The town air felt good at this time in the evening. It was filled with the sounds of regular night life and felt welcoming to those who lived more underworldly lives. A towering barbarian type of a man, riding in on a large draft horse, one of the few horse's fit to carry him, was one of those many drawn to a less than honorable life.

The man dismounted, dirty and sweaty from riding for so long and being out in the sun for too long. His clothes were covered in dirt, and the heat of the day had soaked his clothes in sweat. He was in desperate need of cleaning up, and so he came to the tavern to refuel and renew. Though he would need a good drink first of all.

The man's name was Hugh Van Halder. A man of many misfortunes, all leaving him alive. He was beginning to think he was cursed. This evening, however, it would appear fate would bless him.

Hugh walked boldy into the tavern, bumping into a gentleman as he walked in. He had completely forgotten his manners, and simply paid no homage to the unfortunate gentleman. 

His course proved to take home to the main bar where he quickly spotted the poster with the quest on it. Noting the generous pay, he kept it in mind as he ordered up a very strong lager. "This could be good." He noted, picking up the lager and beginning to nurse it steadily. Soon, after staring at the poster long enough, he realized that the man offering the quest was in this tavern at the time, and would sit at a table a little further behind him.

He asked the bartender where he could find the man responsible for putting out the quest, and he directed him to a table further off, with only a cloaked man with a staff and a silver haired female, sitting and talking.

Without further adieu, Hugh picked up his lager and carried it over with him to the table. He paused for a moment, above the table uncertain as to when he could join the conversation. "Excuse me, are you the man who issued the quest? Could I be of service?"