For All the Things
You shake your head at the dwarf, who was already signaling for two more pints. "I don't know exactly what it is you've heard, but you must have heard wrong. I'm no marksman. As for your offer, I don't need-"
"What do ye do around 'ere, lad? The odd job 'ere an' there? Do ye even 'ave a 'ome ter call yer own, or do ye lay down yer 'ead at the local inn? The village life doesn't suit ye. I know fer a fact ye won the arch'ry contest up at Li'lbrook the past five years runnin'. There's a major contest comin' up at Port Suncrest, which is 'round 'bouts where I need ter 'ead. Ye can 'elp me, an' ye can 'elp yerself, alls the same."
Just then, Saralee arrived with two pints of ale in hand. The dwarf took both and chugged them down before she could even leave, and asked for two more. Saralee eyed him up and down, before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut you off. You've had twice as much as a normal man could take before passing out cold." The dwarf attempted to make a pouting face, but it was obvious from the red in his cheeks and the half hidden smile that his efforts would be futile against the iron will of Saralee.
"Shame shame. Ah well, ye git what ye pay fer, I s'pose. An' ye," he turned towards you. "Ye don't 'ave ter kill anythin' ye don't want ter. Sometimes just ano'er pair o' eyes is all it takes." The dwarf motioned with a weathered hand for you to lean forward, and he joined you, speaking in a low quiet tone. "The name's Barunlad Firebeard, but if it pleases ye, call me Bourbon. In fact, I prefer ye do, as my name is... well let's say I 'ave a rather infamous reputation 'round these parts. I 'ave a stash o' all thin's shiny an' precious at the mouth o' the Daenin Ri'er, so I'm askin' ye, no, beggin' ye, please accompany me ter the place."
To travel with infamy...
"Village life suits me just fine."