"You are irritatingly persistent." Hal voiced a complaint to Birnerd. "What's this make, three times we've met in as many weeks?" Hal asked, preparing a spell to send Birnerd flying.

The two of them stood in the wood, Birnerd having found Hal soon after leaving the last town before reaching the coast. The hat Birnerd used to obscure his face in the city was hanging off a horn sticking out off the side of his head, the feather having vanished entirely in some way. His coat was ripped, revealing a stained set of dull brown clothes. Neither looked cheap or in disrepair, and the stains looked newish, but Hal could tell they smelled worse than they looked. Birnerd's cheeks were sunken in, with bags under his large black eyes. His long nose was crooked; Hal assumed it was still broken, having landed the kick that snapped it himself. The goatee that Hal had noted the first time they met was now surrounded by a patchy mess of unshaven facial hair, the goatee itself no better off than Birnerds clothing. He was panting heavily, having chased Hal for a non-insignificant distance after Hal spotted him earlier. But, despite how disheveled and unclean he appeared, Hal held next to no sympathy for the man.

"How do you want to do this?" Hal asked another question in a humorless tone. "I can bury you in the ground; I'd get pretty far before you dug yourself out," Hal said confidently, knowing Birnerd lacked the physical prowess to do so in a timely manner. "But I'm not so sure you wouldn't suffocate." Hal continued. "Could knock you out, tie you up in one of these trees. But I don't want to use the rope." Hal continued talking, fully intending to blast Birnerd all the way back to town as soon as he finished weaving a spell. "What do you think? Got any rope I could use?" Hal asked while glaring at the older man.

"Would... it be... too much... to ask... for us... to talk?" Birnerd asked between labored breaths.

"I told you before, I have no interest in talking with you," Hal said, the spell finally becoming visible in his hand.

"Passage across.... the sea..." Birnerd said, his tone almost desperate in the face of Hal's spell. Hal's eyes narrowed at the words, but they weren't enough to completely stop him, only make him hesitate. Seeing that hesitation, Birnerd sucked down air, trying to get out a more coherent sentence. "That's the reward." He said before sucking in more air. "Safe passage across the sea, to a port of your choosing." Birnerd looked at Hal, his eyes filled with desperation but not a hint of deceit. "My employer gave me full authority to choose the reward, no matter what it was, and I have the connections to offer that even without his backing. So I can guarantee you'll receive what you're promised if you just listen for a moment."

Birnerd didn't say anything more, not to Hal at least. He just kept staring at Hal with desperate pleading eyes. His lips trembled ever so slightly, barely even enough to form a word, but the shadows whispered to Hal that word clear as day. Please, please, please, over and over again, Birnerd pleaded silently. His pupils shook the tiniest glint of a tear forming at the corner of his eyes, the light of hope just barely surviving in a sea of resignation within those dark orbs. That hope wasn't that Hal would agree, nor was it even the hope that Hal would listen; that was the desperate, strangled hope of someone who had to do something no matter how much they wished not to. That same hope was one Hal had seen in the reflection of his own eyes too many times.

Hal wanted to ignore Birnerds plea, blast the persistent Gnarel back to town, and make way for the coast. It wouldn't cost Hal anything, not the ride across the sea, nor any guilt for the unknown fate of Birnerd should Hal ignore him. But Hal knew that light all too well. The look in Birnerds eyes was one Hal knew could only mean a few things, and every single one of them said Birnerd was at the end of his rope, and he dreaded the coming fall. Whatever had him chasing Hal so desperately, whatever had him so relentless in his pursuit that he'd still stand here knowing Hal might kill him, whatever had him clinging to the flicker of hope that Hal would listen to him, something in Hal wanted to crush that thing.

"Haaah," Hal sighed, the spell in his hand fading away, the visible manifestation of his magic vanishing as he let out his breath. "Fine, let's talk, Hal said while walking off the trail in search of cover and a seat. In turning away, he missed whatever look crossed Birnerds face at his response, be it relief, glee, or simple exhaustion. But, despite not seeing his face or how he responded to Hal's acquiesence, the shadows let Hal know that Birnerd seemed ready to collapse.

"So, what do you want?" Hal spoke across an impromptu fire made from an existing pile of sticks. Both the bundle of sticks and the half-rotten log Hal sat on were neither the best nor something Hal would typically use, but he hoped to move on past here before mid-day, so he accepted the terrible nature of both. "You've got my attention for a bit, so convince me that I shouldn't just leave," Hal said while preparing a kettle from his bag. Tea was easy enough to make out in the wilds.

"Have you ever heard of the trial of Luseer?" Birnerd asked while shifting around in discomfort on the ground where he sat.

"No." Hal replied. "is it something I should have heard of?" He asked.

"That depends on where you're from," Birnerd replied with a hollow smile. "Go far enough north, and you'd be pressed to find anyone who hadn't at least heard of it, and a portion of them took part in the trial when they were young." His eyes seemed to gleam like he recalled something pleasant before that gleam vanished once more in an instant.

"So, is what does your employer want from me? Do they want me to undergo this trial?" Hal asked with as little inflection as he could.

"Technically, that would be the case," Birnerd replied sheepishly.

Hal waited a moment for Birnerd to continue speaking, but when he didn't, Hal prodded him to do so. "Technically?" Hal questioned.

"My employer wants his son to undergo the trial, garner some fame for his son and all that. However, the trial isn't exactly the safest thing." Birnerd frowned at the words. "Most years, the trial ends with only a few exceptionally ill-prepared individuals dying, but sometimes things go a lot worse." A shadow swept over Birnerds eyes for a moment, and this time Hal didn't call out to him, resigned to wait for the older man to work through his memory alone before he said anything. Hal waited, watching the Gnarel Fight against whatever dark memory this moment reminded him of, and watched as slowly the shadow over his eyes faded away.

"Worse how?" Hal prompted Birnerd after he was sure the other man had regained his focus.

"Every now and again, things go wrong; someone slips in that has no interest in the trial, only in making sure no one completes it. Those are the years where no one comes back."Birnerd seemed like he was about to slip into another bout of not speaking, but Hal didn't feel like waiting this time, so he forced the conversation along.

"So your employer wants me to act as a guard for his son?" Hal asked, eliciting a look of shock from birnerd before the gnarel collected himself again.

"That is the premise of the job, yes," Birnerd replied.

"Why not hire someone else?" Hal asked. "I don't know who your employer is, but I imagine they have enough money to pay someone stronger than I am." He continued, confusion slipping into his voice.

"That would have to do with the restriction on entering the trial." Birnerd seemed to perk up at the opportunity to explain this topic. "The trial of Luseer is intended as a test for notable youths, and while most of the people who participate meet that requirement, the actual restriction has nothing to do with age." Birnerd continued explaining, and as he did, Hal felt a weight settle on his shoulder when he realized the restriction. "The trial takes place in a particular living realm that prevents entry for anyone who doesn't meet the specific requirements. No one with a tier-two class or higher can enter, nor can anyone who has gone through three or more evolutions." Birnerd explained the restriction, and in doing so, told Hal that he hadn't been as cautious about his past actions as he'd believed.

"Tch" Hal clicked his tongue in response to that unfortunate reality.

"So you've figured out why my employer is set on having you act as one of the guards for his son?" Birnerd asked with a pitying smile on his face.

"I have, and I'd like to know how they found out about me," Hal said, a glare seeping across his face.

"Ahh ahh ah," Birnerd threw his hands of defensively in response to Hal's change in mood. "Don't get too wound up; my employer doesn't know anything substantial about you, at least not you specifically. He has no idea what you look like, how old you are, what race you are, only that you're strong enough to be a full-fledged hunter, but none of the guilds you applied to would take you, on account of being too low leveled." Birnerd tried his best to dissuade Hal's irritation by explaining what this unnamed man in a country to the north had managed to find out about Hal.

Hal didn't like what he'd heard. While that level of information was something he could tolerate, it could suggest that others knew more. If a man in a country Hal had never been to could find the details of Hal's inability to become a hunter, someone more dedicated might discover something more damning. Add that to the possibility that Birnerd wasn't privy to everything his employer knew, and Hal's resolve to leave the continent was strengthened. However, Hal felt a tingle in the air about this conversation with Birnerd; the other man needed Hal more than his employer did. And since Birnerd had given Hal a good bit of information, some helpful to Hal, some not, Hal felt he should at least think about repaying the man.

"Alright, I understand what your employer wants, and I'm willing to consider it," Hal started.

"Then..." Birnerd jumped up excitedly at Hal's words, but before he could say anything, Hal held a hand up to indicate he had more to say.

"I'm willing to consider the job" Hal emphasized the word heavily. "But I want to know why you are so desperate for me to take the job." Hal stoked at the reason for that hopeless look in Birnerds eye.

Hal saw the conflict in Birnerd. One side wanted to keep the information hidden, keep his secrets and try and convince Hal to take the job without revealing his personal burdens. The other side saw an opportunity in Hal, a singular chance that Hal might solve his problem in some manner, not that Hal knew if he could. The two sides warred back in forth, Birnerd silent all the while. The first was confident Hal could do nothing and would take the job without the answer to his question. The other side was timid, scarred, but logical. It knew Hal had little or no reason to take the job itself, and it clung to the hope that Hal could help. The first was beaten, downtrodden, hopeless; it didn't believe Hal could help, even if he knew the problem, nor did it trust Hal would be willing to do so. But the second kept that hope, clung to it with enough desperation that it shined in Birnerds eyes even now, and that light was just bright enough to blind Birnerd to the less desirable possibilities.

"Hahh" Birnerds sighed, the side of hope winning out over the other, his body relaxing as he prepared himself to tell Hal the truth.