It was a hot morning in Era. It was the kind of dry, heavy heat the made patience run short and tempers run high. It was a bad morning to be stuck in a crowded municipal court building with a broken air conditioning unit. Unfortunately for a certain young bounty hunter, that's exactly where he was that day. Like a lot of other men on that day the scruffy looking young gun sat impatiently in one of the many rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs that lined waiting room as he waited for his number to be called.
“Number 43...” came the voice of a bored sounding woman over the intercom to which the he would only react with one word.
“Finally.”
The young man got up from his seat, adjusted his hat and made sauntered over to the booth where the poorly paid government workers conducted their business from behind magic proof glass. The person who'd be helping him taking care of business that day was a portly old lady, with gray curly hair and almost comically large glasses.
“Howdy ma'am,” greeted the bounty hunter.
The older lady merely looked at him with one possibly the most apathetic gaze he'd ever witnessed in his life and without missing a beat responded in the same bored, monotone sounding voice earlier.
“Name and ID sir.”
The gunslinger slipped his wizard identification card through the glass to the older woman. The decrepit looking old dame looked it looked at the card, pulled information up on the computer screen in front of her and then looked back up at him.
“Jeremy Filth. D class wizard specializing in gun magic. Is that correct?” she asked.
“Yes ma'am,” nodded Jeremy.
“What can I do for you Mr. Filth?”
Jeremy handed the woman a wanted posted. On it, printed in big bold letters were the word Wanted Alive: Bubba Ray. Reward: $500.
“I need an arrest warrant.”
“I see...” the woman's voice trailed off as she examined the poster and looked back at her computer screen. After a moment of this she pulled some fancy looking papers out of a drawer stamped them and handed them back to Jeremy along with his identification card and the poster.
“Here you go Mr. Filth.” she said “You're all set. When you catch him bring him to the nearest court house or police station to receive your payment. Good luck on your job.”
“Thank you ma'am.”
Jeremy tipped his hat and walked out of the municipal court building with a smile in his face. There were very few things in life that gave that man more joy than getting paid to go hunting.
“Number 43...” came the voice of a bored sounding woman over the intercom to which the he would only react with one word.
“Finally.”
The young man got up from his seat, adjusted his hat and made sauntered over to the booth where the poorly paid government workers conducted their business from behind magic proof glass. The person who'd be helping him taking care of business that day was a portly old lady, with gray curly hair and almost comically large glasses.
“Howdy ma'am,” greeted the bounty hunter.
The older lady merely looked at him with one possibly the most apathetic gaze he'd ever witnessed in his life and without missing a beat responded in the same bored, monotone sounding voice earlier.
“Name and ID sir.”
The gunslinger slipped his wizard identification card through the glass to the older woman. The decrepit looking old dame looked it looked at the card, pulled information up on the computer screen in front of her and then looked back up at him.
“Jeremy Filth. D class wizard specializing in gun magic. Is that correct?” she asked.
“Yes ma'am,” nodded Jeremy.
“What can I do for you Mr. Filth?”
Jeremy handed the woman a wanted posted. On it, printed in big bold letters were the word Wanted Alive: Bubba Ray. Reward: $500.
“I need an arrest warrant.”
“I see...” the woman's voice trailed off as she examined the poster and looked back at her computer screen. After a moment of this she pulled some fancy looking papers out of a drawer stamped them and handed them back to Jeremy along with his identification card and the poster.
“Here you go Mr. Filth.” she said “You're all set. When you catch him bring him to the nearest court house or police station to receive your payment. Good luck on your job.”
“Thank you ma'am.”
Jeremy tipped his hat and walked out of the municipal court building with a smile in his face. There were very few things in life that gave that man more joy than getting paid to go hunting.
Last edited by Filth on 6th June 2017, 5:41 pm; edited 1 time in total