Human Mercenary

John Doe the Human Merc it is...

You step out of your little apartment into the musty hallway. This building is so run down you're glad you don't keep much in your apartment, it'd probably collapse into rubble anyways.

You leave the building and step out onto the street. It's a rainy day in Seattle, like every other goddamn rainy day in Seattle.

You pull your jacket closer around you, it's cold too. The metal plates hidden in your jacket clink gently against your pistols holstered at your ribs. You're ready to pull this job off and get paid.

People rush back and forth, trying to stay dry. You laugh at them and take your time. You arrive at the diner exactly on time and take a seat at a table.

You order a coffee and a plate of french fries without looking at the waiter. He scurries off. Exactly five minutes later a man walks in and sits down at your table, you know him as your contact, the Mr. Johnson.

He smiles at you and sets his briefcase down. He is an elf, his slight frame and angular face (oh, and the pointy ears) make this obvious, and he does not hide it.

"Today is a special day, a day of resolution for my employer. You know what has to be done, and now you have everything you need to do it." he continues to smile. He has a chilling stare, he's all business and he means to have you kill a man.

You say nothing back, your coffee and fries arrive. You take a fry, pop it in your mouth, and leave with the briefcase.