The building where the mercenaries guild had their harbor branch was sturdy looking. It's ground floor was made of precisely cut stone and all the windows were only on the upper floors. It had one entrance, a large gate with heavy timber double doors. It even had a steel portcullis that could be lowered in an emergency.
As Finn approached the building he thought it looked more like a small fort. The second and third floor were made of a red colored wood, naturally fire resistant, with decorative designs painted in black. It had a flat roof that archers could stand on, and a small pointed tower rising and additional two floors in one corner with the guild's flag flying from its peak.
There was a short line at the gate, a guard was questioning visitors before they could enter. Lining up Finn, soon arrived at the front. The guard, wearing full plate armor, glanced at him before asking in a monotone voice:
'Name? Purpose?'
'Finn, I'd like to find out how to join'
The only way he could get payed for completing the various tasks posted in the guild or even learn about them would be to join as a member. He needed the money, it wouldn't be easy getting a 'normal' job due to his lack of trade skills.
The guard looked Finn up and down as if measuring him. Not seeing any armor and the only weapons being daggers, he looked at Finn questioningly as if not quite convinced.
'You sure you're up for it? Some tasks can be a little rough, not that you'd be forced to choose them, but we don't any pansies here'
'I'll manage! I'm sturdier than I look!' Finn tried to puff out his chest a little. Afraid he would be turned down before even getting a chance, he tried to think of his qualities. 'I'm pretty fast, and can use a crossbow,' he tried.
'Crossbow huh? Well whatever, I'm not the one who decides these things. Head on in and find Mürstein, the dwarf. He's in charge of this branch of the guild.'
Excited, Finn made sure to remember the name and walked in. As he did he thought he heard the guard mutter something about youth these days not appreciating the beauty of the sword anymore.
Walking in through the gate, Finn found himself in a lobby. A few civilians had lined up in front of a desk filling out forms while small group of mercenaries were looking at different prices of paper that had been pinned to a large wall made of cork. He could tell they were mercenaries by the fact that they were all armed and wearing armor as well as a small badge they all wore.
'That must be where the tasks are pinned up,' thought Finn. Looking around he noticed a small bar and a few tables where a few people were drinking. A couple tough looking dwarves were enjoying their ale, wiping the foam off their beards with their sleeves while an elf sat in the corner sipping some fruity looking cocktail.
Approaching the bartender, Finn asked where he could find Mürstein, mentioning that he was hoping to join the guild. The bartender laughed before yelling out:
'Oi Mürstein! Alf sent you another applicant!'
The two dwarves stopped their drinking to look at Finn, obviously disdainful of his lack of chain mail or heavy weapon. One of them got up and walked over with heavy footsteps.
Finn hadn't noticed it previously, but the dwarf was wearing chainmail from head to toe. He had a shiny breastplate and a few other plates protecting other parts too, including his shins and thighs. Every piece of metal seemed expertly crafted and tailored to fit, no doubt made by dwarves and intended for dwarves.
Slightly intimidated by this moving fortress of metal, Finn cautiously asked:
'Mr Mürstein sir?'
'Aye that me,' said the dwarf. 'No Mr, no sir, just Mürstein. If yer lookin to join, you just need to complete a few simple tasks first. We don't really care who you are, who you know or what you've done, if you're capable and complete requests without makin us look bad that's good enough for me.'
Tossing over a badge, Mürstein pointed to the line and said, 'here, take this badge and show it to old Pete who's on receptionist duty. He'll give you a task.' Turning around, he went back to his drinking buddy and his ale.
Catching the badge easily, Finn looked at it carefully. It was made of wood and shaped like a shield, on it was carved the word 'trainee'. On the backside it had a small groove where a small magic stone was set.
Grateful for the opportunity, Finn stood in line patiently, waiting for the people in front to finish submitting their requests. Requesting the guild's help to deal with anything required a written description of the task, its reward, and deadline. The guild would assign each request a difficulty rating before posting it on the wall. The party requesting aid would need to pay a deposit and small handling fee upfront and the pay the rest of the reward after its completion.
Eager to get started, Finn finally arrived at the front of the line. To his surprise the receptionist was a young looking man with long brown hair tied up in a knot. Pausing for a little too long in confusion the receptionist gave him a questioning look.
'How can I help you?' He said
'Do you know where I can find Old Pete?' Finn asked, confused by why the dwarf would give him wrong directions.
'That's hilarious' said the receptionist frowning, his face didn't match his words. Turning to look at the Dwarves merrily drinking he yelled 'Mürstein you bastard! Stop telling everyone I'm old! I'm only 159! That's still considered youthul amongst us elves!'
Turning back to face Finn, ignoring the roars of laughter coming from the dwarves the elf continued on as if nothing had happened. Finn only just noticed that his ears were indeed a little longer than others and pointed at the top.
'Sorry about that, I'm Petrosilinus Broadleaf, but everyone here calls me Pete, so you might as well too. Anyway, what did you say you needed?'
Still trying to process the internal humor that he had unknowingly been a part of, Finn dazedly handed over the trainee badge.