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<blockquote data-quote="Insight" data-source="post: 3761057" data-attributes="member: 11437">[sblock=Group 1]Isphet smiles, watching the tavern for signs of life -- or perhaps an opportunity.&nbsp; &quot;I don't know if working for the city guard is what I had in mind.&nbsp; The hours are long, and the pay is a pittance.&quot;&quot;This plague, or curse, whatever it may be... it concerns me greatly.&nbsp; Still, I am stuck here in Majoor, and as you both know, I have a debt to repay.&nbsp; If I am stuck here, I wonder if there is an opportunity in attempting to care for the poor.&nbsp; Not that I am much of a healer, mind you.&nbsp; But people are going to be worried about this plague, and there might be coin to be had in trying to heal people.&quot;&quot;I've heard tell of traveling peddlers visiting town beset with plague and offering a cure-all that may or may not work.&nbsp; Now, that's an idea.&quot;Isphet watches as a pair of guardsmen enter the tavern.&nbsp; &quot;But perhaps charlatanry is unwarranted at this time.&nbsp; Your plan may work, Droban.&nbsp; I suppose it doesn't hurt to inquire.&quot;Isphet smirks at the dwarf's impatience.&nbsp; The moneylender pays for the remainder of the tab and scurries after Droban and Avardis. ***&quot;Ah, new recruits,&quot; Chief Jobbor says in response to Droban's hasty inquiry.&nbsp; &quot;But it is hot in here.&nbsp; 'Tis as if Amum himself were breathing down my neck.&quot;&nbsp; The massive man, whose chain mail shirt could surely coat two normal-sized folk, gets up from his chair and, knees crackling, waddles to the window, whereupon the adjacent shelf, Chief Jobbor gets a pitcher of water and a cup.&nbsp; He turns to look upon Droban, Isphet, and Avardis, then pours himself some water.&quot;Yeah, we are always looking for fresh meat... I mean, hehe...&quot;&nbsp; Jobbor watches the responses in the applicants.&nbsp; &quot;What I mean to say is... new recruits.&nbsp; I hope you know what you're getting into.&nbsp; Ya see, well, I mean that, you sorta... don't really look the type to be guards.&nbsp; Maybe the dwarf.&quot;Jobbor waddles back to his simple chair and grabs a parchment and a quill.&nbsp; &quot;Names?&quot;[/sblock]</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Insight, post: 3761057, member: 11437"] [sblock=Group 1] Isphet smiles, watching the tavern for signs of life -- or perhaps an opportunity. "I don't know if working for the city guard is what I had in mind. The hours are long, and the pay is a pittance." "This plague, or curse, whatever it may be... it concerns me greatly. Still, I am stuck here in Majoor, and as you both know, I have a debt to repay. If I am stuck here, I wonder if there is an opportunity in attempting to care for the poor. Not that I am much of a healer, mind you. But people are going to be worried about this plague, and there might be coin to be had in trying to heal people." "I've heard tell of traveling peddlers visiting town beset with plague and offering a cure-all that may or may not work. Now, that's an idea." Isphet watches as a pair of guardsmen enter the tavern. "But perhaps charlatanry is unwarranted at this time. Your plan may work, Droban. I suppose it doesn't hurt to inquire." Isphet smirks at the dwarf's impatience. The moneylender pays for the remainder of the tab and scurries after Droban and Avardis. *** [color=orange]"Ah, new recruits,"[/color] Chief Jobbor says in response to Droban's hasty inquiry. [color=orange]"But it is hot in here. 'Tis as if Amum himself were breathing down my neck."[/color] The massive man, whose chain mail shirt could surely coat two normal-sized folk, gets up from his chair and, knees crackling, waddles to the window, whereupon the adjacent shelf, Chief Jobbor gets a pitcher of water and a cup. He turns to look upon Droban, Isphet, and Avardis, then pours himself some water. [color=orange]"Yeah, we are always looking for fresh meat... I mean, hehe..."[/color] Jobbor watches the responses in the applicants. [color=orange]"What I mean to say is... new recruits. I hope you know what you're getting into. Ya see, well, I mean that, you sorta... don't really look the type to be guards. Maybe the dwarf."[/color] Jobbor waddles back to his simple chair and grabs a parchment and a quill. [color=orange]"Names?"[/color] [/sblock] [/QUOTE]

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