The Yaralon Mercenary had found his time to shine. After several Trials were spent meandering from one part of Andaris to the other. Little time was spent actively figuring out just where he was going to be, while in Andaris. It wasn't entirely awful, at least. Eir was able to survive on what he was given. But the Mercenary needed more, he needed to make a name for himself. Thankfully, there was a bounty board, with a particular bounty in mind. Verity Philt. A girl just eight Arcs old, yet she was already off to who knows where. The library of Andaris was good place to start to figure out if she might have just snuck off to hide in there.
Despite the absence of the sun, Eir was able to find his way to the library, after spending several bits roaming into the wrong places. The library doors are pushed open, as the mercenary makes his way inside. The fur cloak is draped across his shoulders, the withered leather fasten to his torso, keeping his arms and torso warm. He was, at least, dressed and ready for the long winter of Cylus. His lantern was currently lit, kept on his waist while dangling from the clasp of his belt. Thick leather boots press against the floor, as the Yaralon man wanders his way into the library. "All this for books? They must be valuable..." The wide-eyed mercenary takes a moment to breathe in the aged covers of books made from various types of leather. Eventually, Eir finds his way towards the front desk, taking a glance around, before his eyes fall upon the bell.
Both his hands are placed onto the ledge, eyes scanning his general vicinity, to see people coming and going. But his hazel eyes were drawn to the bell. He had never seen such a device, curiosity gripping his being, as he eyes it with an intent to ring it to see what could possibly happen. Gloved fingers tap against the wooden counter, as Eir contemplates ringing the bell in rapid succession. Eventually, his left palm taps the bell, a 'Ding!' resounding from the front desk, before several 'Dings!' ring out shortly after the first. The bell was rang no further than four times, within three trills. The echoing sound of metal clanging still clung to his ear drums, as the mercenary resigns to waiting patiently, for some aid.