Dieter

" ... And that's how he punched a two headed Snapple Gob while blessing a half gnome blight catcher at the same time!"

Tulfgar lets out a hearty laugh as he finishes the tale. "He wasn’t always around, but he did come home with the best stories." He takes a long draw on his pipe, eyes staring wistfully up at the ceiling. "Aye, he did…"

The dwarf turns to the young man seated across from him. "And you’ll find yourself with plenty stories of your own, don’t ye doubt!" The last words leave his lips in an exaggerated, well-rehearsed Dwarvish accent. He chuckles again. "Just be sure to come back every once in a while to share them, eh?"

He looks at Dieter expectantly.

"Of course I will return master I swear on my honour and the blood of my ancestors, I will return and share my stories." Dieter swears "hopefully I will have gifts to bring for the little ones. tell me Tulfgar of whom I am to meet. You said they needed my help?"

The amicable dwarf nods contentedly. "I couldn't ask for anything more, lad."

He takes another puff of his pipe, thinking for a moment. "I don't rightly know them. Friends of my father's, or friends of theirs. I'd be off to meet them myself, but..." His blue eyes wander towards the workshop. "Tulfgar's Toys is just getting started, and I need hands on." He lets out yet another chuckle. "But you'll do well enough. Might as well be my own kin! Though you'll have to work on that beard."

Tulfgar pats the table and leans forward. "They'll be showing up to Candlekeep in a couple days looking for you. I told them just to keep an eye out for your... erm... attire." He coughs politely. "And I got you signed up to guard an iron merchant who's headed out there. Wouldn't hurt to make a good impression on him, don't ye doubt. A boy's got to work."

"Of course, and thank you. I can never repay you for the kindness you've shown me, it'd be better that I died in the black wood than dishonour you and my family. I will do my best to impress this merchant and assist these people on their journey. How will I know it is them?" Dieter continues.

Tulfgar shrugs. "They're adventurers, lad. They'll stick out in a crowd. But if you need to ask around, they're from the Frozen North. Icewind Dale." He shivers. "Brrrrr... It even sounds like a cold place."

The dwarf gets to his feet. "Well, enough of a break for me. Back to work. And you'd best be sure you're prepared for the road! Food, clothes, weapons... Bah! I'm not your mother. When you're ready, go meet the Iron Throne merchant Koveras. He's staying at The Burning Wizard. Remember, his good side, eh?"

Tulfgar goes through the door to his workshop, leaving Dieter alone in the room.

Well I guess this is my time to go gathering his pack and things together and Dieter makes his way through the narrow streets to the burning wizard. Entering the busy tavern he makes his way to the barkeep "good evening my good sir, I was told that there was a certain Koveras I was to meet here. Could you point him out to me? Dieter asks politely resting against the bar.

The dwarven barkeep looks Dieter up and down and raises a thick eyebrow. "Ye seek Koveras Anchev? He be o’er there in the corner by the door. Half-orc." He utters the last word with a too-straight face, as though working hard to withhold judgement.

Koveras sits alone with his back to the wall. Despite his orcish features, he seems remarkably well-groomed, dressed in fine attire and holding himself like a noble. Still, there is an uneasy threat in his eyes, as though daring anyone to remark on his heritage.

He watches silently as Dieter approaches.

a WHAT? If I’m not mistaken that man said a half orc.
Reaching Koveras’ table Dieter does a shallow bow to show respect but not a deep bow that could be taken as sarcastic or rude.
"Mi’lord I am Dieter, I was sent by Tulfgar to speak with you concerning an upcoming journey you will be taking. Do you have any questions for me?" Dieter respectfully asks

So this is a half orc, I wonder if all of their race is as noble and strong

The half-orc says nothing for a long minute. "You’re on-time. As a guard, I need you to be early." His voice is low, but refined. "Your clothes are unbecoming for this job. You look strong enough, but you also have the appearance of a fool."

Face expressionless, he locks gaze with Dieter. "Tell me why I should hire you to guard my caravan."

I guess I was wrong, how ironic.
"Interesting, I didn't realize we were forming our opinions on appearances." Dieter says taking a seat at the table all the while looking Koveras in the eyes. "If you need me explain this is the traditional battle dress of my people. It colours exhibits the lack of fear the warrior has and his desire for glory through combat. I've seen and fought things that would make men question their existence"

Koveras lets his mouth curve into a half-smile. "So you say. Normally this is where I would tell you that appearance is half a guard’s job. But attitude can be just as crucial, and you’ve plenty of that."

He stands. The half-orc is about as tall as Dieter, which is a fair bit taller than most people. "I’ll pay the usual rate for caravan guards, 5 gold pieces a day, and I’ll cover food and living expenses on the road. If you’re in."

The half-orc extends his hand to shake on the deal.

"I agree to the terms" Dieter says firmly shaking the mans hand still holding eye contact

One of the other guards draws close. "You ever worked for the Iron Throne before, kid?"

She walks with purposeful strides, and the sword on her back looks new.

"No I have not, this your first contract with them aswell?" Dieter asks shifting the weight of his own great sword. Every few second Dieter looks away from the guard talking to him and examines his surroundings as he is on the job.

The woman grunts. "Nah, I've worked with them plenty of times. They pay well. But..." She leans closer and lowers her voice. "They say the merchant organization is corrupt, and has underhanded dealings all over the Sword Coast."

The guard waggles her eyebrows mysteriously. "So... what does the son of one of its leaders want from Candlekeep? Last I checked, libraries and iron don't have much in common..." She lets that thought hang in the air for a moment. "Whatever the answer is, I bet there's a profit to be made by clever minds."

She squints at Dieter. "Are you clever?"

"I think it’s none of my business ma’am." Dieter says mimicking her volume. Quickly Dieter raises his voice to a normal level and tries to switch the subject "What places have you been to? Worked for any interesting individuals?"

The guard scowls in disappointment. "Bah. Not so clever, then." She moves back to her position, muttering to herself.