The guild.

Istvan snorts and instantly begins coughing as harsh whiskey immediately goes down the wrong pipe. The thief's attempt at a blatant lie has the hunter nearly in tears.

Finally, after several moments smacking the bar to recover himself, the hunter turns to regard the thief and his current dilemma in the form of Carroll the Necktwister.

"Gads, Carroll, the boy can barely tell a convincing lie. Your errant pouch is likely the worse thing he can accomplish.", he calls out with a laugh, pointing at the caught thief.

"What say you just strip him where he stands and send him out of here as he came into the world? I don't think his scrawny body will be much sport.", he adds on, mocking the thief in an attempt to possibly saving his life.

"I don't like liars either boy." Growled the hunter with an increasingly irritated tone.
"That aint no coin pouch boy, judging by the sealing on it its a banshees scream. You know what that is? No I didn't think so. If you'd opened that bag to check out your spoils you'd likely have killed everyone in the room, including yourself."
He looked over his shoulder at two now very bashful looking dwarves.
"As for you two, what the hell are you playing at? This should be in a sealed curse box in a lockup somewhere!"
The dwarves fumbled what sounded like an apology. Clearly Mr.Gunnarson held quite a lot of sway around these parts.

Suddenly the light of an idea shone over the hunters face.
"You got two choices kid. You can either stay here nice and snug while we fetch the guards over here, y'know they REALLY don't like thieves trying to take things from this particular establishment. Or you can do some work for me and maybe do some good with those petty skills of yours."

""Oh come on Cal, your gonna get the kid killed. Cut him some slack." said Matilda, who had ignored the young bards requests due to more serious matters at hand.

"He coulda seriously hurt a lot of people Matilda. He's gotta pay his dues. So what'll it be kid?"

Matilda sighed and turn back to Meygan. "Sorry honey what were you saying? Performing? Look, I'm not gonna tell you again that the patrons won't like songs about hunts, even if you sing about the sun shining outa their hindquarters. If you want to do some song, make it something that'll take their minds offa their work. Heaven knows some of them could use it." she gave another sigh.

"Oh and I almost forgot, someone dropped a note by asking it be given specifically to you, Istvan. Told me it was for your eyes only so naturally I read it to make sure there was no nasty mojo on it. Seems you might have another client waiting already, a spooked one at that. Shall I hand it over or you gonna need a little more R&R for that leg first?"

Istvan turned from the thief and his apparent new employer to consider Matilda. She was the closest thing he had to a friend; but she was not really that as it was an unspoken agreement among many of the hunter to not get too close, considering their profession.

"I will take it now. I may not be able to walk fast; but I can meet and research well enough. By the time both are done, I should be back up to speed.", he tells the woman, reaching for the note and bringing it in close to his face before unfolding it. As he does, he pulls his spectacles onto his nose and reads the note.

Saltator looked around nervously at the patrons who's eyes were still on him. Then back at the very intimidating man. Realizing that he was new to the area and he was obviously caught red handed, he couldn't see any other logical way out of this without ending up dead or in manacles in a cell somewhere. He turned back to the barmaid and nodded his head to her, with his brown eyes shining in the dim light, in thanks for her standing up for him. Then he changed his gaze back to the man at the bar who was being offered a letter. Saltatore smiled in his direction, unaware if he saw it or not.

He looked up at the man in front of him, sighed, then said, "It seems I have no other choice. What is it you would have me do to make my debt paid?" He stood awaiting an answer. Shifting his weight between his feet, nervous like a young school boy waiting to be punished for misbehaving at school.

Istvan nods at Matilda as he looks at the young minstrel girl, all packed and ready to hunt. It was comical....and tragic.

"She is right, girl. The last thing any of us want to do is remember what we have been through. I wouldn't suggest dancing music, as many are trying to jot down their notes; but something lively to distract us might be useful.", he suggest quietly, folding the note in his hand and tucking it away inside his shirt.

Looking the girl over, he frowns at her outfit, "You will want to get yourself a book as well, to take notes."

"Hah! Well at least your willing to work if your pushed to it." Gunnman guffawed, he grabbed the thief my the scruff of the neck and frogmarched him towards the quiet alcove that he had originally been sitting when the whole incident had been started. "I'll take care of the thief and I'll take care of this package too, you blockheaded dwarves!" he said taking the bag from Saltator and putting it into an inside pocket of his overcoat, underneath Saltator clearly glimpsed the shifting metal of a mail vest.

Meanwhile Istvan read the note.

Saltator struggled slightly, not to get away so much as to the uncomfortable way he was handled. When he saw the mail vest though he settled down quite quickly. Clearly this man is not to be messed with and he seems to hold some sway over this establishments patrons. Perhaps this could be a way in to bigger and better things. he thought. He glanced at the dwarves that had resumed drinking and became noticably quiet. "What exactly is it you'd like me to do sir? As you can clearly tell my skills can't match something that you could easily handle. He became very nervous at the new job coming at him.

Sighing, Istvan taps on the bar with his fingers, considering what he read.

"If this keeps up, I won't be able to show my face in this place anymore.", he mutters, looking at Mati and smirking.

"Ok, minstrel, let's get your feet wet shall we?", he tells the young girl attached to him leg and turns on the stool to get to his feet. His leg still pained him; but an empty purse did even more so.

Making his way across the bar, he waves to those he knows and calls out to Carroll, "You should have just stripped him, Gunnarson."

Meygan's eyes lit up. "Really!? Oh I can't wait!" She said, her excitement returning as she followed Itsvan. Meygan pulled out a notebook that was filled with thoughts and conjectures she had put together from listening to the various hunters over the years. "Thanks Matilda!" She said with a cheery smile as she left with the ranger.

"What sort of beast do you suspect this is?" She asked academically while thumbing through her notes to the various sections she had established.

Istvan groaned and shook his head as he walks out of the bar.