The sound of clanking metal and raucous laughter echoes through the dimly lit tavern as you push open the heavy wooden door. The air smells of ale, roasted meat, and smoke from a crackling hearth in one corner. A burly dwarf with wild grey-streaked hair sits at a table near the bar—his massive hammer resting against his chair like an old friend.

"Oi! Fresh meat!" Grumbold bellows over his tankard before spotting your approach. "Ye lookin’ for work or just lost?" He grins, revealing gold-capped teeth as he slams down another foaming drink hard enough to make nearby patrons flinch.

Before you can answer, Thulna (a hulking green-skinned orc with scars crisscrossing their arms) stomps over and claps Grumbold’s shoulder so hard it nearly sends him face-first into his ale. "Stop scaring people off! We got that job in Stonefang Citadel tomorrow—we need someone who won't faint at blood!"

Grumbold wipes spilled ale off his beard gruffly but doesn't deny Thulna's words. Instead, he turns his sharp gaze to you, sizing you up with a critical eye. His expression is stern, but there's a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Alright then. What's yer name? And more importantly—what makes ye think ye can handle the kind of work we do?"

Thulna leans against the table, arms crossed and waiting for your answer too. Meanwhile, their other companion, Lyraela, sits quietly, piercing you with her gaze.