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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Forged Fury" data-source="post: 6676445" data-attributes="member: 95059">Damien sat at the far end of the bar next to the wall, sipping from his skin of red wine. In the inside pocket of his cloak, he could feel Nicodemus squirming in sleep. With his back to the bar, he took in the rest of the room. The tavern area of the Red Larch Tavern-Hall of the Adventurer's Guild was only modestly full today. The man had heard rumors that most of the Gold-tier members were away on assignments. As a Silver-tier member, he was respected, but only so much. At least I'm not still a Copper, dreadful life that...Craning his neck around, Damien caught sight of Barnaby, the bar back. In his smooth, charismatic tone, the warlock said, "I say, Barnaby?" The young boy jumped at the request. He always seemed a little uneasy around Damien."Uh... yes, sir?" the boy responded."You spend your days performing drudgery around the Tavern-Hall." Smoothly moving past the insult, Damien continued, "Surely you must pick up on at least some things here and there. Have you heard of any contracts that may be coming open soon?""I wouldn't really know about that, sir," he responded. "But there has been a contract posted for some time for Gold-tier members that was just taken down an hour ago. Rumor has it that they're short-handed and about to offer it to anyone willing to accept it. Something about a missing caravan."With a gleam in his eye, Damien thanked the boy and handed him his empty wine-skin. Rising from the bar, he made his way to the door leading into the interior hallway that connected the tavern to the administrative areas of the Tavern-Hall. Seeing the coast was clear, Damien invoked an illusory change. Any eyes that spotted him at this point would only see Barnaby. With the boy's voice and mannerisms in mind, he approached the small administrative contracts office and knocked on the door. "Hello sir, it's Barnaby. I was told to see if you needed any assistance with anything."An officious looking clerk, whose name escaped Damien at the moment, opened the door and thrust out an official looking notice. "Post this in the taproom," the clerk said before slamming the door closed. Examining the notice, the warlock was nearly giddy to see the notice was for the contract Barnaby had mentioned. Excellent, he thought, barely keeping himself from cackling evilly. Reading through the notice, he paused at the mention of a 'Mote of Elemental Earth' before making his mark on the notice and returning to the tavern. Prior to entering, he dispelled his illusion. Walking up to the Notice Board, he tacked the paper to the cork board and returned to the spot he had recently vacated at the bar.Let the others fight over the remaining spots. I, for one, will be going on this little adventure.</blockquote>

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