[hr][center][img]https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2019/07/28/16/52/man-4369037__340.jpg[/img][/center][hr]
[center][h3]Edgar Fischer[/h3][/center]

The old man let out a long sigh of disappointment as his brows knit together with worry. He had arrived at Harken a day ago in hopes that this town would be better than the last. But sadly, he was wrong. Most of the well paying jobs required a group and the ones that didn't only paid a pittance compared to what he needed.

His eyes wandered down towards his hands on the bartop, clasped tightly. He couldn't bear the idea of loosing his little girl. Maybe...maybe this was a sign that he [b]had[/b] to go back to his old ways to save his adopted daughter. The gods know that he could make that money in a couple weeks in his prime. 

He left out a soft but bitter and mirthless chuckle. What a cruel twist of irony.

But it seemed that maybe some of the gods pitied the elderly father. A merchant made himself known and said sought able men and women to protect his caravan from the perils of the roads for nearly 25% of what he needed to treat his daughter's sickness. He couldn't let this opportunity pass up. Standing from his seat at the bar, he scanned the room for the merchant.

He saw him being led to a seat by a woman, seemingly interested with the merchant's offer as well. Throwing aside any reservations with working with others, he made his way across the room to where the two sat. [color=slategray]"I'm interested in the job if you'll have me."[/color] He takes a seat at the table. [color=slategray]"I'm a hunter by trade,"[/color] He gestures to the longbow and a little bit less enthusiastically to the light crossbow. [color=slategray]"Shooting a buck 80 paces away and in between trees is no problem to me."[/color]