You are the leader of a bunch of skilled mercenaries, but due to the peace your clan, Caris, is in, you have not had any work for a long time. Many talented soldiers have left because of this, and you are thinking of breaking up the group. You are training your soldiers in your headquarters, a farmhouse outside the village walls, when a flustered man on a horse races in.
Man: HELP! Bandits have attacked my wagon, and are taking my precious cargo! You were the closest people to me, so I came here.
You: What's in it for us?
Man: A quarter of my cargo. No, a half! And my names Harold.
You: Soldiers, prepare for fighting, and grab your horses. We've got work to do.
Harold: Thank you so much!