Bollocks, he'd been wrong. It might have been the hunger, or it might have been a simple musinderstanding, but Maxim had rode into town like a hellion, brandishing his sword, and frightening the hell out of a group of local farmers. So much for winning the trust and gratitude of the locals. Luckily, he had experience with these sorts of incidents, having run with a gang of Estalian highwaymen for a number of years in his early adulthood, and Maxim was able to bluff his way out of the encounter with only a small amount of total embarrassment. Sheathing his sabre, he headed towards the large central building that he assumed was a tavern of some sort, intent on spending a handful of the assorted coins he had left. The settlement was a large one, and he figured he might be able to find somebody who'd pay him to do their dirty work.<br/><br/>Even if he failed, it was worth a try - and, hey, at least he'd get some food out of the deal.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>