<div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/trev_portrait.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Trevoby Flintwood<br/><strong>Race and Occupation:</strong>Human, Blacksmith<br/><strong>Location &amp; Time:</strong>Adventurer's Office, Job Board - Late Afternoon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Gatura, Mizuki, Marixsa<br/><hr/><br/>That blasted bluberous bastard Hansel. He tried to make it sound like a sweet deal, going on this quest. "What ho, m'boy, don't you want to end your shift early?" he had boomed, mustache quivering with his heavy breath. "Surely you can handle the adventurer's office! Now stop messing with that knife and go register our quest!"<br/><br/>Trevoby's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his blade. It felt a bit too loose. He tested it, but Hansel had driven him in a rush to complete it. The older blacksmith insisted Trevoby might was well just use his hammer, and no doubt he'd keep it on hand, but if he was going to be spelunking in those abandoned mine tunnels he wanted a proper<em>weapon</em>, not a tool.<br/><br/>His other hand then immediately went to the head of his hammer, petting it, as if to apologize for disrespecting it.<br/><br/>After what felt like an entire day cycle in that office just to register his quest, Trevoby was outside. His quest had the official Office Sanctioned Seal of Trust, noting that they were familiar with Hansel and Trev, and that they were reliable quest givers. After all, you didn't want to go hunt down those rabbit's feet only for the kindly young woman to be a witch looking to eat you afterwards, right? Or Trevoby believed he heard about one time.<br/><br/>Whatever. He sighed at the crowd gathered in front of the "board", a rather large wall dedicated to hosting quests of all kinds. The higher ranked end of the board was more bare, all but abandoned by adventurer's, with a larger crowd amassing towards D and E ranks. With a heavy sigh Trevoby withdrew his hammer and stepped forward, pressing the mallet to the heads and faces of many adventurers, shoving them aside, ignoring the many threats thrown his way. Many of them would recognize him as an employee of the Smithy, which meant they relied on him to repair their equipment and purchase new gear. They'd hate him, but he could live with that. On occasion he'd flip his hammer around, using the handle to lift up a leather-pleated skirt or two, a move that not only got the female adventurer ducking out of the way, but distracted the male adventurers eager for a peek.<br/><br/>Finally he reached the F-Rank portion, momentarily distracted by what appeared to be a female form with cat ears and tail. He twirled the heavy mallet in his fingers for a moment, eyeing her, trying to decide on his next course of action. Finally, with a sigh and a shrug, he gripped a nail from his waist pouch and placed it between his teeth as he slipped his hammer handle back through his belt loop. He ignored the androgynous shape of the cloaked figure and walked right to the large, hunched man, his hands immediately finding handholds on the man's shoulder and head.<br/><br/>"Thanks man," he said, nail caught in grit teeth. "Just stay there for a sec, and..." Hoisting his leg up, Trevoby climbed up onto the large, dark-skinned man's back, then up to his shoulders, seating himself upon the strong adventurer. Pulling out his hammer in his right hand and slipping the rolled up job notice from his pocket, he unfurled the parchment, flattened it to the board, and removed the nail from his teeth. Pounding once, twice, thrice, he swiftly got the job posted, spun around on the large man's shoulders, and dropped back down to the ground. Clapping his leather gloves and placing the hammer back, he patted the big man on the back. "Thanks again!" he said, admiring his optimal placement of the job posting.