The group took some of it purse money and went to the local calligrapher to have posters and business cards drawn up. They put the posters around town and along the roads in the surround areas, passed out the business cards, sat back, and waited for the jobs to start rolling in. And waited. And waited.
The days following were spent tracking down leads on jobs (which mostly ended with the potential client balking at the fees demanded, and services un-rendered). The nights that followed were spent in the Lucky Gnome, drinking away whatever funds they had, carousing with the locals, and taking in the “colorful” nightlife that populated the tavern.
Eventually, coinage started running light. Although the pints were cheap at the Gnome, and the rooms in the Nentir Inn cheaper, the party decided to start lowering their fee scale to “bargain pricing”.
Jobs were few and far between, but what mundane jobs happened were just barely enough to keep them afloat in Fallcrest. The party was nearly ready to cash it in and head back to Douven at the Guardmore Abbey, when early one evening, a dwarf walked through the backdoor of the Gnome carrying a cask of ale over his shoulder…