With the party in agreement, the half orc takes the other job postings and the wanted posters. He sits at the table again before speaking up.
"I can tell you aren't from here, so I'll tell you where Osgar is. Head out the doors and follow the side road thats immediately to your right. As long as you don't follow the one heading out of town, it doesn't matter which side path; they all go the same way. You can't miss his bar.
A word of advice as well. He may be old, but don't anger him. Last greenhorn who did was sent to the temple for three days to recover."
You follow his directions and come across more dilapidated buildings, but one, specifically, looks like it intentionally looks rustic. Marked with a Leaping Stag in front of a mug of ale, you assume this to be The Drunken Stag. As you approach, you hear the sounds of a scuffle and an unconscious northern human with a black eye is hurled out of the door by some unknown force as the door slams shut behind him. The human reeks of alcohol, but he is quite young and definitely not Osgar.
Walking over the body and into the Stag, you are greeted with a room full of people of all kinds speaking in murmurs, but eyes don't shift towards you, but rather at the bartender, who is a southern human of roughly 50 years old wearing an apron over patched up and beaten clothing. There's a performer at an elevated platform, no better than a stage, but he seems to be in shock. After a couple minutes he starts playing a tune on his lute.
The rest of the crowd seem to be mostly humans wearing clothing from all different parts of the continent