Rovan hammered the scroll into a posting board of the Bazaar. He had never been good with tools, and as such, he had broken a fingernail already at his first few attempts. The wooden board was rough and demanded powerful hits with the hammer, which now had been the cause of his thumb being covered in bandage. The pain still throbbed in his finger as he finished his work, putting his hands on his sides as he regarded his own writing inspectively.
Scribe looking for work
My name is Rovan Dermane. This message is for any an accomplished individual and would-be persons of courage. I am looking for anyone with the right amount of capabilities and morale to go into legend and have his (or her) name immortalised in the written word.
I am an eductaed scholar from the university of Zeltiva, practised in the art of writing and have studied much lore of this world. I now seek a worthy counterpart whose deeds I may follow and write down in my upcoming book. Anyone interested and who deem themselves worthy of this honor should seek me out in the Rearing Stallion inn, where I shall be staying for the next few weeks until I find my participant. Seek me out after dusk.
The dark robed man nodded in satisfaction after reading through the text, turning on his heel as he entered the sea of people gathering around in the bazaar. It was a bustling hour and a warm sunny day, causing sweat on his brow as he pulled up his hood to cover his face from the sun. He headed back towards the Rearing Stallion, feeling it was due time to reward himself with a meal after this painful work.
