned his knife over in his hand. "If you had wanted an honorable fight, you would have challenged me," he said coldly. "To a duel. One I would have accepted, and been properly armed for." He stopped just out of reach of the lion.

"You bastard. You honorless cur. You shot me in the back!" The lion made a swipe at him, but he was too far away.

"You are the one without honor," he said as he walked closer. The crowd grew quite, trying to hear every word. "You goad me to fight you, after I have been injured, when I am improperly armed." He swung again now that he was within reach, but the blade got caught in his cloak as he used it to block. "And then you assault the town guards. Men just trying to do their job. And you strike them down in the street."

"The Rise of Gion?" the lion muttered.

Jace felt his eye twitch. "I see you are well read. Perhaps if things had been different-"

"We could have been allies," the lion muttered, releasing his grip on his blade.

"The classics," Jace said as he knelt down by the lion.

"Truly you are a man of taste." Jace dove back as the wrist blade snagged his shirt, slashing the front of it open.

Jace pulled the sword free from his cloak, doing quite a bit of damage to it as he did. "And you do not give up so easily it would seem." He could feel the blood oozing down his chest. If he had not been expecting it, he would be dead.

"I have my honor," he said as he stood up.

"And I have mine," Jace said with a smirk. "But it seems our time is up."

"What?"

Thud.

More guards had shown up, one of which had just clubbed the lion over the back of the head. Jace dropped the sword cane, putting his hands in the air as guards pointed crossbows at him. "The hell happened here? Who did this?" Bilt said, and in response every single person in the crowd pointed at the now unconscious lion.

But Bilt stared at Jace. "Do not look at me. I am merely defending myself," he said as he put away his knife.

"Yeah? Looks to be a lot of that going on with you today," he said as he moved towards Jace, squaring up in front of him.

To his surprise, Jace stepped forward to meet him and glare back at him. "It's almost like people don't like me. Isn't that strange, Commander Bilt?" Jace couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah. Real strange," he practically growled. "You planning on 'defending' yourself anymore today?"

His glare hardened at the Commander. "As much as I need to."

~

"And ice, if you have any," Jace said to the barkeeper.

"Right," he said as he quickly got him a pint and a bag with ice.

He immediately picked up the bag and placed it against his face. "Nnng..." It stung, but he was starting to have trouble seeing out of the eye and needed the swelling to go down. He took a few rather large swigs from his pint, trying to numb the pain he was in. Another part of him was trying to get rid of the image that was still burned in his mind. Somehow that was even worse than the physical pain.

It was such an odd feeling. He was trying to figure out if this is what heartbreak was. He had never really fallen for anyone as far as he was aware. His mother had told him that when he fell in love, there would be nothing that would stop him. It was the same with his father. She had fallen in love with him almost immediately. A reverse Cinderella story if ever there had been one. Though in his father's case, he had crashed the ball, and hadn't known who she was.

He sighed before downing the rest of his pint. "Another," he mumbled. He wanted that buzz to kick in. But there was no more beer in his mug. "Did you hear me? I said-" He looked up, the ram was pressed up against the wall, staring horrified towards the door.

Jace looked back to see four people standing in front of the door, as a fifth closed the door.

"Gods you guys organize quick," he muttered as he turned around, leaning against the bar, watching the five figures out of his good eye, not removing the ice pack.

"Joe and Leo failed, so obviously we have to take you far more seriously."

Joe and Leo. How much cliché nonsense was he going to have to deal with? "So you're all...what...assassin's? Mercenaries?"

"Does it matter?" one of them said, but Jace couldn't tell who.

"Please," Jace said as he pulled out his pocketwatch. "Indulge my curiosity."

"If you must know. We were sent by Lady Cersa." They spread out through the room. He didn't like that. "The hunt does not stop till the prey is dead."

"So, mercenaries then." He looked back at the ram. "Another pint, please. My head is killing me." He watched as the ram, slowly and reluctantly, refilled his mug.

"A final drink before you die?"

"Honestly I don't what hurts my head more. You're cliché names and predictable dialogue, or that rock." He looked at his pocketwatch. "I don't suppose there'd be any way I could talk you into...just...not? Or at least postponing this to another day when I don't feel like crap?"

Swords were drawn, as well as two crossbows.

"I figured as much..." He sighed as he sipped at his new mug. "Stella, if you'd be so kind."

One of the cloaked figures dropped forward, and there stood Stella. "Aw. How'd you know I was here? I was all set to swoop into the rescue."

Another fell as the group looked at Stella. "I'm here too!" Jersa announced with a rather large grin, cleaning off her blade.

Murder was too much of a thing in this town. He had hoped that by talking to Dr. Minsra for someone less inclined to murder...but it would seem that both his companions were not afraid of a little wet work. He turned around, watching the ram react to the fight that was happening behind Jace. He realized, he was not really one to talk...having murdered at least one person this afternoon already, probably two. Maybe it was just this city...it was what it did to people.