Name: Vincent Thaler
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Description: 5’11”, with short cropped, light brown hair, and olive skin tone. With green eyes, He is mostly seen wearing the guardsman uniform of grey-iron chainmail, though he has added metal plates added to the chest, back and the joints. The front has a gryphon emblem, and a tower on the back.
Occupation: Temrin Guard Captain
Intro Post:
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Description: 5’11”, with short cropped, light brown hair, and olive skin tone. With green eyes, He is mostly seen wearing the guardsman uniform of grey-iron chainmail, though he has added metal plates added to the chest, back and the joints. The front has a gryphon emblem, and a tower on the back.
Occupation: Temrin Guard Captain
Intro Post:
It was a cloudy morning. Temrin’s population was in no hurry to wake up. A few people trickled out of their homes, preparing for the lull that accompanied your typical work day. In the newly finished garden district, tradesmen and merchants shuffled out of recently constructed cottages that encircled the small park that had been erected at the center of what was once an ash laden crater. Dew glistened on the flower petals and bush leaves that had been planted along the park’s edges. Trees rustled at a mild breeze as men and women gradually made their way around the wooded area along the cobblestone pathways.
Robins and Jays fluttered through the thin branches of young trees while pigeons skittered from one clay roof shingle to the next. A woman poked her head out from a balcony to hang the morning’s wash, while her husband pushed his way out the door below. The heavyset man carried a small leather sack on his back that matched his boots. The smooth handles of well-used tools poked up from his belt. He looked over the horizon of buildings just in front of him and spotted his destination. A high scaffolding was erected just a few blocks from where he lived. It had been a year and a half, but there was still plenty of work that needed doing.
A man bumped into the worker, causing him to lose his balance.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” the carpenter spat.
“Sorry,” the man said, but he didn’t look up. His clothes were patchy, and the leather he wore over them was dry and cracked. A small sword hung from one side of his belt; he rubbed anxiously at the cross guard. A heavy travel sack weighed him down, and a bottle filled with some indiscriminate liquid was clenched tightly in his fist. Thaler took a heavy swallow.
“Fuck you,” the worker said, and kept walking.
Thaler ignored the comment and continued forward. He weaved through the new part of town with a lazy familiarity. He had been a voice in the early part of the planning, so he knew it well. His destination was a particular piece of property that sat on the corner of a four way intersection a few blocks from the park. His one boon for fifteen years of hard service.
The building was larger than most in the vicinity. It stood at least a story higher than the next tallest. A simple balcony jutted out from the middle floor and overhung a small section of the street. It had three main components on the outside portion of it. To one side was a compound stable, just large enough to house three or four horses within the limits of the street. The other side had a small basement entrance, with a shallow staircase leading down to an unassuming door. Lastly, in the front, a set of double doors stood facing the street corner. Above it in simple black script were the words The Silver Dagger.
Thaler reached the entrance and eyed a note sticking out of an aperture in the doorway. He took another swallow from his bottle and unfolded the note.
He turned the note over and found just such a flyer.
Thaler smiled. The flyer was short but to the point. It wasn’t much to go by, but it was bound to at least get interest from somebody. It hadn’t been long ago since he had chosen Brint to be the new leader of the Silver Dagger, but so far he had not disappointed. Then again, he hasn’t really had the chance to be.
The former captain of Temrin’s guard crumpled up the flyer, took a swig of his drink, and walked inside.
Robins and Jays fluttered through the thin branches of young trees while pigeons skittered from one clay roof shingle to the next. A woman poked her head out from a balcony to hang the morning’s wash, while her husband pushed his way out the door below. The heavyset man carried a small leather sack on his back that matched his boots. The smooth handles of well-used tools poked up from his belt. He looked over the horizon of buildings just in front of him and spotted his destination. A high scaffolding was erected just a few blocks from where he lived. It had been a year and a half, but there was still plenty of work that needed doing.
A man bumped into the worker, causing him to lose his balance.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” the carpenter spat.
“Sorry,” the man said, but he didn’t look up. His clothes were patchy, and the leather he wore over them was dry and cracked. A small sword hung from one side of his belt; he rubbed anxiously at the cross guard. A heavy travel sack weighed him down, and a bottle filled with some indiscriminate liquid was clenched tightly in his fist. Thaler took a heavy swallow.
“Fuck you,” the worker said, and kept walking.
Thaler ignored the comment and continued forward. He weaved through the new part of town with a lazy familiarity. He had been a voice in the early part of the planning, so he knew it well. His destination was a particular piece of property that sat on the corner of a four way intersection a few blocks from the park. His one boon for fifteen years of hard service.
The building was larger than most in the vicinity. It stood at least a story higher than the next tallest. A simple balcony jutted out from the middle floor and overhung a small section of the street. It had three main components on the outside portion of it. To one side was a compound stable, just large enough to house three or four horses within the limits of the street. The other side had a small basement entrance, with a shallow staircase leading down to an unassuming door. Lastly, in the front, a set of double doors stood facing the street corner. Above it in simple black script were the words The Silver Dagger.
Thaler reached the entrance and eyed a note sticking out of an aperture in the doorway. He took another swallow from his bottle and unfolded the note.
Vincent, a case came up early this morning. I’m heading out to investigate it, so I was hoping you could watch things while I’m out. I’ve had no responses to the flyers I sent out, but I’m sure something will come around soon. Not sure when I’ll be back.
-Jalen Brint
-Jalen Brint
He turned the note over and found just such a flyer.
Help Wanted!
Full time positions being offered for those willing and able to investigate and tackle problems of a supernatural persuasion.
If interested, please contact either Vincent Thaler or Jalen Brint at the Silver Dagger building just north of the Garden District.
Guild Master
Jalen Brint
Full time positions being offered for those willing and able to investigate and tackle problems of a supernatural persuasion.
If interested, please contact either Vincent Thaler or Jalen Brint at the Silver Dagger building just north of the Garden District.
Guild Master
Jalen Brint
Thaler smiled. The flyer was short but to the point. It wasn’t much to go by, but it was bound to at least get interest from somebody. It hadn’t been long ago since he had chosen Brint to be the new leader of the Silver Dagger, but so far he had not disappointed. Then again, he hasn’t really had the chance to be.
The former captain of Temrin’s guard crumpled up the flyer, took a swig of his drink, and walked inside.