Prophet turns to see Rex, and once he recognizes him, he steps forward with a laugh and claps his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Rex! Glad to see you, boy. What brings you--" He pauses at his old companion's question, and glances around. "Let's talk somewhere quieter."
The half-orc guides the wiry youth to an out-of-the-way spot, whether inside the dining hall or in a corner of the trading post, and looks him over. "Good to see you in one piece. Sorry about the secrecy and all, but, well... These folks don't exactly know what I used to do. And I guess you don't know what it is I do now." He fishes in his sack for a moment and pulls out the charter. "Look it over, kid. Guess you win that bet with Skinner--I've gone legit." Then he coughs and shrugs. "Well, sort of, anyway. Not like I actually got handed that paper, but it says whoever has it, so I figure it's good enough. And if it gets me safe land and good gold, well, maybe I'll shove Hanhar here up the Stag Bugger's arse after all. I can watch after my own head."
Once Rex hands the charter back, Prophet carefully rolls it up again and sticks it in his bag. "So what brings you here, Rex? Ain't exactly the kind of place you can rob all on your onesie."