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Ri'chard was also looking at the people with interest, but with a calm interest. After all, they were a rarer sight for him compared to the Jurans and Orcs.
-- Before Ri'chard (he had only recently learned that the prefix "Before" was now added to his name). Son of Gerich. A Juran from Juran. How strange. A mercenary. He has weapons, my claws, and nothing else.

- I see, - the scribe muttered, scratching the page of the book with a quill.
- Ri'chard, we'll have a small tournament soon. Only new faces are accepted. The townspeople will be happy to watch you in action. If you don't mind such events, - said the artist, drawing a portrait of a lion.

Added 4 minutes later

-Well, then, let's have a mug of beer, because I have a lot of things to do. By the way, why are there so few people? - the mercenary looked around. - Is it because of those evil trees or something?

- No) It's just morning. In the evening, it's full of people, you can't even get through. And you've run into Ents? It's the third time this week. It's terrible. They say a witch from the neighboring village sent them, - said the barmaid, pouring beer for the legionnaire.