Hunters Needed in the Western Heartlands (IC Thread)

[Verbatim]

The man strode through the sparse early evening crowd of the inn and tacked a worn piece of paper onto the center post. He had a simple look to him, making the plain sword on his belt seem out of place on his side, but it was not hard to imagine him swinging a logger's axe or holding the reins to a team of oxen. Looking around at the crowd once more, his deep voice waivered a little as he spoke to the crowd.

"We need some help and I will be leaving in the morning. I won't be asking any questions of those who come with me, but don't mistake need for foolishness."

Walking out the door, the man nodded once to the innkeeper and then was gone.

[sblock=Poster notice]Hunters needed to assist the constable of Aulbesmil. Pay to be based on experience and assistance provided.[/sblock]

 

[xmanii]

Looking up from his ale, Khondar watches the man tack the paper to the pole. Finishing his ale, he gets up from his stool, and heads to the pole, and reads it.
Brushing past the people in the inn none to gently, Khondar ambles towards the door, exclaiming loudly, "Out of me way, this dwarf be having a job to do!"

 

[hippocrachus]

Albion stepped into the pub in Daggerford with a chip on his shoulder and the hope of finding a cool drink next to a warm fire alone. Daggerford was just a quick stop on the long road of discovery; those thugs down the road made the reality of Albion's need to move on a deadly truth.
"What'll ye have?" the gruff barmaid asked, eyeing the fresh cut on his check warily.
"Something cold, please." He tried not to notice the stares…too much. Not taking notice of the crowd's interest could make you a dead man in a blink.
"You fall off your horse or something?" she questioned, his pleasant manner giving her confidence in being forward with him. He was probably just some fool merchant that didn’t know his way around a town like Daggerford.
"Or something," he said with a wink - and a scowl when she turned, grinning ear to ear.
It'll be a few years before I can be seen again on the Sword Coast. The Wizards were just as clueless as the Mystra goons. Either that or they’re not telling me something... Albion looked around at the clientele under furrowed brows. How did they catch up to me so fast? I was careful. Maybe too careful. Often times, being too careful could get you killed just as fast as not being careful enough; it was like balancing on a dagger point. Asking questions always was. The waitress ambled back over with a big mug of lager.
"Four copper," she said definitively.
"Could I convince you to give me a discount? My horse was just stolen…" he aimed a hopeful grin and held the glint in his eye off until the woman looked over her shoulder.
"Three copper; but only 'cause I think yer cute." She tried her hand at a seductive wink and failed miserably. Albion just opened his mouth and feigned an intrigued laugh.
A few minutes passed before a meaty fellow strolled through the commonroom of the inn and gave a concise invite, most likely to some backwater farming village, to do some grunt work.
A dwarf volunteered immediately. Not too surprisingly.
I could use some muscle and a place to stay low for a little while... Albion thought, eyeing the interested crowd over his drink.

 

[hippocrachus]

Albion slid off of his bench by the fire and passed around the edge of the crowd reading the posted recruitment and listened to the exclamations the men made to hear the scoop. It was better than trying to get close to the pole to read it himself.
A constabulary couldn't have much use for my "experience," he thought, but maybe I can convince the lumberjack otherwise...
Albion hung around, listening a little longer, before he stepped outside and approached the seemingly uninterested constable.
"Daryc Himdahl, furniture merchant out of Luskan," he said, offering the large man a small but callused hand. "What troubles does Aulbesmil suffer from, sir?"

[sblock=OOC]Bluff +5
Gather Information +5[/sblock]

 

[Verbatim]

Albion hung around, listening a little longer, before he stepped outside and approached the seemingly uninterested constable.
"Daryc Himdahl, furniture merchant out of Luskan," he said, offering the large man a small but callused hand. "What troubles does Aulbesmil suffer from, sir?"[sblock=OOC]Bluff +5
Gather Information +5[/sblock]

Catching the man as he unhitched his mount, a plain looking workhorse with a simple saddle on it, Albion's alias flowed off his tongue with a practiced ease. Turning around and seeing the offered hand, the man shook it and Albion's hand felt as if it was encased in a living piece of oak.

"Sven Mortenson."

Releasing his handshake, the larger man looked over Albion's clothing for a moment before speaking again.

"I don't think we have much trade with Luskan Maestar Himdahl, don't think we have much trade outside of Daggerford to be honest, so you don't have to worry about losing any coins from us while you are in town. We have us a problem with wolves and while we know a thing or two about hunting, the simple fact is with harvest time coming, we have more pressing matters to deal with. However, the wolves don't seem to think we do."

Shrugging his shoulders slightly, Sven turns back to his mount and pulls it free from the hitching post.

"My advice to you sir would be to look for easier places to sell furniture, at least until we get this problem dealt with."

 

[hippocrachus]

Albion shook his hand behind his back once the tree man let him have it back.
The name alone could fell a spruce... he thought as Sven mentioned farms, a lack of trade, and the biggest problem in the area being wolves. Perfect.
"Not so, not so!" Albion exclaimed when Sven finished. "I'm looking to expand my trade. Something of an entreprenuer, you might say," he added with a wink. Big words tend to sell. You can't question a word you don't understand. "I'll love to take a look at Aulbesmil; I think it could be advantageous for the both of us..."
Seeing Sven might not have understood just how and didn't seem to be in the mood to give it much thought, Albion outlined it for him. A masterstroke.
"I can promise you, Sven, with a bit more notice, Aulbesmil's wolf problem could be eliminated completely. I can be the one to put Aulbesmil on the map!" But some smalltown folk don't like to hear talk like that, so Albion drove the point home. "I can bring merchants to Aulbesmil. Merchants don't like wolves much, so they'll bring guards..."
Albion stopped himself. Promising too much too soon would only make him sound like a smooth-talking city-slicker that doesn't care about anything but profit. It takes one to know one.
"I'd just like to help, Sven." Albion offered what he thought was a compassionate smile.

 

[industrygothica]

Riley gets up from his table and lets his glasses rest on the tip of his nose while he reads the notice. Interesting, he thinks as he pushes them back to their proper place and gives an approving nod to nobody in particular.

He notices the man talking with another outside, and decides to introduce himself.

"I'll go," he says simply. "Where should I meet you in the morning?"

 

[hippocrachus]

Albion spotted the holy symbol of Mystra before the young man even spoke. He seemed underwhelming for a priest...
I paid their "donation" fees! he thought, a little paranoid. The wizards in Luskan told him to seek the clergy of Mystra, who in turn charged him a hefty tithe for their services that revealed nothing. Revealed nothing to him anyway. He's too young to be an assassin.
Albion flashed a smile at the newcomer, hoping and waiting to hear acceptance from Sven.

 

[Verbatim]

As Sven pondered the merchant's words, Albion saw the other man approach and listened as the offer for help was echoed by another. Turning back to look at the Aulbesmil representative, he could tell that Sven wasn't impressed by the bookish man who stood before him.

"Forgive me for asking sir, but how much hunting have you ever done? Your hands look softer than my daughter's and she is but a bab still."

Turning to look at Albion, the man sighed once more.

"Maestar Himdahl not to be rude, but Aublesmil didn't send me to get them on the map, they sent me to help get rid of the wolves. If you can do that then maybe Constable Ghini will introduce you to people who speak your language. I can't promise anything, as she has only been in town a few months now and she hasn't exactly warmed herself up to us local folk yet."

 

[Majin]

The gaunt elf rode slowly through the village atop his raven-colored horse, a pair of freshly skinned furs drying behind its saddle. Scanning the square from beneath his closely drawn hood, red-irised eyes stared distrustfully, sizing up a pair of humans conversing outside the nearby tavern. As he rode closer he caught sight of a dwarf moving to intercept them as well.

Turning to regard this possible new threat, this new angle caused his vision to catch the glint of the sun through the branchs of a nearby cluster of trees. Shadowleaf flinched and turned his head sharply away, eyes squinting in pain as he muttered a curse under his breath. Halting his mount for a few moments, he chose to observe for awhile longer as his vision slowly returned to normal. He wished to find a tanner's somewhere so he could move on. Perhaps the group he spied could direct him, so he could leave all the sooner. He gathered his dark cloak around him tighter as he sat his saddle, waiting to make his move.