Zebanamana

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Emmerling smirked and stood himself up straight. His narrow eyes looked down on Mundy and the food on the table. “Hah! Perfect. I will get right to it.” He pulled from his coat pocket a piece of folded parchment and placed it on the desk before Mundy with a lingering stare awaiting his signature.

When Drek burst into the room, Emmerling gave him half a moment of consideration before scratching Rhubarb’s ear. “This one has had a bit to drink.” He said with a half tone voice.

“Don’t ya worry miss, I’m the finest carpenter in Fort Mundy,” he smiled to Lilith. “Of course by that, I mean I am the only one.”

As Mundy dismissed them, Emmerling waited a moment for his signature before snatching up and following the others out of the room and into the great hall.

“Oi! Doubled my share!” He shouted over the din, raising his contract in a fist above his head. A handful of the men gestured with respect. The rest looked away with resignation as they prepared for a day of hard work without the drunk. Emmerling’s shoulders rolled and he braced himself beneath the weight of the chest of carpenter’s tools on his back. Tools of an assortment that he had collected over the length of his life, through some hard work, but mostly diligent attendance to projects. “I’ll be back! Thomas you gotta fix the wall at some point. An’ Andrew, I think you should build them outhouses.”

Andrew gave a heavy sigh and Thomas leaned back in his chair with a smile on his face.

“So, is this some kind’ve failed guild eh?” Emmerling asked as he came up behind the bulk of the group.

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Emmerling mustered a grunt in response to Mundy, and stepped into the office scratching at his chin with a foul look on his face. His eyes looked over Lilith listlessly for a moment before he turned to Mundy.

“Mhm, yes business. This is business Mundy.” He smacked his palm and picked his teeth with his tongue, “Ya know, we lose more wood an’ we gotta cut some more pay. The men ain’t gonna be happy with that given that we’ve lost plenty of shipments already.”

Emmerling sniffed the air. The whiff of Mundy’s breakfast catching in his nose and roused hunger in his stomach once more. For a moment he gave a look as if he would be sick, but it passed. “The men already been yellin’ at me because there ain’t an outhouse for the latrine pits yet, but I can’t build any outhouses if we ain’t got any wood. Not to mention we are in the middle of dangerous woodland with a hole in our wall.” Emmerling huffed staring at Cliver then to Lilith. He adjusted his cap once more and nodded, “I ain’t ruining your guild, an’ I don’t want to lose wood ‘cause we are on commission. Pay should be straight coinage Mundy.” Emmerling looked at the boss with a tired expression.

He remembered the last wage cut. The men had been happy initially. Four men had been cut from the fort and everyone’s wages went up for some time, but their productivity had been slashed and Mundy had to reduce the daily wages for everyone below previous wages. There had been talks of mutiny, and Emmerling was the one who made the compromise with Mundy.

With a click of his tongue Emmerling declared, “I’ll take half pay and ya’ll match me so none of the men get angry bout no pay cuts. Then I’ll offer this guild my services till the debt is paid, put Thomas on wall duty. The boy’s gotta learn how to build a proper wall.” He took a sharp breath, "In exchange, my share in the company will be doubled."

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Emmerling Haust was a fat man. Around him was always a musk of liquor and beer from the stains that covered his clothing. Grease trickled through the straggle of beard on his chin as he tore apart helpings of sausages with savage abandon. Around him was a crowd of rabble rousers and woodsmen. A motley sort who loved to lie and tell tall tales.

“I’ll tell ya, that wolf wouldn’ve stood no chance if ole’ Emmerling was awake,” he pounded a flagon of beer on the table before him and pointed at the men around him. “Four flagons of beer! Ya’ll remember that! Four flagons an’ I still was able to put Thomas through the table!” The men around Emmerling roared with laughter.

“Yeah! You’re twice my weight!” A young man yelled back. He held himself as if he could not push his shoulders back and sit with an assertive posture, “When that beast showed up you were asleep on the dock!”

“Hah!” Emmerling roared as he tilted his head back pouring the beer down his throat and down his dark red pourpoint jacket before he placed it lightly back on the table. He adjusted his felt cap carefully and then wiped his hands across the breast of his overcoat. “I like ya Thomas, you’ve got spirit. Maybe ya could be like me one day.”

“No one wants two Emmerlings!” Another man shouted over the raucous din of the conversation which warranted a laugh from all.

“Hah! There is already two!” He shouted in return as he slapped his hand against his belly. “Any of you lot want to know how I’d’ve killed tha’ beast?”

“We already know you scared it off because you pissed yourself,” Andrew of Methalous jabbed his elbow into Emmerling’s side playfully which summoned another spirited laugh from the fat man who swung his palm into Andrew’s back and struggled to regain his composure.

“Aye! Ya’ll should be . . .” Emmerling stopped amount trying to catch his breath, “. . . Ya’ll should . . .” He began to cough rapturously and wetly and his face began to glow bright red from the force. After a moment of coughing Emmerling poured more beer down his throat before a smaller cough sent beer spraying over his plate and he was left gasping. “ . . . As I was sayin’, ya’ll should be happy I scared that wolf off. One whiff of my piss an’ that wolf knew tha’ it was in the turf of a real pack leader.”

“You’re a fat drunk, not a mighty warrior!” Thomas said.

“I’m a carpenter! We’re the mightiest warriors in these parts.” Emmerling shoved a handful of sausage into his mouth, and suddenly the room went quiet.

Cliver had entered the hall, but not alone. A motley band entered with him. They seemed to be all sorts. A girl with wings, a strange wolf, a Halfling, two young looking girls, and a short young man. None among them really looked like warriors, and by the reactions the men in the hall collectively had, they had never seen such a band before.

“Make way for the conquering beast slayers!” Cliver yelled over the quiet, and the men cheered and shouted. Emmerling joined in heartily, but he looked to the others with marked incredulity.

“That is the guild that Mundy called for?” Emmerling asked the others.

“It appears so.” Andrew replied over a mug of honeyed almond milk.

“They don’t seem too guild-like,” Thomas said pointing over at Emmerling, “You said Cliver died.”

“Of course! I thought he had!” Emmerling raises his hands up in faux defense, “Listen, giant wolf attacks, Cliver goin’ missin’ in the night an’ not returnin’. Why do ya think I drank so much last night?”

“Because you’re a drunk.” The men said in unison.

“No.” Emmerling pounded his palm onto the table, “Out of respect! If I die I want ya’ll to get drunk for me, and I suspect Cliver would want it too!”

“I’d probably want ya’ll to look for me before getting drunk,” Another man chimed in.

The men laughed, and breakfast continued on. They feasted longer than usual because of the news, and the men traded tales and jokes with the adventurers. Before long most of the hall had finished their food, but they had gathered in large clumps around the guild members to listen to their stories. Except Emmerling. He had removed himself from the table after finishing his meal, and he now lugged around a heavy wooden box on his back that contained all of the tools of his trade.

With a huff, Emmerling sauntered to Mundy’s office and pounded on the door with a meaty fist, “Oi, Mundy. Should we keep workin’ on fixin’ the wall now that the beast is dead?”

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

I'll be joining this. I've been meaning to get back into forum rp for year and this seems like an entertaining way to start.