The Crow's Nest was rowdy as always, when Jak took a seat in his favorite booth. The room was poorly lit, which was preferable for the kind of person who patrons the Nest. It was a place for striking deals and playing games. The air was thick with pipe smoke and language you wouldn't use in front of your mother.

"Jak! Good ta see ya in one piece. Buy ya a round for a story?" A fat old rogue with an eyepatch called to him from the bar.

"Make it two and you've got a deal." Jak yelled back.

"Always a deal with that one!" Yelled someone from the back of the room, receiving a round of laughter."

"Come on Jak, I got a house special for ya." The old barman held up a mug of thick brown liquid.

"On second thought, hold the special Gramps and I'll tell a tall for free." Jak got his own round of laughs for that, and stood on his table to tell a very animated story of a run-in with a knight's daughter. His arm still pained him, and he didn't move it much, but he still managed to captivate his audience.

The sun set by the time he was done, and Hash had arrived to interject what he remembered of the story. Out of breath and grinning, Jak finally sat down to a pint of ale and a thick slice of meat pie.

"We've missed ye Jak. Good ta have you back in town." Hash slapped his back. "Anyway, let me tell ya, I can't find a damned thing on yer historian, but I might have a lead. I don't suppose you can wait a week more?"

"No, that's ok Hash. I'm out of time for that. Thanks for trying." Jak took a deep swig of his tankard.

"Ah well. I'm goin' ta get my own dinner then, if it's all the same to you." Hash left the booth and quickly coiled himself around a giggling barmaid on her way to the kitchens.

"Is this seat taken?" A figure in a light grey cloak stood over his table. All the energy of the barroom didn't seem to phase the quiet stranger. Still, he could be a client, or have a message.

"That depends, who the hells are you." Jak let his good arm fall to his hilt casually.

"I notice you aren't using both arms tonight. Old injury?" The figure sat across from him, putting Jak on edge.

"I don't think I like your tone." Jak drew his knife slowly so he didn't draw too much attention, but made sure the stranger could see it.

"Careful, you're bringing a lightning rod to a storm." The stranger lifted a hand, small tendrils of electricity jumping between his fingers. Jak let out a string of words that would make a soldier blush.

"I could yell right now for a guard and you'd be dead." Jak hissed, sheathing his dagger.

"You won't do that, because they will want to know why I snuck out to see you. I'll bet a search of your rooms will land you in a noose right next to mine." The stranger leaned back. "Your move thief."

Jak glared at him for a long time. Then, he smiled as if he had just found an old friend. "Gramps! A room with a door and good chairs. And top off my mug you old codger."

"You got it Jak. Take the one on the left." The barman waved in the direction of the stairs.

"Come on." Jak stood and lead Anders to a small room with a table and reasonably comfortable chairs. Lewd portraits of women hung on the walls, and there were suspicious stains on the floor.

"So what is it you want?" Jak leaned on the table between them, staring intently at the hood. Trying to see the face underneath.

"There were a series of thefts in Whitethorn. Among the stolen items was a series of notes. My notes. What did you do with them?" The mage casually placed a hand on the table, but let a few sparks fly. The threat was noted, and ignored. If he wanted information, he needed Jak's cooperation, not his corpse.

"I don't know what series of thefts you are referring to, as I took one single book. But if you are talking about the blundering oaf who ran all over creation demonstrating his ineptitude for picking locks, you have the wrong man."

"Don't lie to me. You want me to believe not one, but two thieves managed to break into Whitethorn in one night?" The mage growled.

"Believe it or not mate, I don't have your notes." The wheels in Jak's head were turning though, and he narrowed his eyes at the cloaked figure. "Though we might be able to help each other out. That is, if you can show an ounce of trust."

"What are you talking about?" The mage stiffened.

"I've got a problem of my own. You see, the job you so thoroughly caught me doing isn't setting right in my gut. That probably don't mean much to you, but in my line of work, your gut is everything. You look at my book, I poke around for your notes." Jak leaned back. The mage was visibly struggling with something and it took a while for him to answer.

"Fine. What do we do first?"

"First, this is no way to work together. You aren't a client, and I'm not your thief. My name is Jak Skinner, and I'm very good at acquiring rare items." Jak held out his hand, the mage didn't move. "Come on lad, this isn't a one way deal."

"Anders." The mage lowered his hood and shook Jak's hand.

"Just Anders?" Jak raised an eyebrow. "Most mages I know have long, flashy names."

"My last name was forfeit the moment my powers developed. I'll be named when I am free to leave Whitethorn." Anders sat back down, but left his hood off.

"Actually, that's something that I've been wondering. I know your ranks, comes with the business. What I don't know is how a brown mage knocked me on my arse." Jak looked at the gently glowing mark on Anders's neck.

"I missed my chance to take the last assessments. I have no idea what my real rank is." Anders stared blankly to the side for a moment, then sternly continued. "But I WILL get my chance this year. Before they'll let me take the harder tests though, I need to present an advancement to the knowledge of magic. I've been working on a project for... for a long time. Those are my stolen workbooks. I don't have time to start over."

"Well, lets see if we can't get this fixed then. How long til you have to get back?" Jak stood.

"I should be going as soon as possible." Anders stood too, drawing the hood back over his eyes.

"What floor are you on?" Jak lightly rubbed his bad arm.

"Top. East wall. You think you can get in a second time?" Anders asked.

"Better than you can get out again I'm sure. I'm running out of time. I'll see you tonight with the book." Jak opened the door to let Anders out first.

"Fine. I'll have no tricks on my door. Until then." Anders nodded and headed towards the front of the barroom. Jak took a seat at his usual booth and drained the tankard he had left there.

"That one need followed?" Hash came up to the table with a leg of meat and a mug of something that smelled suspiciously like the house special.

"Nah, I've got business with that one yet. He's ok." Jak left his empty pint on the bar and fixed his cloak over his arm. "I've got a long night. If I'm not back by morning check the gallows." He winked at Hash, who smiled and raised his mug.

"Get on then. Tell me a tale tomorrow." Hash waved Jak out the Nest and into the night.