(Paging any interested parties, including but not limited to: @Dizzy00 @Darling König @AngryCacti @Die Shize )
Seeking an assortment of exceptionally dangerous individuals for purposes of extrajudicial injustice correction. Payment will be commensurate with personal risk to life, limb, and dignity.
Requirements are as follows:
- A sense of discretion
- An aptitude for violence
- A casual disregard for maritime property rights
If interested, please apply at the following address, in person, on the evening of the 29th.
* * * *
The Silver Hour faded, returning the waters of the harbor to their obsidian blue as the sun dipped behind the bluffs, casting long shadows towards the town. On the roof of Louie's bar, Avarice watched it set, his hands clasped neatly at the small of his back. He could sense his moment arriving, almost as if he could look past the horizon and see the giant smuggling ship approaching, oblivious to its fate.
That made him smile, the feeling of being a player in the grand game again.
A crinkled, hand-sketched map lay on a stained table, illustrating a crude but detailed image of Silver Harbor, from the city all the way to the sea. Random objects held down the four corners of the map: a kite coin, a doorstop, some broken glass, and a shoe that had somehow made it up to the roof long ago. Two hastily-carved small wooden ships, not to scale at all with the map below them, sat unevenly on its surface: one near the city, the other at the harbor's mouth. Any military commander might have laughed at the display, but it would serve its purposes: to impress on his visitors that the plan was thorough.
The absence of the magistrate, the Governor, or any authority figure at all should communicate that it was also unsanctioned and entirely extralegal.
From his position leaning on the edge of the roof, his gnoll companion grunted once, loudly. “Expecting anyone to show?”
Avarice inclined his head slightly and took a sip of his drink. “We'll see.”