A pub in Caemlyn

[bloody_luck]

Mat was hiding as best he could in his mug of ale. He'd had to get rid of his hat as it had become too bloody distinctive. Stories about the bloody invincible and amazing Lord Mat Bloody Cauthon had been making their way through town and as the gholem, judging by the mysterious death rumors that were also percolating, was also not bloody dead, Mat was not looking to be recognized, thank you very much.

Thom came in and grabbed a seat next to him. "If it isn't the amazing General--"

"Shhhhhhhhh," Mat said, waving his hand frantically at him. "I don't want anyone to recognize me."

"You're turning down free drinks?" Thom asked, arching an eyebrow. "That doesn't seem like you."

"The gholem's in town," Mat said. "I'm certain of it. And we can't go on your bloody adventure and leave that around to kill Elay-- Brig-- ...people."

"You're allowed to admit to caring for people," Thom said, looking amused.

"Not where other people can bloody hear it, I can't," Mat said, finishing his drink and signalling for another. "I have a plan--"

And he laid it out for Thom, whose bushy eyebrows were back up toward his receding hairline.

"Even with your luck--" he finally muttered.

"It'll work," Mat said, draining his new drink as it arrived. "It bloody has to."