Once it was clear that Horse and Jenny would have a comfortable place in the stables, Skharr followed the innkeeper's instructions to the outskirts of the town where the guild’s sigil was raised above a simple log house. The structure wasn’t remotely comparable to the kind of Guild Halls he had seen in the past, but at the same time, the village was the smallest settlement of civilization he'd ever seen have a Guild Hall of its own.
Unsurprisingly, simplicity defined the building. Once they were inside, his focus was immediately drawn to a massive fire burning in the center of the room. Smoke and embers rose through a hole in the ceiling.
The building had a few elevated stories where a few rooms had been set up, but it looked like most of the business went through a single desk on the far side of the room. It was probably a good thing that very little work took place. A handful of mercenaries were clustered around one of the tables near the fire, and while they cast their gazes to see who the new arrivals were, they weren't overly interested.
The barbarian strode immediately to the table of the guildmaster, whose nose was buried in a stack of papers. The man had difficulty reading through them and had to peer through a pince-nez and squint to see anything. He had the look of a former warrior himself, although many years in his past. His head was bald and his chin clean-shaven, which left his thick, bushy eyebrows as the only hair on his head as he focused on the new arrival.
"More fighters coming along this way, eh?" he grunted. "Chano is the name, and they call me guildmaster around these parts. If you look for work, find it on the board above. If anything interests you, come to me for the contract."
He recited the words in a practiced manner and delivered them quickly despite his heavy accent while he returned his attention to his papers. It took a moment before the reality of what he’d seen finally penetrated and his gaze shifted to stare at the massive warrior framed against the firelight. The guildmaster's eyes almost bulged and his pince-nez dropped from its perch.
"I say…are…are you… You would not happen to be Skharr DeathEater, would you?"
The barbarian smirked as he approached the board where the contracts were posted. "I suppose many barbarians look like me. But yes, that is the name that I am known by, among others."
"The other name known is the fucking Barbarian of Theros." The guildmaster stood. He wasn't a tall man but he possessed a stocky build that made him look like there might have been a trace of dwarf in his blood as well.
Brahgen leaned against the table. "He is well-known, then? I thought his legends didn't go much farther than the civilized world."
"Maybe not among the common folk, but much has been said about your travel companion among the fighters for hire on the continent."
"What kind of stories? I've heard the one about how he killed a dragon to bring the emperor to his throne."
"I didn't kill the dragon," Skharr corrected them, his focus fixed on the board. "I ran away from it, to be honest. Survived a dragon, I suppose you could say."
"That is as may be, but we all know ballads have a tendency toward exaggeration," the guildmaster replied. "Not much in the godsbedammed world can kill a dragon aside from magic. And even then, I've seen powerful spells strike the scales and simply bounce off. But, no. The stories I heard were a little more interesting, although perhaps not the kind to sing about. How he would take coin from ladies of the city of Verenvan to abuse their less desirable suitors. Of course, as the tales go, he is known to take a little more than coin."
"What do you…oh. I see." Brahgen narrowed his eyes and looked at his companion. "Is that true? I didn't think ladies had a taste for that kind of…well your kind of… Never mind."
"I couldn't tell you if I wanted to," the barbarian answered cryptically. "And I wouldn't want tales of how I take payment for my services to have any credibility."
"That means yes," the guildmaster whispered. "Still, the genuinely interesting tale was when one of those suitors decided he wanted to marry the woman regardless. She had other plans, of course. Skharr had beaten the man before, but the tale being woven was that his feat was not quite as impressive as all that. I forget what excuses the lordling supposedly wove, but come time for the marriage, the bride invited Skharr to the ceremony and after it was completed, he dueled her new spouse again, killed him, and left the lady in possession of her late husband's estate. It reputedly angered most of the underworld of the city enough that they put all their resources out to kill him. I think we know how that worked out for the sodden fools, wouldn't you say?"
The guildmaster chuckled and returned to his papers before he saw the conflicted expression slide across the dwarf’s face. Skharr wondered if that meant the boy had never heard the full story of what happened and only been given scant details from the perspective of those who were likely to not see it in a positive light.
"How did he think he would get away with spreading that kind of rumor?" Brahgen asked.
"Well, I suppose the man has a certain nature about him. It makes folk underestimate him."
"Have you seen him?"
"He’s physically imposing, yes, but there is something about him that leads one to think he is a little slow on an intellectual level."
"An idea I have consistently taken advantage of," Skharr interjected. It was a little annoying to be spoken of as if he weren’t in the room, but it was something folk had started to do a little more often lately. He would have to put a stop to that.
"Right." Chano cleared his throat and shook his head. "Did you find anything you think you'd like to take on?"
"Aye," the barbarian answered. "There is mention of a dungeon on the Island of the Groll Oak Orcs. It seems like the kind of battle that would fill our time to our advantage."
"Aye. You'll need supplies for the journey as well. Not to mention transportation to the island itself. It is a little too far to swim. Perhaps much too far to swim."
He nodded. "Would we be able to buy the supplies here?"
"Most of them, provided you have your weapons and armor. You won't find any of quality for sale around these parts."
“We have our weapons and armor, for the most part. What kind of orcs live in the region?"
"A handful of fishing tribes and few others. The isle is said to have been home to a coven of emerald hags and the orcs generally stay away from the center of the island where the dungeon is found. The tunnels are said to be too small for the full-sized creatures, so only their youths venture in and then only in shallow delves."
"Hags are nasty, fiercely intelligent, and with an uncanny grasp of the magical elements." Skharr shook his head. "I tangled with one who was abandoned by her coven in a swamp a few years ago. I've never thought I might have to face a full coven."
"And if you're lucky, you won't have to." The guildmaster chuckled. "All we know is that there are rumors of their presence and nothing else. Of course, rumors come from somewhere, so you might encounter them, if not worse. And the guild would need to know what is present on that fucking island."
The barbarian nodded and looked at his companion. "How is your orcish?"