conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: tynam: You have heard that the village of Westlake has been employing a steady supply of mercenaries recently, and have decided to see for yourself what the unrest was all about. You visit the local tavern, The Battered Baldric, and overhear various rumors surrounding the current events of Westlake.
  
  You quickly discover that Westlake is being plagued by goblins bandits along the trade roads. Although normally a nuisance at best, these bandits appear to be much more cunning and organized than the average goblin threat – avoiding well guarded caravans and pillaging the rest. The Marshal of Westlake himself has been thwarted time and time again when attempting to eradicate the goblins – whenever the militia is deployed the goblins are nowhere to be seen.
  
  You also notice a small cork board mounted on a wall that is filled with postings from various traders and merchants seeking bodyguards. An official looking notice is also posted – something about the Marshal offering a large reward for those that can cure him of his goblin headache. A large crowd surrounds the postings however, so it is difficult to get a closer look.
  
  COMMON KNOWLEDGE
  
  Westlake is a fairly large agricultural village, famous for producing the best beer in the land (so it’s said). The landscape is idyllic and peaceful, with rolling green hills and golden fields of barley. A lake that is Westlake’s namesake feeds the farms nearby. Although primarily populated by humans, due to the prosperous trade that goes through the village the more exotic races aren’t an uncommon sight.
  The mountain range known as the Giant’s Playground lie far to the northwest, the Seventh Sea to the south, a vast tract of forests to the west and the greater part of the Brennor Kingdom to the east (which Westlake is technically a part of). The land is known as Erathia, in the world known as Septus.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Hyozo: Llewellyn, noticing the crowd of people around the corkboard, decides to take a seat and see if it clears up soon. In the mean time he'll look over the crowd, wondering who among them may be potential allies should he take one of the posted jobs.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yuki Akuma: Domino has been sitting in a corner for quite some time. She's not concealed by shadows - this tavern is pretty well-lit - but no one seems to be paying any attention to her. Which is weird, considering how little she's wearing - does that even count as  armour ? You'd think a bikini top would be too little...
  
  She's currently picking her nails with a dagger, her yellow, catlike eyes focused entirely on her task so she doesn't cut herself.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: tynam: A short stocky man shoves past the crowd in front of the board and slams on another posting. With a quick glare about him he shoves his way back out, winding his way through the tables as he heads towards the bar.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Hyozo: Llewellyn isn't exactly focused, but he's not so inattentive that he won't notice this as a potential chance to learn the specifics without pushing through the crowd himself. When the man (dwarf? Llewellyn can probably tell, but it's up to you) takes a seat, Llewellyn will approach him and ask " More goblin problems? "
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: tynam: The man is a fairly well built human, about 5'5" with a perpetual scowl. He glances at Llewellyn and mutters something under his breath before taking a long pull on the mug of frothy ale in front of him.
  
  "Yeah, goblins. We're looking for a few more sellswords to join our caravan before we head towards Virundan."
  
  The man lets out a loud belch and takes another long swig of the ale before continuing.
  
  "The last crew we hired ran away the moment the goblins showed up, buncha babies. We had to leave our cargo behind and flee, an entire stock of Westlake Lager left behind!" He slams the empty mug of ale down on the bar angrily and motions the barkeep for another.
  
  He then suddenly seems to notice the bearing and equipment of the eladrin before him and sizes Llewellyn up. His eyes seem to linger on the old military badge with interest.
  
  "You look like the kind that has seen some action before. Interested in some work?"
  
  
  
  [COMMON KNOWLEDGE]
  Virundan is a small trade town located about 10 days distance to the northeast.
  
  [PASSIVE PERCEPTION CHECK]
  Llewellyn: You notice that the man wears a small silver pin on the collar of his tunic. You immediately recognize it as a symbol of the Merchant's Guild of Virundan - a highly reputed group of merchants.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Hyozo: " I would certainly be willing to provide what help I can. " He replies with a slight nod.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: tynam: The man gives a toothy smile, the first time he hasn't scowled since he entered the tavern.
  
  "The name's Marek. Marek Graylock of the Virundan Merchant Guild," he says with a quick handshake.
  
  "We leave tomorrow at noon. The pay is 120 gold upon arrival at Virundan, if the cargo gets there safely," he says, then seems to struggle a bit with himself as he continues. His smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
  
  "And another 10 gold for every goblin you kill along the way. I'll be damned if that wasn't incentive enough to stick around and actually guard the caravan this time around," he mutters as if the necessity for additional payment physically pained him. It probably did.
  
  "Hopefully we can find a couple others that aren't afraid of a little blood until tomorrow. Any questions?"