C.A.R.P.S.

[Res Ipsa]

*Res saunters into the inn, moves over to the bar, and orders a drink. He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, smooths it out, and scribbles some writing on it pausing periodically to take a pull from his ale. After working for a little while, he drains his glass, stands, walks over to the notice board, and spends a few minutes looking it over for an empty spot. Failing to find one, he grumbles to himself and attempts to make space for his note by pulling at one of the posted notes. It promptly tears in half. Res blinks in embarrassed disbelief, glances around to see if anyone is paying notice, and quickly pockets the remains of the destroyed note. He places his note in the empty space that is left on the board, and walks quickly away.*

The note reads as follows:

WANTED:

1. Master or better Tinkerer needed to make something. Would prefer to discuss details in private.

2. Master or Grand Master smith.

Have gold and will pay for work, or can barter divination services.

See Res Ipsa if interested.