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Victor set foot back onto the pier, a bit worried. The ship the Falcon had escaped on... it wasn't in the port. How many ports did Thieves Haven have? Wasn't it just the one? Could they have dropped anchor somewhere out to sea and out of sight? No... It was more likely that Victor's keen instincts had, for once, led him astray. He'd made a long journey in the wrong direction. The trail had gone cold... Victor looked up, his eyes scanning the desolate desert city before him. Well, I guess there's no better place than here to pick the trail up again. He grinned to himself before cracking his knuckles enthusiastically. Let the interrogations begin.

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Victor walked back out of yet another pub, his metal gloves coated with a light spatter of blood. One of his pant legs had a singed hole under which was a new bandage. He wasn't limping, but the pain was quite the irritant to deal with. There was a new scratch on his metal helmet from the feeble attempt at an attack from one of the night's many interviewees. Victor tilted his head back and heaved a heavy sigh. This part of Thieves Haven was devoid of any definitive information on artifacts, female pirates, or rogue legends. The sun had long ago set and Victor was all but spent of energy. His hunt would have to begin again in the morning.

Victor trudged into the Inn across the street. The proximity to the pub was quite the business tactic. Without saying a word, he dropped a small bag of coins on the front desk before heading up the stairs, not bothering to grab a key. He found a room that was silent and slid his knife between the door and its frame, moving the latch out of place. The room was vacant. Victor threw his things to the floor and laid on the bed, falling asleep without even taking off his helmet.

Victor awoke from a dream. Of what, he had no idea. He hung on to bits and fragments of images, but they always slipped through his weary fingers. Victor never was able to remember his dreams. Of one thing, however, he was certain. He dreamed of her.

Victor hadn't unpacked or undressed, so leaving was a quick process. The sun had risen and it was time again to begin the hunt. Thieves Haven was a sprawling mess of chaos and deciept. Finding one criminal intent on not being found amongst thousands of the same mold was going to be like finding a shadow under a cloudy night sky. As he glanced at the confused Inn Keeper who'd missed Victor's entry last night, he cracked his neck. One only needs to use a torch. He chuckled at his own humor. He was sure fate would turn in his favor. It always had. This wasn't the most difficult hunt he'd been on. Hey, when the client can't give you so much as a hair color, you just dig deeper.

Reveling in nostalgia of jobs since past, Victor walked out of the Inn in good spirits. His mood was further lifted when he turned and was a mere stone's throw from none other than Cross Rokairo. A cruel smile played across his features. Waddya know... The Falcon did come to the nest. With swift practice and silence, Victor reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a boleadora before hurling it towards Cross's legs.

Boleadora (leg snare)

Well, he's not on the roof anymore, so that's half my work done already. Not wasting time, Victor charged forward as the target cut himself loose. He intended to end this quickly. Better to get a jump on things than go for a heads up fight. He was a mercinary and bound to escape if given the chance. Victor had no intention of giving him one. He waited for the Falcon to turn before raising his palm towards him. He focussed on the old, golden ring on his ring finger. Flash! The ring let loose a blinding white light for an instant before going dark again. Anyone close enough looking directly at him would be temporarily blinded, some even stunned. Not wanting to miss his chance, Victor tucked his shoulder and bent his legs in a low charge. He'd been trained in many forms of fighting from fist fighting to advance sword techniques, but sometimes, you just can't beat a solid tackle.

Victor's eyes widened. Instead of the satisfactory landing impact he'd expected, he and the mercenary were sent skyward by a sudden and powerful gust of wind. The same wind spun the Falcon out of Victor's grip. He glimpsed a red shape in his peripherals before it connected with his midsection. The impact sent him flying to the side. Victor bounced unceremoniously off of a rooftop and landed on the other side. He was sorely tempted to simply lay there and pass out from the pain. He was confident he'd just fractured a rib. Grunting in pain, the bounty hunter rose first to his knees, then to his feet. It would seem he possesses two artifacts. I'll have to take his wind abilities into account. Victor drew his dagger, holding it point down. I'll have to fight what I can't see. Not anything new. With some effort, he began to make his way to the other side of the building. He just hoped his prey hadn't already fled.

Victor had spun in a full circle, taking on his surroundings with a trained eye. He was certain the man had escaped when he heard an impact from somewhere below. The bounty hunter peered over the edge into the abyss. He was certain he'd heard a scuffle from the levels beneath him. The chase continues. With some hesitation, Victor leaped to the lower rooftops.

With his injury, his descent was slowed than he preferred. Nevertheless, he made his way to the bottom in good time. He landed with grace on the dirt road. He was but a few steps from the mercenary who seemed to be searching for something. Lookin around the ground surrounding them, he spotted a scroll a foot behind him. The map! He readied his dragged and faced his opponent. "You want this map? Well... so does my employer." He chuckled, but stopped short for the pain in his chest from his injury. "I'll take pay for the map. I'll take the Falcon out for free." He raised his dagger, pointing at the mercenary. "You want this map? Come take it."