The captain is standing over a desk, annoyedly straightening papers as Feanir walks in, but the arrival of a fellow half-elf, especially one with that noble of a bearing, brightens him up considerably. "Ah yes. And you likewise." He gestures to an array of chairs around the room. "Please, sit. The main thing to know is that our information on the bandits is quite lacking. We know they've stopped all the caravans, don't leave survivors, and steal all the contents. The problem is that if you're not a caravan, they just vanish. I've sent out three teams to search the forest for them, and all we got was that there were weird noises coming from the northwest ruins. The haunted ruins, that is."
He sighs and rolls his eyes at the haunted claim.
"Of course, the council is worried about their security, so they've elected to sit on their fat, mushroom chewing behinds rather than let me empty the barracks and sweep the forest properly. Which sadly, is about the only way I can think of for my men to finish the job."

He seems open to the idea of help, but might need a bit in the way of a plan.