Caractacus Dool stalked up to the tavern's front door, flyer clutched in hand. It was somewhere before dawn, and he was feeling strangely optimistic, despite the darkness of night. Heroics would be a good start. Get a necromancer in the public eye, and maybe folks wouldn't hang them on sight. Or at least use softer rope. But until then he was just a regular wizard taking a regular wizard job. 

Caractacus waited outside the door. He was afraid to seem rude by barging in so early in the morning. He would simply have to wait on his lonesome a bit longer. With a nervous laugh, he thought, [color=dimgray][i]'Not like I'm not used to it...'[/i][/color] Caractacus wrapped his robe around himself to ward of the slight bite of cold, and leaned up against the tavern's outside wall. He watched outward, peering into the darkness to search for any other newcomers like himself.