As Quilrith made her way through the crowd and came near the bartender, she noticed a large board behind the bar, covered in leaflets nailed to the cork. Each leaflet featured a charcoal drawing, a rough approximation of a face. Below the image, in large, boldly written words, the leaflets proclaimed the size of the bounty and the reason for the posting. There were as follows:

[center][b]BY ORDER OF THE CITY WATCH
AWARDS PAID BY THE OFFICE OF THE MASTER OF COIN[/b]

[b]1 Silver Jack per Goblin Hand[/b]
[i]for Their Crimes Against the People of Northmarch [/i]

[b]1 Gold Mark per Bugbear Head[/b]
[i]for Their Crimes Against the People of Northmarch [/i]

[b]50 Gold Marks for the Capture of Jaska Selley[/b]
[i]for the High Misdemeanors of Highway Robbery, Theft, and on Suspicion of Murder[/i]

[b]75 Gold Marks for Each of the Heads of the Boarwood Ettin[/b]
[i]for Its Crimes Against the People of Northmarch[/i]

[b]100 Gold Marks for the Capture or Head of Yakree Elf-Killer[/b]
[i]for High Crimes Committed in the Service of the Enemies of Teres[/i]

[b]100 Gold Marks for the Capture or Head of Zaghaz the Sneak[/b]
[i]for High Crimes Committed in the Service of the Enemies of Teres[/i]

[b]200 Gold Marks for the Capture of Melvius Schotz[/b]
[i]for the High Crime of Malfeasance[/i]

[b]500 Gold Marks for the Head of the Hag of the Boarwood[/b]
[i]for Her Crimes against the People of Northmarch[/i][/center]

There was no further information on any of them, but perhaps the name and promise of gold was enough for a bounty hunter worth his salt.

Passing the bar, Quilrith noticed that bartender present a patron with a filet of cod and a tall mug of dark beer, and her nostrils were met with the overpowering smell of fish. It was not from the dish, however.

She felt a shove as two burly men, local laborers by the look of them, pushed past her and moved to the front of the crowd. They moved forward with purpose, pushing patrons out of their way as they advanced. These two had not come to engage in drunken revelry or listen to music, but they moved inexorably toward the halfling flutist at the back of the tavern. He stopped playing as the pushing became shoving, and what had initially seemed to be a pair of rude patrons became potential instigators of a bar brawl. Flute lowered from his lips, he posed a question.

"What's this about?"

"That's 'im!" the first man shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the four foot tall flutist. "That's that sod who tupped my wife!" A quiet fell over the tower as the shouting started. The crowd backed away suddenly with a few cries of surprise as these two fish-scented interlopers drew iron clubs from their waist belts and advanced, clearly intent on beating the living hells out of this halfling. The lutist backed up, but found his back against the wall. He turn his head to the crowd, his look imploring, as if begging someone to jump to his defense. The bar's patrons did not answer.