"The ol' wizard up in that tower? You sure? Wizards are a queer folk. Maybe he's just a shut in." his friend responds back.
"Nahhh, see here, my beau down at the general store says he comes in at least once a week for groceries. She says she hasn't seen Axon in a good month now." The original stallion replies back.
Unbeknownst to the stallions, a mare sitting at a nearby table ear's perked up. The mare's fur was a pale peach color, and her unkempt mane was the color of a freshly cut melon. She wore traveling gear that, while it looked warm and had many pockets and bags, was undeniably worn in places and would probably soon need patching. Oddly, the mare has carried a shovel, which she had leaned against the table she was sitting at. The mare named Lockepicke shifted her chair slightly so as to listen in on the conversation better.
Originally she had came into this bar to forget the sorrows. Her chosen profession had been quite unprofitable as of late, and a night of heavy drinking in a loud bar sounded like just the ticket. Lockepicke's profession? Well, some called her a "grave robber", and in some circles she was a "thief". However the word she preferred was "treasure hunter". It had a nice ring to it. If this wizard really had passed, it might be a good idea to have a look through his stuff. Magic folk always had such nice, expensive things.
An hour or so later Lockepicke stepped out of the bar with a smile. The first bar she entered in this town she didn't even know the name of, and she may already have a lead. Maybe her luck has turned around!