Season of Winter, 10th Day, 510 AV
Jonathon moved out of his room, and locked his door with a small key. Door, room, and key were all brand new; at least they were newly under his possesion. The key was worn, the room deserted and uninviting, and the door scuffed and unpolished. But it was home. His new home.
I finally have a place of my own... Nice of my father to chip in to pay for it. Although, to tell the truth, his father owed him quite a bit, and not just in cash. Jonathon had spent over a year of his life caring for his father. But now he seemed to have pulled himself together after Mother's death.
Slipping the key into his pocket, Jonathon set off into the streets. The place was crowded and rather noisy, but Jonathon was used to the people; he had lived here for over a decade. Slipping through the crowd, he twisted through the streets, following a specific path. After only a few minutes, Jonathon had found what he was looking for; a large tavern he had visited before, The Rearing Stallion.
The place was less crowded then the streets, but had a respectable number of people in it. Jonathon chatted with the tavern owner (or the barkeep, he wasn't sure which), who he had only spoke to on occasion. "Hey... Look, I'm trying to organize a hunting party. From what I know, a tavern is a decent place to get one. If anyone around seems like they'd be intrested, try and direct them to me, would you?"
Taking an empty table, his eyes raked his surroundings, looking for possible allies. The owner was a decent enough guy, but whether he would be any help remains to be seem. To tell the truth, this being his first time trying his hand at this stuff, Jonathon wasn't sure if this would be the place to go. At the very least, it's good to be doing something.