A large half-giant, rising over eight feet in his mud and dried kobold encrusted banded mail, stands dumbly beside the notice as others read it. Lazily lifting the head of an iron maul from the ground where it was resting, he taps a halfling between the shoulder blades with it.
"Why you...!" curses the halfling, as he rises and turns to see what the shoving is about. At first confused by the sight of a metal-encased muddy log planted in front of his face, the wee fellow ends his outburst as his head tilts to the sky and the ugly face filling it.
"What is?" the giant says in a slow voice. His long arm reaches out and a dirty finger pokes the notice. "What sayings?"
The halfling, breathing through his mouth to avoid the odor that has eclipsed the fresh morning air, reads the notice aloud, "Needed for immediate emp..."
"What meaning?"
"What?"
The large fellow merely stares, wiggling a dirty finger in ear.
"Yes, well... cooks, chambermaids..."
"Thems pretties," the rough voice offers.
"...guards and janitors. These are jobs," the halfling offers.
"Is for shinies? What janitors?"
The halfling, trapped between the giant and the notice, fans the air about his face. "They are cleaners," he says, switching the fanning motion to a sweeping one.
"Oh!" the giant roars, "Pig can doings sweep." With that he swings the maul low to the ground in a sweeping motion. "Pig do lots sweep littles. Thems go like flying. Is good for be guardman janitor."
The halfling merely stares open-jawed as he imagines what a group of little halflings must look like with a giant sweeping them away.
"You writings, Pig do."
Without waiting for a reply, the half-giant lumbers off down the path in Hlint. The maul trails behind him on the ground, almost as a child would drag a favored stuffed animal about in their playing.
