There's a simple saying that most folk know and practice: "Don't poke the bear." Some people, however, just can't repress the urge.

Two sailors crashed through the window of the Saucy Mermaid, rolling about the streets in a tangled, bloody mess. One groaned, and the other popped his nose back into his place with a cry. A passing guardsman decided to investigate, and he boldly stepped up to the door with his sword in hand, ready to stop the commotion inside and return law and order to the tavern.

That brave guardsman decided there were more pressing crimes to be dealt with when he saw a giant of a man snap a table in half over his knee.

It didn't take Bjorn long to finish the fight the sailors had started. He swung the two parts of the table about like a pair of shields, knocking the other drunks in the bar to the floor. The other patrons decided to give the Skaeling his space as he grabbed the last offender as he tried to flee and began squeezing him from behind with his tree trunk arms. Finally, just as the sailor thought it was all over, Bjorn simply tossed him onto the floor.

There was silence in the Mermaid. Two tables were wrecked, several chairs were scattered, bottles were broken, and one of the kegs was spewing its contents out onto the floor. Someone coughed. It was a huge mess.

The tavern keeper cleared his throat, stroking his hand through his scraggly beard. "So," he began slowly, "what bastard will be paying for the damages?"

"They will," Bjorn said with a grin, wiping blood off his face. One of the sailors had scratched him with a broken bottle. "They're in no position to argue," he observed, peering down at the men on the ground. They'd live, but their groans and moans were the sort you'd expect from someone in an infirmary. The mercenary knelt on down and cut the coinpurse of the fattest man (who, sure enough, had the fattest pouch of coins). After weighing it in his hands for a few moments, he tossed it over at the tavern keeper. The gray-haired man caught it, removed one of the coins, bit it, and gave Bjorn a satisfied nod.

"Now," said the old man with a raised eyebrow, "I'll ask you to leave. I'll be askin' [i]everyone[/i] to leave," he added, waving his hand at the remaining patrons. "I've got a mess to clean."

Bjorn wouldn't argue with that. He left.

The Skaeling mercenary made his way past the market and toward the inn he was staying at. The merchants in the city were all very busy shouting to passersby and trying to cut into each others' business. In fact, Bjorn could have sworn he saw one merchant sneak over to another's stall, steal his fruits, then start hawking them as his own. It was... funny.

But what caught Bjorn's eye was a piece of parchment nailed to a jobs board. There was an offer of food and money just to visit some rich man's castle. All-in-all, it struck Bjorn as rather telling that nobody had snatched the paper up...

Chances were good it involved something more dangerous than it seemed to, probably a job pitch. Bjorn decided the risk made the little get together worth attending.

The Norse warrior noted the instructions, memorized them, and then made his way to the inn to gather his things. He was going to have a long walk ahead of him. It almost made him wish he had a horse.