Thav watches the human female as she walks in, and does so quite openly.  In this town, surrounded as they were by all manner of threats, he just saw no reason at all for subtlety, not in something like this. She seemed OK and, like him, her clothing showed some sign of wear.  Hearing her order some beer, he waited politely waited for her to take her first drink before walking over.

"Thavriol Cooperson," he says by way of introduction.  Rissla was always working on his manners, or lack thereof, but sometimes he backslid.  "I'm here to see if anyone wants to take a run outside the walls.  What's your name and what brings you to Trishdale?"  He could always spot a local.

Scab, more formally known as the kobold wrapped in wrags, just cackles to himself on the stool, admiring the locket he picked up from the group. 

"Scab's the best guide there is in town!" he laughs, requiring both hands to lift an oversized mug to his mouth. "You need a guide to the wilderness, Scab's got you covered!" he mentions to anyone lost enough to approach a conversation with a slightly loopy Kobold.

Cali pauses, takes a deep breath that almost sounds like a sigh.  She looks over her shoulder at the man.  Mother and father warned me about strange men in bars.  She tries to muster what she can of a scathing response, but it dies on her lips.  

"I'm, uh, Cali.  Came here looking for an old friend.  Have had no luck.  So, I'm here."

Perigord returns his lighter coin pouch to his belt and smiles up at the dwarf.

"Very true. If you've got a job I might be able to do, I'd love to hear about it. And unfortunately, I'll be needing to head out of town eventually. So, go for it! What can I help you with?"

"Pleased to meet you, Cali.  What is your friend's name?  I'm a native.  Maybe I know the person," says Thavriol.

 Turning to the kobold, he says, "A guide, huh?  Where have you been?"

"Ezimade," Cali divulges.  "Truth be told I'm not even sure she's alive.  Been here a week and the trail's gone cold. . . why are you looking for people to go into the wilds?"

Thav raised an eyebrow at the question.  He would've though that anyone who came to Trishdale would know what they were in for.  "I haven't heard of her...sorry.  As for your question, well, Trishdale is under constant threat from any number of dangers, some from other planes.  People go out there to do lots of things, but mostly all dealing with the dangers.  Trade guards, bandit patrol, monster culls, searches for rare medicinal herbs.  Lots of reasons.  I've been out but now I'm on my own, except for Rissla, so I'm looking for a group and some work."

You should help, came the voice in Cali's head.  The wayward noble stares down at the bar counter for a moment, thinking.  She was homeless, her coin was soon to run out, and there were people in need here.  What choice did she have?

"Okay.  I can help.  I'm something of a woman of the woods, and I have a few ways to help fight.  Do you already have something lined up?  I'm, er, not familiar with the mercenary lifestyle."

Thav shakes his head. “That’s what I’m here to find. It’s a good place to find a gig. It’s kinda quiet right now but I’ve only just arrived.”

(Apologies I've been behind on posting - happy holidays, folks! @Razor - Scab would simply like to relax in the bar, hopefully relaxing enough to get rid of his singular point of stress.)

The mound of rags shuffles, swiveling around on the stool. It hops off, one claw poking out to snatch a rag that fell off in the process. It skitters over towards the one mentioned as Thav, and the tiny mouth of a smaller-than-average Kobold pokes out. "Scab heard you be called Thav, eh? Scab's seen plenty o' new folks around town, but he hasn't seen you. Scab's been takin' folks out to kill the thing that was hauntin' up the place, not like there's only one o' them," he rasps. A beat. "But Scab wasn't scared, oh no! Scab doesn't scare easily. If you're headed out somewhere, Scab thinks he can provide some aid in the wilderness." With that, the diminutive Kobold scampers under the shadow of the bar. It seems he abhors light.

The half-elf paladin listens respectfully to the little kobold.  As the little creature finishes, Thavriol nods thoughtfully.  "Aye, that's true enough my friend.  There do be more'n one of the things.  Much more.  Would you like to come with us?  Maybe guide us, my little friend?"

While he waits for the kobold to step up, if he will, Thavriol looks around.  Then, raising his voice, he says, "Anyone else thinking of journeying beyond our safe walls?  I'll buy you a drink.  If you've actually been out, I'll buy you two for the tale!"

Hello everyone! I’m one of the DM’s here. Newer players might not recognize me since I’ve been gone for a while, but I’m back now and I was informed that a group was ready to get going. So who is all in this group and what is the nature of your quest?

(Scab and a few others were planning on investigating a rumor, but due to the rumor system's change, the specifics might need to be ironed out.)

Scab pokes a nose out from behind the shadows of the bar. "Aye! Scab will take you folks out t' the woods. If you're out on a mission, Scab'll be right there to ensure you're on the right track." The Kobold is picking his teeth with a Kobold-sized dagger. It's quite adorable. The mound of rags retreats back into the shade!

"I'd be happy to accompany any group that would like a stout heart, experienced head, and sharp blade," Thavriol says.

I was in the process of hearing about a possible quest from the blacksmith, but I didn't have a group yet, so it's probably not me.

Black-haired Nolla sits in the tavern, nursing a drink. She has settled down, putting behind her the stress of her last adventure in the lands around this town. She scans the tavern to see if anyone of interest is about. as she does so she listens to see if any of the talk around her catches her attention.

The next morning, Thavriol leaves the home he shares with Rissla.  His time at the tavern had been unproductive.  Today, the half-elf paladin decided he would head to the hostelry and see what rumors could be chased up there.  Ten minutes later he walked through the wide door of the barn, horses and mules for let on either side, about half the stalls full.  A noise from his right caught his attention and he grinned as Brekka came out.

"Oy, Brekka.  I see you've put on a few more pounds," he said with a wide smile.  Then he walked over and gave her a hug.  However, she held him off with a hand.

"You may have just gotten out of bed, you lazy half-elf.  I done been working for my keep and I be smelling. Rissla wouldn't thank me for sending you home me stench." The words were fierce but the tone and smile light.  "What brings ye?"

"I wish to say affection alone brought me, but I'm looking for work and you know the kind of work I seek.  Have you heard anything?"

Brekka tells you about a number of items that went missing from a farm just outside the city. An assortment of ale barrels, crop crates, tools, and livestock have disappeared. Strange tracks lead from the farm out towards the hills. No one dares look for the missing inventory, but the farmer is desperate to get it all back.

Perigord chose not to accept the blacksmith's job offer, wanting to get his bearings first. He stayed the first night with a small family of halflings who also worship Cyrrolallee, but is hoping to find a group to leave town with soon to avoid inconveniencing them any further. Dropping by the stables, he windowshops for some sort of animal steed sized for a halfling and more seriously shops for any sort of work.