Paetax

Rydas Errion
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The mid-day sun was high in the sky as it hit the crescendo of its cycle, marking another day half-passed in Calisma. Right on key a loud tolling of the great cathedral bell ripped through the streets and for one moment everyone stopped. Every single person within earshot stilled their breath, waiting and listening to the low sound, counting. One strike: the crowd tensed. Two strikes: hearts stilled. Three strikes: life resumed. The massive pausing had happened at the same hour for the last twenty-three days. It began when the King had slipped from sickness into perpetuating slumber. The bell served has an announcement: the King still lived, the city was under no immediate threat, and a cure still hadn’t been found. Political views aside, everyone waited, listening for the five-toned ring when the future would change and the only ruler fell. Today was not that day, though, and so conversation and movement blossomed again.

Prince Rydas Erridas was among the crowd that paused, golden eyes sweeping up to the tower bell. It was only the silence that returned his breath to him. Time, there is still time. Like a choreographed dance he turned on heel and fell back into the suddenly moving crowd, letting it engulph him. As he weaved through the faceless bodies, they paid him no mind: a hooded cape hid his identity for the moment. Absently navigating the streets, his mind was not on them either. His mind was on his meek sister, who was addressing the supporters that gathered outside the castle at every bell toll. He only hoped her soft voice would keep them calm until he could return. Usually it fell on him to update the people on the condition of their King and the search for a cure, but this day there were other tasks at hand.

While thoughts were elsewhere his feet carried him to his destination, guiding him like a ghost through an old haunting ground. Only when he had realized he’d stopped did he lift his gaze. Straw coloured eyes quickly read a rocking sign that was well-weathered from the winter that had just past. Mixed emotions flitted through his stomach, but they were quick to be quelled. Das would go to the ends of the world to heal his father, telling himself that blood called to blood. The future was uncertain, but if he wanted his plans to fall in place, this was the only place sure to find others as determined and desperate as himself. There was no other place in all of Paetax that housed such misfit adventurers as The Black Vagabond. To gather such opportunists he had anonymously circulated a Call To Arms. One such inducement as posted beside the tavern door. He reread it out of habit, though he knew the words by heart:

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CALLING ALL ADVENTURERS
Your Liege, The First King of Calisma
His Majesty, Dazius Errion
needs you.

Answer his call for the quest of a life time
& more gold than you can carry

Report to the Black Vagabond one hour past noon
three days after spring equinox.
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The parchment was signed and stamped with the royal seal. Eyes flitted from the poster to the sun. The Prince’s lips pressed together, a sign of contentment that he was early as he’d planned. He’d wanted to see the adventurers arrive and quietly observe their behavior. While he was sure he could hold his own it was always a good idea to know who you were getting into bed with. The journey was sure to be long and arduous, even more so if he was surrounded by cutthroats. With one more breath he pushed opened the door and headed to the back.

Hood still shrouding his head he pressed himself against a wall in a space where he could see those that came to gather. From the shadowy perch he watched each of the questers enter in their own way. The Prince calculated, judged and plotted. When enough time past so even the latest would have arrived he looked for the barkeep, met eyes and nodded. The owner barred the door and retreated elsewhere. And there they were left alone.

Confident strides brought him to the front of the crowd. Calloused hands removed the hood from his head revealing a face that all were sure to recognize. If anyone in the room hadn’t seen the Prince before, the sigil on his finger and the quality of the armor were sure to give him away. Rydas cleared his throat in an attempt to gain the attention, leaving a moment for them all to adjust to his presence.

“Good Day. Thank you for attending.” He began, slowly meeting each and every person in the eye. “Allow me to explain the mission, and then I will address your concerns. If anyone is not willing to risk his or her life for your King then now is the time to leave. You will not be reprimanded for turning down this request.”

He was short, to the point and formal. But that was an Errion for you.

Paetax was inconcievable. Nel hasn't ever seen rich and prosperous before but now it translated to crowded and bustling. The yellow clothed figure looked like a stray sheep from the herd; turning heads not for beauty but for how easily she stood out from the masses. Getting to Paetax was the easy task but rumours and news often left out the importat details. Like where to meet once one was inside Paetax. Luckily, through her lost wandering, she came across a poster with the answer to her questions. "The Black Vagabond..." She said to herself and started to silently repeat the message it held with her lips. Nel wasn't a strong reader so it helped to read out the words to get a sense of understanding.

She wondered what it would mean if she had went. An "Adventurer" she would be labelled. It was quite an odd thing to be labelled as such; when she had never seen much of the outside world until the past few days. It was a heavy, cumbersome word that was awkward to spit out. "Adventur-er. Tur..er. Toorer? Ad-vent-toorer? No..." She decided to shake off the thought for the meantime, taking a new grip on her quarterstaff, and was about to dive back in to the sea of people when suddenly a bell had struck. Nel whipped her head back at the noise, reminded instantly of the same bell at the Kula Monastery they use to signify it's noon and time for lunch, and a guilty feeling started to wash over her. "They were wrong. For the first time they were wrong."

Yet there was something odd that caught her attention. The silence. The sea of people. They stopped as soon the bell rang once, then twice, then again. Then nothing. The people paused but soon got back to their buisness as if nothing had ever happened. Nel looked back and forth with a confused look on her face at the strangness of Paetax.
"Excuse me?" She asked a few of the passerby's, a few ignoring her, but a passing guard drapped in metal heeded her.
"Is there something wrong, fair maiden?" His voice was had a strong yet gentlemen tone as he asked her.
"Maiden?" Nel said, confused once more, but let it drop as there was more important matters. "Do you know where is the Black Vagabond?"
Although she couldn't tell under his helmet, he gave off a frown, and let out a groan. "Tisn't not best of watering holes but it's fair. Watch for some of the shady characters there but I think it's closed for some adventurer's gathering today. Just walk down this road and there should be a sign atop the entrance: 'Black Vagabond.'"
"I see...thank you." She said and made her way towards the direction he pointed at. "They water holes here? We just fill them up with dirt at the monastery."

When she finally pushed the door open, she was greeted with a mostly empty tavern, a refuge from the cramped streets of Paetax. The owner was a burly man shining some glasses and surely he must have some drink. Water's been sparce for about a day now and Nel's dry mouth and chapped lips were evidence of it. "Excuse me.." She said, nearing the counter. "Do you have any water?"
"Four copper."
She rifled through one of the pockets in the folds of her yellow robes and pulled out three of the brown coins onto the palm of her head. The owner took a second, shrugged his shoulders, and took the money, leaving in it's place a wineglass full of water. Nel looked at the fragile glass with a sort of wonder to how the water inside didn't break it. She carefully sat on the stool and positioned her hand right under the glass so she'd just push it up to her lips; it looked like an expensive glass. The water ran cool down her throat and brought the relief she so needed; and after laying it back down on the counter she moved to a table and sat cross legged on the chair, each foot over the opposite thigh, and waited. "It might take a while for the rest to get here." she thought. With nothing else to do, and since this was the hardly a place for exercise, she cast her gaze downwards, and let her hands fall on her lap, to wipe her thoughts away and meditate in complete silence.

Everything was done. Her bag was packed, her clothes were on her body, her dagger safely tucked away, and two stolen bracelets hung on a chain around her neck along with one ring. It had only been a few months now that Alice got her Seal and was sent back to her family. She wasn't the most confident with her spells, nor did she love the fact that she was going to come back to this world. When she was at the island, it seemed like she was in a different place, a whole new world, but now she had to go back to her own world. Now, don't get her wrong, Alice hated that island. There she had to study, practice spells, and worst of all, she had to see her pointy nosed teacher everyday.What a horrible man! But truth be told, this place was no better. At lest when she was there, there was no way of getting robbed or hurt, unless she hurt herself of course. The only part of the day that brought any feeling of happiness was having the privileged to hug her brothers once more and listen to her Father speak nonsense when he was drunk. Music to her ears. Yet, try as she might she couldn't get the old bat's words out of her head. She was not useless by any means! And she would exceed his expectations! She would be famous! Those lines played over and over in her head until she saw that poster and now she was here, in the middle of the plain room with her belongings all sorted out but no courage to leave. Not that she was afraid of the journey, not that at all! But again to be set out in that hell that was given a new name, that everyone called 'Earth' was what scared her. Monsters lay asleep, deep in slumber, and never once had Alice tried to open their eyes. She would get hurt! Possibly break a bone. Now why do that? But her fears vanished when the poster was seen and now they have returned. She was going to do something that she hadn't done, ever. Wake a beast. For she couldn't go out like she was now, become famous, nor have her name heard throughout the country if she did not fight. Fight. That word alone brought her to her perfect knees, the never had seen a scar nor a bruise. Her skin was flawless, without a starch or a medal of her childhood. In the back of her mind she knew after this journey, after she woke the beasts, her skin would not remain. Who would want to marry her then! This was a foolish idea. There it was, she was going to stay. No need to ruin herself over some small petty grudge.

She said that but her hands were already around the straps of her bag. Muttering a few words, her bag left her sight. Alice was a Mage, and like it or not, she abused her power. Used it for things she could have done herself, like carry her own backpack. But the girl was lazy, someone who would rather stay home than shop in the market. Her brothers often teased her that no man would want a lazy wife. With that scene in her mind, Alice swung back her cloak and left. The door rattled shut behind her but no one was there to send her off. Father was gone to the market and her brothers had went hunting for today's meal. They had already spoke their good-byes earlier before, that was one of the reasons Alice couldn't bare to leave. But she knew she had to. This was no ordinary grudge, the old bat had insulted her power and her strengths. He saw only flaws but Alice knew better. She was ready for this! Her name would be known to every Mage and her family would be given back the honor that it had lost. It was decided, Alice would be the one to do so. Her mothers foolish actions nor her own foolish actions would let the family be dishonored. She would make sure of that.

Yes. I will be the one to do this. She smiled at herself. With a light hop to her steps, she raced across the old dirt roads, a smile plastered on her face. As if on command, her body stopped. She stayed still and there it came. The bells rung far and wide, heard by anyone that was near. Alice had no grief over the king being ill, but she was in his debt, and she acknowledged that. He was the one that brought peace. Even her own heart stopped beating as the first bell rang. Her breath caught itself in her throat, as it always did. She closed her eyes and listened. Another bell rang, but she didn't dare move until the last bell was rung. Nothing had changed. The King was still ill. If he died, her family would be in trouble, and her Father quiet liked the King. It would make him happy to hear that she was one of the Mages to rescue him. In the past few months, her body stopped everything it was doing and listened whenever the bells chimed. Her worry grew but today she would stop her worry from consuming her alive. Giggling, Alice wove through the way, avoiding the bodies that covered the streets. She turned around the corners and jumped over the hurdles, finally pushing the door of the tavern with all her might. The owner glared at her direction for causing a ruckus. Alice smiled at him, letting the door slowly shut behind her, taking the few bits of natural light along with it. The tavern itself was almost empty save for the yellow robed monk that sat on the other end of the room. She sat down near the corner of the room, her eyes almost missed the oddly shaped shadow that was placed in the dark. It took her a few seconds but she figured it out. The man was the Prince, or at least she assumed. It was the way he stood really. Only a handful of times had Alice really seen the Prince but she remembered how he stood and how the armor look upon his body. That would how Alice remembered everyone. She was no good with faces, but the way they stood she could remember.

Alice glanced over everyone that entered the room. One by one the room started to fill and her smile seemed to disappear. Females and males, some tall and others short, some that seemed like they needed to be observed carefully, and other that Alice could already guess were going to hate her. They all come through that door. The games were about to begin but did she really want to join in on the fun? Of course I do. That was all. Her mind no longer wandered and her heart no longer yearned to stay. She was going and that was that. After a long awaited time, the owner bared the door shut and all eyes fell over the hooded figure, which Alice had been correct about. A smile played on her lips as she listen to the man speak.

An hour past noon, that was it. That was all he had to remember, to be at the Black Vagabond just one hour past noon and to stay out of trouble until then. Yet here he was, running. His hood up to cover his face, and in his hand some stolen money, as well as a very interesting orb that he managed to take from the same man he took the money from. Unfortunately his eye for shiny objects managed to get him in trouble, if it was just the money he would have been in and out of the mans pocket, his target none the wiser. If the man didn't have the orb within the same pocket as the money his hand wouldn't have touched it, had his hand not touched it his curiosity wouldn't have sparked and he wouldn't have gone back for a second take, which wouldn't have led to the current scene. Xan was running, once again in trouble with the local law on the crime of theft, but it wasn't his fault, the life of a to-be-adventurer wasn't all that profitable for him, and his funds for food were running low. The man he had stolen from looked well off, dressed in fine clothing, with the texture of the material one could assume it was made of fine silk, not something many people would wear on a day to day basis, or ever. He weaved between the crowds of people, trying to shake off his pursuers, accidentally bumping into the random person here and there, shouting a short 'Sorry' before his running feet took him out of sight. If he were to run straight for the Black Vagabond while being chased, he would only be cornering himself he would somehow have to lose his pursuers.

As his mind raced to find a quick way out, a sound came to his ear. The toll of a bell, the bell that announced the status of the king to all the people. This was just what he needed, the people around him stopped listening to the message that the bell was giving them. Even the people that were chasing him stopped at the sound of the bell, luck seemed to be on his side for the day. With the people around him no longer moving he managed to put enough distance between himself and the constables that had been chasing him. Putting away the stolen money into his pocket, he pulled up the orb and held it towards the sun. It was amazing, amazingly beautiful, within the orb where countless blue crystal like pieces that dance within it. As the light of the sun stuck it, the light changed to resemble the color of the crystals, and the resulting blue lights sparkled and danced on the ground. He held it tight in his grasp and put it into his pocket, he would look at it again later. If he were to get absorbed into it now there was a good chance that he would miss his opportunity of a great adventure that awaited him at the tavern where the story was to start. He couldn't help but have a wide grin on his face, an actual adventure. Fights, risk, treasure, and the thought of what could be the greatest adventure story of all time made him as happy as could be, this is what he wanted and he has found it. Xan started to think back to his hometown, his family, and how they would react to hear the tale of this adventure as well as the amount of treasure that it could yield.

'Black Vagabond', it wasn't as clear as day, but clear enough for him to see that that is what's written on sign above the door. This was the starting point to the path of his dreams, with a hand placed on the door he took in a deep breath and pushed it open. The inside of the tavern wasn't special in any way, it seemed to be the same as any that he had passed through in the past. He put up a hand and pulled of his hood, his hair immediately shooting off in many different directions. His right eye shot around the room, taking in the people that had already arrived before him. His left eye staying shut, making it appear as if the scar over it was keeping his eye lids together.

'And so it begins' he thought to himself as he paced around a bit, judging from the few people that were already in the tavern he knew things wouldn't really start until quite a few more people were to arrive. Being a bit early has its downside, having to wait until it got later. Patience wasn't his forte, but he was going to have to try and entertain himself until the events were to start. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his newly stolen orb again, even in the dim light of the tavern it managed to shine brilliantly. The blue crystals within it danced perpetually , he wondered if there was water inside it to keep the crystals dancing. Although curious, he didn't want to break the beautiful object to find out.

Somehow he managed to keep sane and patient by gazing into the orb as more and more people gathered into the tavern. The amount of people that had entered hadn't quite registered to him until he looked up for a moment, and the sudden roar of groups speaking at once came into his ears. He smiled a bit as he shoved the object into his pocket, the main event should be starting soon, as he had noticed a man barring the door. His expectations weren't let down as a man, that soon revealed himself to be the prince, stood at the front of the crowd announcing the beginning. Xan's face was nearly consumed by his own smile, his mind, body, and soul were ready to go at any time.

Mirabella d’Adreci

The journey south had been long and arduous and by the time the armor-clad fighter and her horse finally made their way to the farm lands outside of Paenax it was already mid-morning. The heat was more apparent here than in her northern homeland but there was an eager breeze which swept over the land, cooling her face and whipping her pale blond hair about as she cast her light brown eyes over her surroundings.

She had passed several farmsteads on her way along the pounded dirt road but none so close to her path as the one that lay perhaps twenty yards ahead of her. Mirabella had come to this town seeking truth to the rumors and a family this close to the grand city would be eager to share their tales without being suspicious of her interest in the King’s well being. It would also prove a fine place to stop and rest, perhaps even gather her thoughts until she forced herself to enter the city proper.

With that vague plan in mind, Mira clicked her tongue softly, urging the chestnut mare forward until they reached a small wooden cabin with tiny faces peeking curiously out of its windows. The warrior dismounted, pulling the reins over the mare’s head as she led her to a small tree so she could hitch her to one of its limbs. Before the warrior could even turn from her steed, the front door to the farmhouse opened and a middle-aged woman came to stand on the porch, shielding her eyes against the sun’s rays.

“Y’lost, stranger? Paenax ain’t that far y’know…” She gestured to the grand walls surrounding the capital city, as if they were hard to spot and the motion drew a small smile to Mirabella’s lips.

“No, milady. Not lost. I am simply seeking a bit of information. I am a traveler and have heard word of the King being stricken with a malady of some sort….” Gossip was always best phrased as rumors or tales then laid out so that the person could refute or agree. It was less confrontational than a direct question and she could pretend as if she was deeply invested in the King’s welfare.

“Oh, you poor child. You haven’t heard?!” The woman began filling her in and her lips moved a mile a minute, explaining everything about the King that Mirabella had wanted to know… And more. Issues with the noble caste, hints of a conspiracy, and intrigue! The story lasted for well over an hour and as the farmer’s wife spun her tale, she fed Mirabella and allowed her time to wash up, even making the children feed, water, and care for the chestnut mare outside.

By the time that the fighter finally stepped back out into the sunlight, she had even heard of parchments that had begun to pop up around the city, speaking of noble adventurers being called to aid the King in a grand quest. Riches and honor, any hero’s dream, were to be offered to those that stepped forward. ”….Report to the Black Vagabond one hour past noon three days after spring equinox.” The scroll had read and so her next destination had been laid out ahead of her.

The bells sounded throughout the land after Mirabella had finally reached the town and stabled her horse. She was wandering the streets in search for the infamous Black Vagabond tavern when the first chime rang out, causing everyone to stop in their tracks. The fighter, being new to town, had no idea about the indications of the chimes and almost plowed into an entire group of people as they paused to listen. “Watch where yer goin’!” One angry man growled after the sounds faded and motion resumed once more.

It was perhaps twenty minutes later when she finally pushed open the door to the tavern. Her eyes narrowed at the sudden decrease in lighting and she paused a moment to allow her vision to adjust even as her hand went to rest on the axe hanging from her belt. City folk were generally an untrustworthy lot and as her eyes focused on the inhabitants of the room, her fingers clenched a bit tighter around the weapon’s handle.

A mage…

She had forgotten that they were more welcome here than they had been near Vaekor. Trickery, witchcraft, she knew one of them had to be a magic wielder because it simply made her skin crawl. But there were others in attendance. A shadowy figure, a scarred man, a woman in a blindingly bright robe, and the barkeep were also scattered about different parts of the room and the very sight of others made her grip relax once more. She couldn’t risk losing her chance to be a part of this quest because of some magician.

Exhaling forcefully, Mirabella made her way to the counter and crooked a finger towards the bartender, drawing him towards her so she could place an order. She had a bit of time to kill and a glass of mead would be welcome until the others arrived.

Callavan had shown up in Paetax early in the morning. He wasn't impressed. Not with its tiny streets crowded with folks who only seemed to talk and shop and talk some more, as if they had nothing better to do. He was even less impressed with the smell. The wind was weak, letting the stench sit to fester in the streets, reeking of people, dirt and horse dung.

He rubbed his temples. I've spent too much time inland. Maybe I should just head on down to Thoav, get some work guarding a trade ship. The idea of getting back to the shore where there was a strong sea breeze to wipe away the stench of this city appealed to him. He yearned for the familiar smells of salt, seaweed and old fish. With a sigh he shoved the thought aside. He was running out of money. Thoav would have to wait until he found work, which is what he had come to Paetax for.

There didn't seem to be any work for a freelance mage though. No wives wanting someone to spy on their cheating husbands. No rampaging demons to vanquish. No items to enchant. No cults to infiltrate and, ultimately, destroy. No mysterious packages to deliver to questionable persons on the other side of the city. No distressed damsels needing to be rescued from oversized reptiles. There wasn't even a leather worker looking for twenty beaver pelts to make who knows what.

Suddenly the cathedral bell started clanging, giving Van a start. Noon already? A grumbling from his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since the early hours of the morning. He recalled spotting a pub earlier. It was a bit seedy looking, but it was in a less crowded part of town and the people there looked like they actually had some damn work to do. He pushed his way through the crowd, they were all standing around like a bunch of gulls watching that bell.

After a bit of backtracking, and more than a few wrong turns, he found himself at the Black Vagabond reading the notice that had been posted just outside. Hah! Lucky me. Even got time to eat first.

He made his way straight for the bar and tossed some coins on the counter. ”Bread, cheese and mead,” he grunted to the barkeep.

Only after he had some food and drink in him did he take the time to see who else had shown up for the quest. As he leaned back against he bar he noted a woman in bright yellow, some ponce in a hood off in the shadows, a fool fiddling with an orb, an armor clad woman and even a wee little mage, fresh from the Guild halls by the look of her.

Acacia Winn rose a bit after sunrise, quickly got dressed, gathered her belongings, and headed down the small inn's narrow stairs. She paid the innkeeper a nice tip. It really was a comfortable little inn. She would have to remember it the next time she came to Paetax. That is, if I make it through this little adventure, she thought, a slight smirk on her face. She headed out the door, the morning already pleasantly warm as she headed out. She thought back to when she had come into town, just about four days ago.

She had happened upon this little inn, the Golden Grape, and talked a bit with the innkeeper. Innkeepers always seemed to have the juiciest rumors to share in any given city, and that would usually be the first place she would visit.To her surprise, he confirmed the rumor she had recently heard of the king becoming ill with an unknown disease. As the man apparently enjoyed talking, he also told her everything he knew about the subject, from the myriad of rumors surrounding what exactly had caused this illness to the posters that had recently gone up advertising riches for adventurers who were willing to retrieve some item that was meant to make the king well.

She was intrigued by this, but thought little about it as she made arrangements with the man to play and entertain in his inn in exchange for meals and a place to sleep. She could see him already envisioning the increase in customers a bard could bring. After a bit of bargaining, they finally agreed on the terms. She headed out to wander the city a bit before she would come back to play in the small inn.

As Acacia was walking to the market, her attention was caught again and again by the posters the man had told her about. Finally, she went up and actually read one for herself. Immediately, Acacia's full curiosity was aroused.

"An hour after noon, hmm." she said quietly, still attracting the eyes of a couple passersby as they noticed her lute. Suddenly she realized the time and made her way back to the inn. However, during the entire night, her thoughts kept drifting to the poster. What if I did go, at least to the meeting, she thought several times. The inn was bustling that night, and Acacia did not go to her bed until early in the morning. By that time, she had decided to go.

Thus, Acacia had taken leave of the innkeeper at the Golden Grape, who seemed quite disappointed that she was leaving after such a short stay. She decided to get out early to browse at the local market one more time. There were several items that had caught her eye, but she hadn't quite decided yet. The time past quickly, and soon she had added a couple more items to her collection. A hawk feather necklace, an intricately carved top, nothing big or even useful, but she still considered them great finds. Acacia then hurried off to the where the meeting was going to be held, a place called the Black Vagabond. She had already figured out where it was, so she found it easily.

She quickly read the poster just outside the door once more, took a deep breath, and entered. There were already several others sitting in the room. She took a seat in a chair by the left wall near the center of the room, facing outward so she could see everyone there as was her usual style. After a few moments, after it was obvious they were still waiting for people, and Acacia took out her lute. She began quietly playing a song she had learned before she became a bard. It was a traditional harvest song in her hometown. She began softly humming the slow tune, the words playing through her head.

At the end of the summer,
When the moon again becomes full,
The people bring in the harvest,
Before the fall again becomes cool...

After several moments, Acacia became lost in the soft, slow melody of the song. She barely noticed as the room began to fill. After a while, a man she hadn't noticed before started speaking. She stopped playing, her attention caught as she realized who he was from the ring on his hand. So this is Prince Rydas, she thought, smiling and leaning forward to rest her head in her hand as she listened. He sounded so serious. It only made her want to find out what this was all about even more. Acacia smiled even wider, excited to hear more about this "Quest of a Lifetime," as the sign had put it.

Hayley was walking through the extremely dense crowds in the streets of Paetax, this place was not quite what it seemed or anything Hayley was told it'd be. Paetax was full of big, white buildings surrounding virtually every single street. Being the capital, it's normal that you expect a large city, but Paetax was the definition of the word 'Great'. The streets were so crowded with peasants, merchants and, much to Hayley's dismay, Guards. She knew it would be a great place for pickpocketing with so many people around, but also easy to get caught since it would be pretty hard to run in there.

She kept trying to force her way through the crowds with her tiny body as the sun reached the zenith. A bell rang, time seemed to stop as everyone quit whatever they were doing to look up to a tower. A second time, no one moved a muscle or made a noise. And finally a third, and it all came back with full force, like if nothing happened, people kept walking, talking or selling their goods. Unable to resist, she took the contents of a man's pocket. Only a few coins, letting out a sigh, she put the coins in her pocket and stole an apple from a merchant, taking a bite.

Hayley wandered through the crowds trying to follow the directions a farmer gave her as she entered the city. Rumors said there would be an opportunity of a lifetime in a tavern called 'The black vagabond'. Today she was wearing a dull brown dress, like half the peasants around. It was boring and unfashionable, but it was the easiest way to stay out of sight, Hayley didn't want to pick up a fight with these six feet tall, armored guards carrying a longsword each. But it's worth mentioning her hair probably drew a lot of attention due to its vivid color, Hayley made a mental note to get a hat as soon as possible.

The girl eventually reached the tavern, standing just outside the door she took a final bite an threw her apple away before pushing the door open. Hayley quickly moved to the bar, threw a few coins over the counter and ordered a drink. Taking a sip she looked around the place. There were only two exits, the front door and another one behind the counter, which probably led to an alley in the back. Not a single open window she could use. The good thing is that there were only two places to watch for incoming people.

She finished her drink and pressed her back against the wall. The place was probably full of thieves, assassins and god-only-knows-what-else. Hayley didn't want any of these to be in a position she couldn't see. Taverns have a slight tendency to get dangerous because of all the alcohol and dangerous individuals. Sometimes it degenerates to what Hayley likes to call 'Fun', but most people just call it a bar fight.

After a while, the owner left, a man stood up from the crowd and everyone went silent as he spoke. 'It must be a royal' Hayley though, his shiny armor was something pricey, only nobles and high officers of the kingdom usually wear those. Hayley was thinking about how much gold she could get by stealing his armor and selling it back on the black market, just to remember she would end up killed if she went back to Thoav. The girl couldn't help but smile, holding back a laugh, when the man mentioned 'risking her life for the King'. She wouldn't risk her life for the King, but his gold was a different thing...

Part of her wanted to just stay at the small cozy inn and remain in bed with the man she had spent the night with. But the other part of her wanted to leave before it became too intimate. Not in the physical way, but the other. She didn't want to get close. The only thing on Narenia Halen's mind was the poster she had seen around the city. Fame and fortune sounded good to her, so that was what she was heading for. She had packed all her things and wrapped the large cloak around her to conceal her body and the shortsword she carried. The bow was a little hard to hide, so it was merely on her back.
"Bread and water please. And cheese." she said to the barkeep once she came downstairs. He served the meal and took the payment, letting the woman eat in peace.

The sunlight made Nari narrow her eyes before she got used to it. Her feet carried the figure towards the town market. One hour after noon. she reminded herself and tilted her head, pulling up her hood. Staying hidden felt more welcome at the moment. Well, always. Nari didn't like to stand out in a crowd like this so her hood was almost always up. The market was bustling and full of people, but just as she entered the street it was on, the bell began to ring. Everyone stopped for a moment, listening to the first ring of the bell, then the second. Nari looked at everyone around her, trying to read their minds with her eyes. Only when the third wave of sound shot out into the streets did the people move again, as if nothing had happened. "Erie" she said under her breath, shrugging that feeling away. Finally discovering what she was looking for, the woman walked up to the stand of a bowyer. "Arrows." she said simply. They bargained over the price and what quality arrows she could afford. If I am to embark on this journey, I need some for hunting and for battle. her mind told her.
"I need some for hunting and some for battle. I'd want those jagged ones you've got as well." Again they bargained and at last came to a reasonable agreement of price, and Nari walked away with a satisfied smile.
Almost rushing towards the inn they were all to meet at, the woman was sure she was going to be late. But when she opened the door and stepped inside, there weren't anyone there really. Well, there was seven or eight people there.
Narenia picked a dark spot in the back and didn't take down her hood before she was in the shadows, so no one was really able to see her face but maybe her hair was visible on her shoulders.
The time there was for waiting she spent on studying every person in there. There was one man with shiny armor, seeming oddly placed in a tavern like this. A girl with a lute, what looked like mage. A big woman in armor, another man in armor. A dodgy looking man and a girl with flaming red hair. Then few left she hadn't come to yet had to wait their turn because now the man in shiny armor stood up and spoke, Nari listening intensely.

Rydas Errion
• • • • • • • • • • • • • •

As the bodies filled the room Rydas observed. Each entered as heir own accord, some more dramatic than others. There were a few that the Prince noted as oddities among a sea of strangers, but he would wait to see who would remain. Although an untimely entrance interrupted his speech he didn’t stutter or pause. Instead, he finished the articulation. Moments passed, allowing the attendant to mull over the options he’d presented. Nearly half the room rose and left, some silently and others with grumbling curse. When the movement ceased he glanced around again, scanning the faces and saving them to memory.

Eleven remained. A fair size, though a little less than he had hoped for and a little more than he expected. He wondered how many were there for the gold, and how many were there for the duty to their king. Common sense told him that the majority was for the first. In the few seconds before he continued he allowed himself a few first impressions. A women in yellow and a female mage were quiet and watching, much like himself. A shorter man played with a globe and smiled to himself at the mention of the reward. An armor clad lady was ridged and uncomfortable at the bar, despite her mead. Another mage stuffed his face seemingly un-opinionated at the task at hand. A dark haired woman, softly humming, appeared truly interested at what he had to say. A fire-haired girl sized him up, a look that instantly made him not trust her. A cleric, judging by his robes, surprisingly downed an impressive amount of mead, challenging him with his gaze. A woman in the back listened intently, he’d nearly missed her. Lastly, there was the shady man who’d entered late and was covered in blood that, by the looks of it, was his own.They were a motley group, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, or so his father always said.

Rydas nodded, and began to speak again. “The crown give it’s sincerest appreciation for your dedication to the cause.”

He paused, thinking how to word what he wanted to say. “The King’s health is not a secret. I’m going to be forthright to with you all, we still haven’t discovered the cause for his affliction nor found a cure. Without meaning to alarm anyone, desperate times call for desperate measures. I don’t feel I need to outline the possible dire consequences if The First King does not recover. Such things have led us to the current path.”

The Prince cleared his throat.

“As a result of the damage caused by the rampant magics in the Sortelige Wars there were many objects of power said to be destroyed. Among them was Panacea, the Amulet of Healing. Many historians think it wasn’t destroyed, that it was instead hidden. This is the object we seek. If you’re unversed with the past, Panacea is said to imbue it’s wearer with the gift of health, healing any malady that may plague them. Whether magic or disease, it would restore our Liege to proper health.”

It was laughable, maybe, but it was clear that he was serious. It was taboo for anyone to speak of the wars, much more so uncommon for someone of the royal family to bring it up. Those were dark times not to be remembered. However, it was a time that needed to be referenced to get the true effect of all the negatives that were on the horizon if the King didn’t awake.

“If you are still committed please, introduce yourself and provide reference of your occupation. It will be beneficial to know what each of us bring to the table. Please feel free to voice any questions or concerns as well.” Although he was certain all knew who he was, he provided example. “I am Rydas Errion, First Prince and Commander of the Kings Guard.”

While his full name and title was a bit arrogant, it was etiquette and filled out any questions about his qualifications. That was all he said, waiting for each to tell their own.

Mirabella shifted on her barstool and nursed her mead throughout the Prince's monologue. Though she was listening intently as Rydas confirmed many of the rumors that the farmer's wife had shared with her outside of the city walls, the fighter couldn't help the flash of surprise that crossed her face as he spoke of Panacea. In fact, it was all she could to do withhold laughter at the Prince's plan but she was smart enough not to express her opinion outwardly. The Prince was indeed desperate if he resorted to chasing after fairy tales and myths to cure his ailing father.

Their newfound leader opened the floor for introductions and she sat there, waiting for anyone to step forward but no one seemed ready for the attention. Unafraid and unwilling to let the troupe sit around in silence, she kicked back the rest of her mead in one gulp then lifted herself from her stool and turned, facing as many people as she could while she addressed them. For a female, she may seem quite imposing in her hand-forged armor that had been passed down to her from her mother and to her mother from her grandmother before that. Though aged and not as fine a quality as the armor that the Prince wore, it was obviously well taken care of. Since she was from a poorer region, her outfit was an eclectic mishmash of components- plate pieces over chain mail or heavy leather but the odd combination gave her a bit of dexterity that full plate would lack.

The voice that came from the imposing, metal-clad figure was probably surprising to anyone in the tavern. It was a voice that was strong and commanding yet oddly melodic, musical in the way she pronounced her words. A vague accent that would be easily recognizable as someone hailing from north of the Soch mountains though few ever dared to travel that far north without reason.

"I am Mirabella d'Adreci, daughter of Augustus and Selene from the village of Douvhran, outside of Vaekor." Her pale brown eyes went from figure to figure, gauging reactions to her introduction and whenever her eyes fell upon the mages, she couldn't keep her eyes from narrowing distrustfully. Obviously there was a deeper reasoning than mere hatred of all mages but she didn't seem the type to share such things openly.

"I am Triansui," she stated her rank and then adapted her wording for those unfamiliar with her culture, "A warrior of the highest caliber in our ranks. I fight with sword and shield or axe and shield and was born to be among those at the front lines." She kept her introduction short and sweet, since there were another ten or so that she would have to sit through, she was hoping that they took a cue from her and didn't drag out the meeting with any elaborate speeches. If they were going to go traipsing about the country looking for a mystical object then they would probably have many days to get to know each other.

Inclining her head towards the Prince in a semi-bow, she took her seat once more though this time with her back facing the counter so that she could watch everyone else as they made their introductions.

The Prince's short speech had ended, Xan watched as quite a few people had filed out of the tavern and back out into the streets to go about their normal days. He wondered why they even came in the first place, wasn't risking your life an everyday thing for adventurers? He shrugged at his own question as he watched the last of those that refused the quest leave the tavern, the door shutting behind and leaving only a handful of people behind, still waiting for the details of their journey. The door shut, and no one else in the room seemed as if they would leave the Prince continued on with another short speech, the details were a bit interesting. A mythical amulet that could heal any ailment was their goal, and one that's at an unknown location, and not even known if still exists. This little journey that he had volunteered for could take quite a bit longer than he had expected, but that just meant there was more time for interesting things to happen along the way.

'Introductions?' Xan thought as the Prince himself gave one, as well as another woman that was sitting at the bar had done. He thought about it for a moment, giving his name is easy enough, but what would his occupation be? Adventurer? No, an occupation would have to be something that you profit from doing, and thus far adventuring had brought him zero coin. He thought on what he does for money, he steals it from those that look as if they have more than enough, but how would the others react to him calling that an 'occupation'? He scratched his head for a moment before taking a deep breath, and a step forward.

"I am Xan Hallister, from a little town called Systril," the start was easy enough, "and occupation, well, I guess it would be a thief? But I've also been called a Rogue, scoundrel, rat, among other things" he gave a slight laugh at the thought. "I'm here for the adventure, since I promised my family back home great stories when I return, and I suppose the reward of gold couldn't hurt either" he thought for a moment to see if there was anything else to add. "I guess that's about it, so let's try to get along with each other on this journey," he said with a smile, giving a slight wave of his hand to everyone. He pulled out the chair that he was standing next to and sat down, showing that he had finished his introduction. He was a bit curious as to the identity of the others that had remained, how would all this work out for them, hopefully it won't end with the group going at each other's necks. He sat back in his chair thinking about it, would they kill each other, would they get along, or would they simply all see this as another job and put up with each other until it ends. He hoped they would all get along, a journey with a lot of tension wouldn't be any fun at all. He gave a slight sigh as he looked around, ready to hear the introduction of the others that were still around.

The prince had revealed himself, well maybe he never had been hidding on the first place but Akdov failed to recognize him all the same, he then listened to those who introduced themselves

The warrior woman spoke of herself and if weight was to be given to her words, she was even more dangerous than the priest waged at first, if arrows began to fly and blades to dance he would make a note to go to this woman for counsel and protection first.
An unsavory individual then introduced himself as well, a despicable shameless thug who seemed to harbor not even the smallest regret of being called a thief or a rat or a scoundrel, those men Akdov despised… there could only be penance and forgiveness with regret and the rogue seemed almost proud of his exploits

But Deud`s judgment will come child, sooner or later… maybe sooner

Without so much as a welcome a man in armor blitzed in, Akdov got hastily up from his seat ready to defend himself but the intruder made no following move of transgression.He introduced himself as the champion under the fourth banner of the Deluge, and stood there defiantly not bothering to seat or give any further explanation.

Are you late or do you like dramatic entrances?

Realizing that he was already up Akdov judged it was the right moment to talk and be true “It is indeed a shame prince that your father was none the wiser” some men would be careful with his words but regrettably Akdov had never learned to hold his tongue “A man protected by Deud has little to fear of poisons or diseases, by any chance do you know if the King was secretly a worshiper of the merry god?” his eyes gave all the answer he needed “I am a priest of Deud, who waits for us all in its great hall, my god and I cherish times of peace and know more of war than we would like to, if a king, heathen as he might be, falls then the delicate peace that we have come to enjoy will do as well and that is something that Deud won’t have, it is the reason I am here, to keep the peace”
He gave no name, he would not give it unless he was given a good damned reason to do so “You might call me priest, and I will look to save you from damnation both in your bodies and souls”

Nel's eyes fluttered open from her meditation to a full cup of foaming mead placed precariously on her table. The monk raised an eyebrow at the brown drink that appeared out of nowhere and twisted her neck to the barkeep behind her. As if reading her mind, Vinny tilted his head toward another patron of the bar, a towering individual with a blond mane of hair surrounding his face, from the hair atop his head and the beard hanging from his chin. Such an individual looked odd to Nel, seeing as everyone in the monastery normally either absolve themselves from hair or tied it back neatly, but the last few days traveling proved people did indeed grew their hair out for some bizarre reason. An odd thing that was. She started to notice how the Black Vagabond was also filed with more people. Brushing back a few strands of hair, Nel awkwardly waved to the person, but then a man slipped out from the shadows and started to give some sort of speech. The man spoke in riddles! Was there really a talking crown? What was a “Liege?” Most importantly however, was that more questions were answered then raised, they were searching for a healing amulet, and the man was a prince named Rydas Errion. Nel thought about that for a second: If princes were kings’ sons; this must mean he’s finding a cure for his father. A noble endeavor indeed. Someone came in through the back and when Nel saw the blood covered man; she was genuinely concerned for her own safety.

After people left, scared or intimidated perhaps, the remainder were opted to introduce. The first was a woman, who by the dress of her garb of metal and leather, must have been a warrior. Mirabella had a commanding presence and a strong voice yet a strange aesthetic beauty to boot. Nel was in awe of her. In the midst of said awe, her hand took a grip on the mug of brown liquid, and she looked inside of it.

The second man to introduce himself was…unsavory at best. Xan. Scoundrel, rat, thief, rouge, a sullied life indeed. At least he’s honest; she’ll give him that. Before going back to her drink, someone had rushed in. A tall warrior, towering even the man who gave her a drink, draped in metal from head to toe and a man by the sound of his voice. Gallon O …something-or-other. A “champion”. Despite the title, Nel can’t help but feel unnerved, probably because of the lack of face where the steel helmet was.

In the midst of it all, she started to feel nervous, and naturally tipped the glass that she still held in one hand over to her lips and let the strange foamy liquid in. It had an odd taste to it yet it seemed just as familiar as water itself. Amidst letting the liquid swish around her mouth; she looked with eyes of bewilderment as the man who gave this drink, as a present perhaps, started preaching. Her eyes slowly turned to slits, staring daggers at the priest, lips opened to promptly let the flavored water flow down back into the cup. His air of impotent superiority and lies was something that struck a chord to Nel. Her grip instantly tightened on the glass and in the midst of anger the mug was crushed, glass crunched together in between her fingers, leaving only the handle to fall to the floor among the rest of the glass shards. The noise was rather receptive as it catched various glances from the people in the room.

Taking a breath to calm down, she cleared her throat, and forced by her own actions, tried to introduced herself calmly. “My name is Nelinia Jaze from the Kula Monastery in Kiron.” She took a pause, unsure if any of them knew the congregation of 100 monks, the largest of the four monasteries. “We act as guards for the city and have been for over seven centuries in the while of attaining inner peace. Despite the lack of interest in the Monastery for the King; I have come here on my own accord.”

With that, she uncrossed her legs, and started to pick up various shards of glass that hit the floor and put them on the table.
“Always clean up your own mess, child. Never let people be your servant. Be your own servant.”

Hayley stood there, leaning against the wall as the Prince revealed more details about the king's condition, and more importantly, about the possible quest. Another man entered the room as she listened to the Prince's fairy tale about the magic item rumored to be able to save his father. Such an item probably doesn't exist, and the few that don't come out of tales told to children are long lost or destroyed because of the dangers their power brings. Finally, the Prince introduced himself and called for the others to do the same.

She was a rogue, a thief, or whatever you want to call it. Hayley was used to fading in the dark, not to the spotlights. She didn't move an inch or say a word as she waited. Eventually, people started introducing themselves. First a tall, armored woman, describing her prowess with weapons that Hayley didn't find important or interesting. Then a 'fellow' rogue, coming from a small town Hayley was unable to point in a map. She hoped this thief was unfamiliar with "Thoav Underground", it would be very sad if she had to kill another person because of that. After the rogue, another warrior introduced himself, this time a giant by Hayley's definition, she was surprised someone this big didn't come out of the scary stories Hayley heard when she was young. The next two adventurers were rather unusual, a "priest of dude", Hayley wasn't into any religion, but heard priests, clerics and the like could call the strength of their gods to them. The last one to speak was what Hayley thought to be a monk, wearing a bright yellow cloak and talking about inner peace, at least Hayley liked her clothes.

Hayley decided it was time to introduce herself, the one in the middle isn't given much attention anyway. She took a deep breath, Hayley hated this part where everyone was paying attention to her. Still leaning casually against the wall she started introducing herself. "I am Hayley Furdiligit." She started, hoping no one would waste much time thinking about her last name. "And I am a..." She looked for words to describe how she earned her life through stealing and other acts that would probably have her hanged or imprisioned. "Merchant, from Thoav." Hayley finished, not really the truth, but it wasn't a lie after all. She was born in Thoav even though she hadn't set foot there for a long time. She was also a merchant of sorts, she frequently sold stolen items or otherwise retrieved under suspicious circumstances and smuggled illegal goods for a living.

She watched as the prince spoke, introducing himself and explaining to all of those gathered what they were to set upon. Nari hadn't wasted much time thinking about lost magical artifacts much, but she had heard of them.
After the handsome First Prince was done talking, he would let every man and woman in the Black Vagabond state their name and what else of important knowledge they deemed necessary to share. Nari watched them all as they one by one stepped forth. A rather unsavory sort of man, not afraid of calling himself a thief spoke up. The dark haired ranger locked her eyes on the prince. He didn't seem to call for the guards or anything and no one rushed to seize him.
A big armored woman as well. She'll come in handy in combat. Nari thought and smirked. Her ears twitched when the big brute of a man started talking about his god. Here we go...Another preacher. she sighed and shook her head. Never had she been one for gods and prayers. Ever. She made her own living and lived her own life. Hunted her own food and fought her own battles. Although this time, it would seem she would be fighting someone else's battle for once. Nari was still standing in the shadows, not daring to come forward yet.

She seemed like a monk by garb. Her face didn't really reveal anything, since Nari couldn't see it. In her hand, the monk held a mug of mead. When the 'big brute' spoke, it was crushed in her hand. Apparently, what he said had not been in accordance with her. As another woman who had been standing against the wall started introducing herself, the monk was picking up pieces of glass from the floor. "Might as well get it overwith." Nari said under her breath.
The ranger stepped forward and pulled her hood down, revealing her auburn hair. She stopped at the monk and gently took her hand. She smiled and gently and picked shards out of her hand.
"I am Narenia Halen. I'm a ranger. Never did I think I would find myself in such a.." Nari trailed off as she looked up at the people gathered. She wrapped the cloth around the monks hand and tied it, making sure she wasn't hurting the girl. "Such a varied group of people." Her eyes shifted to the prince and locked on his. "I favor the bow and arrow, and I'm here to help you on your quest."
They didn't have to know that she mainly was in for the money, she would fight no worse and no better because of it. All they had to know, was that she could.

The only spot of trouble she could see already, was that maybe the 'Beer Priest' could get on her nerves. He didn't seem like the type to remain silent when he should, but on the other hand would speak his mind whenever he wanted to. That in itself was fine by Nari, but when it came to gods and religion, one might be careful with words. Especially since there were people of other religions gathered here. The monk for one.
Nari sat down on the chair behind the table the monk was sitting on, and let her bow rest again the edge of the surface. She looked around, watching the faces she came across. Not much response from anyone so far, so whether they thought her friend of foe was still unclear. Time would have to show.

Once the prince started talking, Callavan ordered a second mead as he found an empty mug a sorry sight. He had to suppress a laugh when the prince mention the Panacea. No wonder he's hiring this sorry lot. He didn't want to waste soldiers on a snipe hunt. He stayed though. It was paying work at least, and, hell, maybe they would find it. There might even be some other treasures to be had.

His introduction could wait, he wanted to see what the others would say first. The warrior wasn't much of a surprise, but he couldn't figure out why she was giving him such a look. He had a bit of a chuckle at the simpleton who admitted to being a thief and Gallow who just stood there looking like a fool. The priest caught him off guard, he had been expecting Akdov to be another fighter. And he wasn't sure what to make of the monk, or what a monk was for that matter. The merchant managed to raise his curiosity. She didn't seem like any of the merchants he had met back home. The archer seemed nice enough, if a bit boring.

With the second drink driving a fire in his belly he ordered a third and raised it up, figuring he might as well speak. “Callavan Sole of Thoav, mage for hire.” After a thought he added, "Guild approved of course." He lowered his mug and took a gulp. “I specialize in traps and enchantments, but...” He held his left hand out, the tattoo on his palm facing upward, and felt the familiar tingle run down his harm as he channeled magic to it and a small burst of flame came forth. Not enough to cause any damage, just a little flash to impress the common folk. “I can offer some ranged support as well.” He paused, taking another drink. The mead was already weeding itself into his mind, muddling with his thoughts. He didn't mind too much, enjoying for the moment the feeling that his mind was freer somehow. ”I'm just in this for money and glory,” he admitted.

Ive done it again

Shame was something Akdov would presume himself above of, but he had made a mistake with the monk and was now regretting it, he should not have offered a drink to the people that place so much value to the purity of body and mind, a purity that could be potentially tainted by alcohol, neither had he failed to notice how his words have triggered something on her, she crushed his token of good will, the priest realized that the lass might not be a potential believer after all, still he would try.

Then came the emerald eyed archer, she had said everything about her while saying nothing at the same time, clever girl knew how to select her words in the end she had revealed what was needed to know, she was a marksman and probably the one who would be of most assistance if the priest ever craved for fresh boar meat... then... then came the fire-crotch

O shes full of it

Akdov drank till the cup was empty as the merchant woman introduced herself, he thought it would be hard for someone to top his loathing for this shameless gut known as Xan, but Deud preached for the sincerity and the lack of secrets that his drunken visitors showed and this woman... who did she think she was fooling?

"So weve got a Triansui, a rogue with pride, a champion of foreign lands, a kula monk, a ranger..." he stopped and drank more from the cup that Vinny had passed him "- mage for hire and a bard girl and we got need of a merchant?" Akdov was saying loud enough for everyone to hear but wasn't addressing anyone in particular, almost as if he was thinking in loud voice

I'm not letting you got off this

"Supposing our prince here needed to finance his campaign I don't see why we would need a merchant, unless said merchant deals with death or..." he looked at the area where her legs joined and chuckled "Well the flesh is weak isn't it?" he then noticed some looks and continued "Crap i am thinking out loud again!" he laughed out loud and allowed the sounds from his gutter to fill out the hall

He turned to the mage for hire and said " you look like a reliable lot good man, Deud appreciates honest men such as yourself, in me you will find an ally so long as you keep true"

hopefully salvation as well

"Sweeten my mood and drink with me damned heathen!" he said in a jesting tone which he coupled with a pat to the mage´s back that he was hoping would make the mage at ease "Vinny get us something to drink, curse you I can still count to 10 without pausing!" he looked towards the bard and lifted his cup and made a nod which he coupled with a smile, if Deud willed it she would receive this as a sign of good will

The bard girl's words were lost on Callavan, feeling that there was no place for a bard in this venture, so he didn't bother to pay her any heed. Instead he quaffed his drink and finished what remained of his meager meal. Or, at least, he tried to until Akdov's comments got him laughing. Though he had been trying to eat so the laughing caused him to choke and cough and beat on his chest until he could breath again. Then he managed to have himself a proper chuckle.

”Oh, you're so cruel to my fellow Thoavian,” he put particular malice on the last word, making sure that he met her eyes. ”Certainly, she appears to have no goods to sell or even the coin that selling them would bring. But I'm sure she must be able to provide a great a deal that would benefit us on our travels. Perhaps some spices or some particularly fine silverware. Or even better, a shipment of fish wherever we may go in this great land” He had himself another chuckle and turned back to the bar only for the priest to keep speaking to him.

Mayhaps it was the mead talking, but Akdov was starting to grow on him, despite his obsession with Deud. ”An ally, eh? I suppose I'll be needing one if I'm to be traveling with this motley crew.” He stroked his beard in thought for a moment, though no thoughts seemed to occur to him. It just seemed like the proper thing to do at the time. ”I'll take you up on that, and the drink as well,” he said, accepting the offer for another round. Holding his mug up to Akdov, he continued, ”May we drink ourselves into a stupor, for we must be fools to accept this quest.” With that he downed the drink in a single go and slammed the mug on the counter, eager for more.

Now.. why was everyone looking at him so strangely? The reasons were too many to number, and he cast the thought aside.

Gallow's attention was immediately turned to the priest who had bolted to his feet so amusingly. The man's words were grating on Gallow's ears, and for good reason. He seemed arrogant and vain, like most that followed his path in the names of whatever divines they claimed to be the mouthpieces for. The Deluvians did not believe in a religious caste. All priests were good for was adding complication and bureaucracy to something that should remain purely personal. A man or woman's church was their home and they worshiped, or chose not to, mostly as they pleased in the Deluge. The man's bloated sense of self-righteousness fired Gallow up to no end, but he kept his words in his throat, no matter how badly his tongue burned for him to reprimand the oaf.

“You might call me priest, and I will look to save you from damnation both in your bodies and souls." Gallow made a sound of distaste at nearly the same time he heard the sound of glass shattering. He had to turn his entire upper body to look, and saw a woman who claimed to be a monk. Apparently he shared some amount of her distaste for the clergyman, though maybe not quite to her degree. He paid little mind to the so called "merchant". He'd seen innumerable merchants and traders before, and though they'd all had a crafty air about them something about this girl rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps just his imagination? Possibly. He made a mental note to be wary. As the ranger began to make her introductions Gallow moved nearer the counter, minding the bloodied man behind it, and continued scanning the ragtag ensemble from the helm's thin slit. A ranger.. he'd met a few of those during his time, and they'd varied greatly every encounter. He gauged her by her words and her manner. She was concise, sparing no time for weaving flowery yarns about herself. Good, he grumbled. There was little reason to say more than needed, especially when all it did was waste breath. Both she and the monk shared that attribute. He could not tell what worth a monk would be, but kept his mind open.

Now, the mage was certainly an oddity. He'd not often seen one who looked so.. rugged? Warmages followed a warrior's path, but with Guild training, and so they kept themselves neat as Deluvian martial standards dictated. Other than them, most mages he'd seen seemed more scholarly. An interesting fellow, to be sure. And maybe it was the mead (which Gallow was sure the man was drinking), but he did speak his mind. Not always a good trait, especially so if the speaker was anything like that boastful blackguard of a priest, but in certain doses it could amount to respectability. And then came the bard. His first thought was most obviously: A bard? What use does a bard serve outside spinning tales and singing songs? They were entertainment, after all, and usually little else. Not to say that he did not appreciate the talent of a good rhapsode! Oh, no. Learned poets of high calibre were greatly valued by the Ulaid, and their songs and stories were often the added highlights of many a tavern throughout the Deluge. As for her claim of being able to defend herself.. well.. they would see about that, eventually. She seemed a peculiar one, especially with the way she fell back into her seat and fiddled with a blade. Not odd in a negative way, at least not yet.

The uproarious priest decided it would be a proper time to fire his mouth off, again. Oh, sweet Donn, if only you would see fit to silence this foolish brute, he lamented silently, deciding not to spare a word at the man's worthless expense.

"So weve got a Triansui," Gallow's ears pricked up immediately, his eyes finding a haphazardly armored figure seated elsewhere in the tavern. Another soldier.. the surprises were to continue, then. His thoughts completely deafened him for a moment, and he missed the rest of what the priest had said, although that was more than likely a tremendous blessing. He said a quiet prayer of thanks to the gods. He glanced once more at the Prince, and retired to the counter. Dropping his axe to lean against the wood, Gallow unlatched his helm, slipped it off and set it down. The priest and the mage were now fit to celebrate, and with the adrenaline gone that familiar uncomfortableness was just setting in, again. It was all just obnoxious noise, and it had his nerves on edge.

His throat was dry, and his whole body felt uneasy right down to his core. He ordered a glass of wine, paying the man who served him with a few coins, and sipped at his drink slowly. Teachings among his people made clear the proper method for the consumption of wine. If one did not assert temperance then they might be overcome by drunken fits of violence. Deluvians had a long history of wine making, and as such it was rooted in their culture. Their largest trade with northern Calisma was wine, in fact. He could recall the vineyards sprawling on for eternity under a warm sun, bordered by rolling green on all sides. The memories brought him comfort in the din, and he yearned for the peace to remain.

Feylon winced as his head began to feel the pain once more, long gone was the effects of adrenaline in his body and slowly the pain had begun to seep back in. He knew he should not have gone to the meeting on his own. He probably should not have gone to the meeting at all, after all he didn't have what they wanted. Still whats done was done and he needed to focus on the task at hand, getting into this motley group of wannabe adventurers. Looking around the room he saw at least a few of them looked like they could swing a sword and perhaps if they were lucky not kill themselves with it.

He turned as the first began to speak. A woman, dressed in fine armor and expensive by the looks of it. Hardly worn and well taken care of? Well that means one of two things. Either she avoids fights and is not as great a warrior as her title suggests, or she is really not someone to mess with. I'll wait and see to reserve judgement on that one" Next the thief. Now a thief was the sort of person he would find himself getting to know. As a person of the shadows himself he reckoned that they would have similar interests and, well, lets say ambitions. Feylon made a mental note to speak more to the thief if time allowed.

Next up, although perhaps a little premature was the warrior from the South, although in his view they were more barbarians than noble warriors, but for now he would keep that to himself. He didn't want to piss anyone off that would perhaps be travelling with him for long periods of time. At least not yet anyway. The next, well what needed to be said about the next person to introduce oneself? A priest, a self-centered, self-righteous priest. Feylon didn't need to think about how well they would get along at all, already he despised the man. Perhaps a little unfair to judge someone so quick but so far Feylon was unimpressed.

A monk then brought herself forward, again unimpressed Feylon decided to not bother listening at all and zone out completely until the next participant stood up, the "merchant" from Thoav. Feylon didn't know how to read her like the others, he wasn't sure what to think of her just yet apart from the fact that she was a really bad liar. That he was certain of. However her hair, he seemed to be drawn to the fiery head, people in the city had such boring haircuts hers was a breath of fresh air. As people kept introducing themselves Feylon began to get bored, he looked down into a cup of mead he had poured himself and put money into the hands of the barkeep of whom he knew quite well. When the mage stepped up he let out a deep sigh. He had mixed feelings about mages, some of them walking around the place acting like they were the best things since barreled mead and the others, well they just wander around lazy as can be not helping anyone but themselves with their magic.

Then the ranger stepped up, just like himself it made him smile. He found other rangers to be the best company when travelling. They could adapt to the people around them more than others. At least he liked to think that anyway. Then he strayed off again. Thinking to himself, about what lay ahead. He was abruptly interrupted by an outburst of people in front if him. Feylon saw the warrior lady stand up and shouting at the people in front of her. He couldn't help but laugh and finally stand up to have his go.

"Tell me good Prince, you stand here trying to assemble a team of adventurers and yet right here in front of your eyes they fight. How do you expect to command a rabble of bandits and thieves when people are pressured and stressed out in the field of combat if you cannot even control them here in your city? Maybe you aren't the natural leader you think you are. Maybe....maybe that's why you weren't your fathers favorite." Feylon let out a quick sly smile and continued to talk. "Also I find this whole adventure rather suspicious. You seem to be ready to abandon your duties here to chase some fairy tale that might save you father on a whims notice. That either takes one of two things, a real sense of honor and love or a deep sense of guilt. That to me sounds like the most probable one. Maybe you were sick of your father not treating you properly. Maybe you decided to get him sick and heal him again. Scare him into realising that you are his only hope. I reckon thats what happened but it took a wrong turn somewhere and now to get him back to full health you need to go chasing down myth's and legends. I don't know Prince, you tell me" Feylon smirked and let out a sly snigger. Hoping to get some sort of reaction from the prince and the adventurers in front of him.

Though he appreciated the priest's attempt to draw the wench's ire, Callavan wasn't one to to back down from a fight so easily.

Grinning, he said, “ Sure you want to do that 'merchant'?” He dropped his hand to down to his side with the hope that she wouldn't notice. The magic was already boiling away in him, ready to be used at a moments. His first move was already planned out. Nothing fancy, he'd wait for her to make the first move then he'd launch a fireball. It wouldn't even have to hit, the distraction alone would be enough for him to jump over the counter, putting something between them.

Then the Triansui started to speak. Some of what she said rang true to him. The rest stank of insult. His words may have been barbed, but they could cause no harm to whoever this fool girl was and she had pulled a knife on him. Yet he was the one being chastised. Was this swordswoman blind? Could she not detect such a blatant lie.

Regardless he focused back on his assailant. ”Well girl? Still think fightin' me's such a great idea?” His temper might have been slightly cooled by the Triansui's words, but he was spoiling for a fight now. Akdov's departure didn't even register with him. ”Think you can even take me?” Sparks popped from his palm, he had started channeling magic without realizing it.

The bloodied stranger seemed to be taunting the prince. He heard a couple more start talking, but he didn't pay them any mind. Callavan didn't care, he just kept watching the 'merchant' over his shoulder, daring her to strike. ”Do you really think anyone here is going to fall for such flimsy lies? What are you really? An assassin sent here to kill the prince? Or maybe you're here just sabotage his quest. No, those don't sound right. You lack the subtly those require. Perhaps the priest was right and you're nothing but a two bit whore. That's not right though, you're not pretty enough for that. No, I think you're just a lost little girl who's gotten in over her head.”

Mirabella d'Adreci

((Outside of the Black Vagabond))

The doors pushed open, startling a few commoners that were lingering by the tavern's doors and windows to try to sneak a peek of the gathering. Apparently, once word had spread that the Prince himself was in attendance the brave and curious came 'round to investigate. A few made motions as if they were going to ask the warrior lass for more information but the look in her eye had them all scurrying back to their posts and they stayed still even when the Priest barged out after her.

“Lady I think we need a word about this whole endeavor, something is rotten in this company and I think you are the one with the best judgment.”

Mirabella pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to distract herself from an oncoming headache and to try to ease the tension that she had hoped would dissipate without anyone to hover over her. Since she had no time to relax, no time to even take a deep breath, her ire was still simmering right beneath the surface and she let some of that spill out onto Akdov.

"You wish to seek my council?" She retorted, unable to keep the hint of incredulity from her voice as she turned to face him head on. "You. A priest much older than I? You are one of the reasons I am disappointed in this...." she paused to search for the word, her lips contorting slightly as if the phrase was bitter on her tongue, "Expedition. I saw you and I thought... 'Here is a man that will lead us on the right path. He is a priest so he must be benevolent and wise and strong.' Do you know how disheartening it is to realize that I trust no one in there at this moment? There are so many in there that are younger than even I am. That need guidance and leadership and someone to counsel them and do you think I am the woman for the job? No! I should not be but I also will not stand by while you ridicule people. It is obvious that she lied but did you stop to think that she is embarassed by her occupation?"

She paused, hoping that it would sink in even though she didn't think it would. He seemed to have his world easily separated into black and white, right and wrong categories with no room for negotiation. "Maybe she has had a rough life and turned to whatever it is she does to make a living but do not sit there and judge her when I highly doubt you or anyone else in there has led a life free of sin."

She had obviously run out of steam with her rant but if he (and every commoner within earshot, it seemed) had gleaned anything from her diatribe it would be that she was quite honest when she decided to share her opinions. In regards to that honesty, she didn't actually trust anyone but she seemed to be far more willing to give people a chance to prove her correct. Cynic that she was.

Despite on being one's hands and knees, picking up pieces of glass amongst the flavored water, Nel still held an open ear. After her, the prince spoke to her, expressing his gratitude and knowledge of the order. It was delightful to know someone knew the monastery, her whole world until a few days ago, and it was such a relief. After the prince was a girl with fire-like hair; a merchant! The oddest place to find a merchant would be here and she wondered what was her reason: Fame? Glory? Duty? Riches? All four? Whatever it might be, Nel had to admire her aspirations, her courage for trying her hand at such a quest since she looked so frail and brittle. In truth, the tale of the merchant had a far better ring then that of the warrior, fighter, and others, more so because of her hidden bravery! Maybe it can someone Nel can really relate to, after all, she didn't know how to swing a sword, shoot a bow, magic, or even navigate a forest...thank goodness for roads. Some normalcy in this adventure, slowly starting to sound more absurd as seconds flew by, was what she truly needed.

When all of a sudden, her hand was grasped, and she jumped up, scared and ready to throw a blow until she saw it wasn't an enemy. When Narenia introduced herself, it felt, although she was speaking to the room, like she was speaking to the monk herself as she garnered to some of the glass on her hand. She only realized then, the large pieces of glass protruding from her bandaged palm, and the bit of blood that it managed to seep through the new-but-now-sullied bandages. "Thank you, Narenia." She said gratefully as she turned around to Narenia behind her, face beaming an innocent smile. "I just...uhm...slipped...my hand." Nel said awkwardly in her attempt to justify the mess, just noticing then the scar across her companions left eye, turning back to sweep the rest of the mess on her hand. Her hand DID slip. Into breaking the glass.

When she tool a seat back down in her chair the next to speak was...the man with the beard. Nel didn't knew the man but he could spot him a mile away with that beard and she was sure, so sure, that it twitched ever so slightly. She squinted her eyes just in case but it didn't move again. Like it knew it was being watched. The owner of the beard was Callavan, a mage, surprisingly since he didn't look like the scholarly type, or smart for that matter as he downed another glass of flavored water.. He showed them a little fire from the palm of his hand and Nel was instantly envious. How easier it would be to make a fire if she could just place her palm up to some deadwood. Then again, she'd have to forget the finer things of life. Like handshakes. Don't give the bearded man a handshake. The next person to speak was a bard. A bard! Her eyes lit up as Acacia, (axe-say-see-ya?) introduced herself, and she was ecstatic at the presence of someone who can play the lute. Or who can sing! Or who can do both! In the midst of the monk's thoughts, the priests words protruded her ears, and thoroughly pushed aside the fantasies of music.

She knew why he hated the priest: because he was a priest. Nel didn't in particular liked the memories that served her when someone shouted their deity whole-heatedly into the air as an excuse. Those memories served as fodder to the fire of hate. What use did priests have in such a group? Nel turned away from the conversation when it got too difficult to understand after merchants dealing with death and the flesh is weak or something. Meaningless euphemisms. The monk leaned over from her chair to grab her quarterstaff that she placed flat on the ground, something not a lot of people would have noticed, and placed it on her lap. She could feel herself slowly slipping and closed her eyes. Breath in. Breath out. A simple meditation the monastery taught children for it's simple, effective, easy use. Yet it didn't work. The voices were loud. Really loud. People were talking loudly. It was burning her ears; disturbing the meditation. She tried to block out the noise but the noise was just blocking her out. The oddest thing was: this felt familiar, like she went through this before.

Then she remembered. Children. She loved children, yes, but not the youngest ones, the newest ones, those who had to make noise consistently. That's it. This is a room full of children. Not even good children who learnt well from their elders and grew stronger, with their bodies and minds everyday, but the rotten ones, those who cry and complain, cry and complain, cry and complain, cry and complain, eat, then cry and complain again. A headache. Too few to care for yet enough to dread. It truly needed to stop. Why were the merchant and the bear- mage even doing in the first place fighting? Nel took a careful step off the chair, leaving the quarterstaff to lean up against the table she sat at, and walked toward the counter where the two were near to fighting. Just as Callavan finished his nasty insult, the monk drew closer, to get as close as she can in between them without wedging herself in. "Can you two please stop fighting?" Nel asked innocently, forearms brought to her chest, almost as is she was praying except her hands weren't clasped together. The position had little spiritual meaning though as it's easier to bring arms down then it is to bring them up if it shall come to it. She wish she had better words to say but none other could dare come to mind then.

She was rightfully pissed, good, a person enveloped in rage was sincere, and her words showed that she had never seen a cleric of Deud before, there might be a good reason for that
“Child age has blessed me with wisdom but I can only lead the faithful and those people would never put weight in my words I can tell, did you saw how they looked at you?” He sat, anger had soiled her fair features “If they are lying to us about something so simple how we can trust them for anything, do not think my actions are without plan, this whole bait and act has drawn the ones that can be relied upon… I was hoping it would be the prince but it seems not to be the case”

Where is a drink when I need one?

“The life of the clergy has seen attempts again my life over and over again, I am a blasphemer and the root of evil to several institutions… I will say this, you have to question everything that is given” he was not seeing any real impact on his words
“What I mean is, the prince could have easily assembled a better team himself a group of elite knights that had shared operations or the like… if he’s coming to strangers he has not seen before that either makes me believe he is desperate or that something far more sinister is at play here, he is prince yes, but no heir and none of us are bastions of virtue or admirations as you just saw… All I saw there were perfect scapegoats… but for what?” it was ill to sow even more doubt amongst the ranks but he would not hold what he saw
“I can only say that I trust the mage for hire, the monk and yourself… despite my liking for the bard she is far too innocent and sweet, something is amiss there and the disdain the monk harbors towards me, would not, could not be a part of a facade… and the merchant is far too hot headed to be of use, the right words and she could be the knife at the night to end us”
He glanced around, nobody could be listening now, not to him at least “Its better to weed out those that we can trust from those we can’t, there are many who would benefit from the king`s demise… did you looked at the prince? I challenged him and he stayed to goddamn calm, my every action was meant to touch nerves and it has served me well… one does not stay alive long with such reckless behavior”

If she is part of the plot I am a dead man

"I dont have the strength to stand in combat to any of them, I am a priest and I can only pray for the best, but goddamn sometimes it is easier to pray to forgiveness in stead of divine intervention, if it comes to it, whats your take on this?"

The innocent monk had thanked her and smiled brightly. It was only returned by Nari. One friendly action deserved another. It would seem though, that everything from here on would spiral downwards.
The priest had overspoken and of course did the woman with armor - Mirabella - taken offense to it. After a short verbal insult had she left the room only to have the priest trailing after her.
I wonder how that's going to turn out. Nari thought and raised her eyebrow. The 'merchant' had proved her temper to be that of...well.. She was hot headed to say the least. Not a moment had it taken for her to take offense and retaliate to everything the mage said. Nari's first intention was to go over to the unbelieveable rude man and tell him how exactly you talk to a woman. She had went from the red-haired woman to a wench and a whore in a considerable short amount of time. The monk with the wounded hand was still remained in her seat and kept calm for the moment. As she looked with her piercing green eyes, so did a few others in the room. A man that seemed troubled and acted like he didn't really care much for what was going on, the prince himself and the girl with the lute. For now at least.

The other man, the other ranger, or that was what Nari would guess him to be, spoke to the prince now. Just within earshot, his female counterpart could her what he was saying.
Either that man is stupid or he's been paid to do that. She thought, expecting a blow from the prince's sword any moment now. But nothing happened. All that came from him was a bone chilling warning, hopefully effective enough to make the foolish man step down. How quickly this had descended into a mere brawl and petty squabble. This wasn't what she had come here for, not at all. Nari wanted to stop the fighting and make everyone pipe down, but feared that because of her proud nature she would end up holding a knife to someone's throat. Especially the mage if he so much as dared calling her a whore.
A smile crept across her face as the innocent little monk stood and approached the bickoring couple in an attempt to end their dispute. How unlikely and unexpected that was.
Maybe she can stop them now that they seem to completely ignore their prince's command. Nari had thought that his words would have an effect on them, alas it seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Were they even aware of his presense still?

A deep sigh came from the female ranger as she looked around. The mage was surrounded by three women, two of them trying to calm the red-head down and the prince was companied by the foolish insultant. It still hadn't settled with her how a man could be so reckless as to insult a man like him, even Nari had more brain than that. The troubled man had spoken as well, but his words too seemed to fly right past everyone. Everyone except Nari at least. She nodded at him and tilted her head with a shrug and a sigh. She didn't say anything to him as he had already sat down.
In fear of losing her own temper and seeing this group worsen, making their quest seem even more impossible, the ranger woman walked towards the prince this time. He had this thing about him. Something that demanded respect, but Nari wouldn't give respect unless it was returned. And there was the fact that everytime someone made a quick move or the like, his hand went to the hilt of his sword.
"My prince."she started. "Pardon my interruption, but I fear that neither of us had expected the outcome of this meeting. Perhaps a bucket of ice cold water would cool their heads?" Nari smiled half joking as she nodded in respect to him, letting her piercing green eyes settle on the orbs in his head. "Or maybe we should - pardon me - you should give them a choice? If this nonsense can't be stopped, then there's no sense in going on this quest either." Nari leaned on her bow, glancing over at the other ranger. She awaited an answer as she too hoped that the feud and fight behind her would cease and end soon. Her patience was wearing thin.
Thank whatever gods that at least my temper isn't as bad as hers. her mind went and her eyes settled upon the red haired 'merchant' once again, before returning to the prince.

Mirabella d'Adreci

The Priest made his thoughts known to Mirabella and still, they did not settle well. Before this day she would have thought herself to be the pinnacle of cynicism and distrust but the older man had trumped her. "I do not see how you can even try to justify your actions in that tavern. Like begets like. You treated her with disrespect and hostility and she felt threatened and reacted. If you had said the same slanderous things to me than I would have had a blade by your throat as well."

Her tone was less violent now but still held a simmering anger. She had always despised it when people acted poorly and then tried to justify their actions instead of setting things right. "By the same token, the mage that you so dearly love? You've treated him like gold and he has become friendly to you. Is that such a surprise?" She shook her head, her eyes holding something akin to pity for the Priest. "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link and you just fractured a half a dozen relationships in there before they could even begin. Now, instead of a cohesive unit that wants to fight for each other as much as the task at hand, they will be second guessing and doubting and paranoid. If you had a split second when the merchant called out to warn you to duck from an oncoming arrow... Would you heed her call or think her a liar and remain standing?"

She reached up, pressing her hands against her face and rubbing her fingertips up along her temples to ease the tension which there remained despite her best efforts. "And as far as the Prince is concerned? Did you stop to think that there is a power vacuum at the moment? Perhaps the elite are best spent guarding the King instead of going on a desperate last ditch attempt to find something, anything to save him. I can only say that I will trust fully in him until he gives me a reason not to and if you do not feel the same way then perhaps it is best that you forgo this mission. Whatever honor and glory you hope to attain will be lost if your actions cause our quest to fail before it begins."

Looking towards the Black Vagabond's door, she decided- "I, however, am going to entrust my blade to his cause." Though not happy with Akdov, she wasn't rude either and she inclined her head in an informal bow before leaving his presence and pushing her way back inside. Her honey-colored eyes held a fiery determination now and she ignored all others as she pushed through the crowd. Withdrawing her sword from its sheath with her right hand, she advanced until she was right in front of the Prince before turning her blade so that its tip hit the ground as she knelt down on one knee in front of him.

"My Prince, I am with you until the end. Until the Panacea is around your father's neck or until my body no longer draws breath."

Feylon's eyes remained fixed to the prince. He had found precisely the sort of reaction he was looking for. The Prince seemed to be able to keep his cool even though he did show some sign of temper that had almost lashed out. The Prince remained calm and composed with only a slight flicker of rage externally. Feylon managed to get this out of him and it was the the answer he needed. He needed to provoke that sort of reaction. He did not however expect the whole situation inside the bar to get quite so out of hand. Already the scene had escalated into a tense standoff because of hollow words. "Already this is promising to be a lovely adventure, I bet we can expect friendship, love and unicorns flying out of our asses with this lot" Feylon grunted and returned his attention to the Prince.

With the sly smile still firmly in position he opened his mouth to speak once more, if not shout a little to jump over the noise being created by others. "You musn't understand Prince. I am merely curious as to why you have come here to us for this task. We are but strangers who clearly do not work well together. I take it you must not trust the people within your own castle walls if you cannot find a company of adventurers from the warriors you command. Then again I could be wrong."
Feylon now realised he had not introduced himself to the room yet, not that anyone seemed to care. Still however as courtesy to those before him he cleared his throat and began once more.

"I am Feylon Haradas. I have no fancy title and no special birth place. I am one of the Taphon clans from the forest of the same name to the South. An ex-soldier in the Royal army. As for my occupation, well to put it simply I am an assassin and a spy. My employers are, for now of my own business and secrecy." Feylon placed his hand upon his forehead. When he pulled his hand back down again he could see the traces of blood in the small crevices of his fingerprints. "Now if you will excuse me, I think I need some fresh air." Slowly Feylon swiveled on his toes and walked out of the back door he came in. The fresh air hit him with a stunning blow. Everything in his head seem to be washed out of his ears and he suddenly became lightheaded. He slouched up against the wall and slipped onto the ground. He sat for a few moments before producing a pipe from inside his tunic. He could feel the blood trickle down his face like a tiny river meandering its way through a field. Once more he slowly dabbed his fingers over the gash and rested his head against the wall of the tavern. "well fuck" he thought as the blood continued on its relentless path.

„Outrageous” Said the young captain as an older looking gentleman entered his office. He was somewhere around his fifties and wore a very distinctive tunic similar to the black tonic of a modern judge. He took a sit without much ado, grabbed a small deviant looking pipe out of his pocket and lit it. “Excuse me, lord uncle, but I will sit down and let this ludicrous enterprise of his!” Darius walked up to a window viewing over the northern side of Paetax.
“The decision has been made whether you approve of it or not. You knew the whole situation had been keeping him on his toes. With one Errion about to collapse into his final slumber, you'd expect the other one to try do something about it. Ever since the death of his brother, Rydas whole situation has been extremely unstable.” Lord Wesson's assessment was more than a small understatement. In many ways it had been his fault. During the earlier years of their life, he had left the children live a rather carefree life. Who would've guessed a tragedy would destroy the life of a prince and end the life of another one.

“And who's fault is that?” Darius turned around and glared at him reprehensively. “You always kept those two way too close to each other. You don't stick two young lions into the same cave and expect them to cuddle.” Darius was utterly infuriated, but he knew he had gone too far with his last words. Silence filled his office. It had been some time since he had become a royal captain of the guard. He didn't completely hated the job, but he would've preferred to do something more useful with his talents than to allow court to slowly soften him up. “Look, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. It's just...! I've done exactly what you said all this time and...”

Finally, Lord Wesson interrupted the young captain with an instructive undertone. He had always been like a father to him and he had never directed his anger towards Darius. “....and wasn't I right in all my assumptions? The king's been out for several weeks. Do I have to ask for the number of assassination attempts you've managed to hide from public? There is no point in hiding it anymore. The small council will not be able to stop a congregation of the entire council. We have, but a few short weeks before someone makes a rightful petition. All the Lords of the land will come and there will only be two possible conclusions. They will either kill the king and make Rydas give up his right to rule...” He took a brief pause to smoke a puff of his pipe and continued. "...or the one responsible for the king being sick will cure him in a subtle way and make him abdicate while he's still weak. Even if we managed to stop the process for some time. Rydas is in no position to claim the throne of Calisma. The past created too many whispers within these halls. We are at risk of a civil war, Darius. We're in no position of doing anything against our enemies openly. Having Rydas leave the castle halves the range of possibilities within our enemies' lines.”

Darius sat on his chair pulled a large scroll containing a map of Calisma.
“And what about the princess? You know well, the moment Rydas and the king are not around anymore they will try to marry her to some low-life prince for a few coins.”
The princess was the only female friend Darius had ever cherished and he would never allow for her to become but a political figure, a mere doll, within her father's court.

“Fear not, the princess will stay near her father's bed and under my godfatherly protection for as long as the king remains alive, maybe even longer. I will never understand why you chose not to romance that girl.” His uncle's words were less a reproach, but a very familiar mockery. Darius never saw the princess as a girl during his early youth. It took him several years within the army to...let's say.. appreciate the hugely disconcerning beauty the princess had gained in his years far away. When he finally come back to Paetax to assume his duties as captain, the princess had lost any interest in continuing their friendship. -As she literally confirmed in one their many, many, regular fights.- On her behalf, Darius didn't really react in any proper manner when he saw her the first time. As the brotherly figure Darius naturally was, he discovered her new-found beauty with confusion, dismay and panic. It took several weeks until he remembered that the two of them were in no way related. But even then, his duty towards the crown forbid any such thought about the princess.

“I am a knight, uncle. I have a duty towards her family and my duty is my love.”
“Duty will never give you children.”
“The people of this nation are my children.”
“I fear, you've become far too romantic to be practical for this country.”

Darius ignored that last comment. There were too many things at stage to do otherwise. “Tell me, uncle, what do you expect me to do?” Lord Wesson's face became unrelatable as he continued. “As a matter of fact, I'm not sure. I guess I would have a far easier task of protecting the king while you're around, but still. Maybe you should go with Rydas and make sure he comes back alive, if possible. I don't want you to go sacrificing your life for a king that has still to prove himself. What do you want to do?”

Silence filled the room, Darius wasn't sure. He'd feel guilty, if he left his uncle and the king in this difficult time. But then there was Rydas, he was pretty sure that prince of his would need a loyal companion to survive this quest of his.

“I'd rather accompany Rydas, if you would allow it.”


Several hours later, some time early in the afternoon.

Fueled by booze, rage and magic; Callavan was prepared to incinerate everything that stood behind him, so infuriated he was with this 'merchant'. His focus centered on her, there was no bar, no people, nothing, just him and the 'merchant'. He didn't act, instead he waited he to see what she would do. Her dagger was raised as if to strike, exactly what he had been waiting for. A grin spread across his face, what little of it could be seen through his beard. The flood gates that had been holding his magic back folded, his hand was engulfed in flames ready to burst forth. A yellow blur entered his periphery, the monk. The 'merchant' faltered, he saw his chance, an easy shot. The monk's words hit him be he took action, he faltered, the flames held study. The world returned around him, slowly at first, others had been trying to stop him he realized, their words might as well have been directed to a rabid dog.

Now the bard entered, her words shamed him slightly, but the angered still bubbled. The dagger had disappeared though, so with a begrudging sigh the flames flickered and dissipated. Hands raised over his head he said, ”Very well, I concede,” He grunted at the 'merchant's' threat, turning around to watch her go. He considered thumbing his nose at her, but didn't.

Satisfied that the 'merchant' would keep away from him, for now anyways, he turned his attention to the monk and bard. ”I suppose I should thank the two of you for stepping in. I would have likely done something foolish otherwise,” He raised his mug then paused, holding it to his lips, before setting it down without taking a drink. Recent events suggested that it was perhaps not the best of ideas. He continued, ”I wouldn't trust her, were I you. While I may be a rash, crude drunk, I've yet to pull a blade on a stranger for mere words. She is hiding something and I doubt it is in any of our interest. Tread carefully around her.”

”Enough, Thovian.” Callavan turned back to the prince, unsure if he meant him or the 'merchant'. He listened and watched as the prince left. Did he still want to take part of this foolishness? The pay would be good, but then so would his chances of having his throat slit while he slept. Of course, the former was just as likely anywhere else with the effect he seemed to have on strangers. And the prince did offer to supply new equipment. He was short on enchanting tools, not having the coin to buy more, and getting more now would make finding work later simpler. Eh, what the hell. he concluded, I can always disappear when things take a turn for the worse. He glanced towards the 'merchant'. Which may not take all that long

Swinging his pack around, he rooted through it, retrieved a small piece of vellum and some cloth wrapped charcoal and jotted down a quick list of tools starting with what he needed to stock up on.

-Vellum and parchment
-Ink, charcoal and chalk
-String and threads of varying quality

Then he finished with whatever could be useful down the road.
-Various chisels and files for stone and metal inscriptions
-Tools for leather carving
-Black and white tempera paints, as well as a brush to go with them

He didn't expect to receive all of these, but even the simplest of these would enable to create a greater variety of enchantments. The note was passed to the barkeep, and Callavan turned away from the bar. For now it seemed best to not expose his back.

The rest of the day was his to have, it seemed. He had been employed, which meant the job hunting he had planned was no longer necessary. His supplies would be taken care of for him, which meant no shopping and less coin lost. His belly was full for now, so there was little need to search for food. It seemed the self declared thief was of a different opinion and left to eat elsewhere. Callavan decided to stay at the pub for now. Perhaps he could get to know his new found coworkers better, some of them leastways.

After her pledge, the Prince acknowledged her, allowing her to stand back up as he gave instructions and information for their quest which would begin the next day. Some of the other attendees of the meeting seemed disheartened but obviously such an expedition couldn’t be pulled together within hours. A day, minimum, was actually quite welcome. It would give the warrior time to gather oddities as well as grab one last night of sleep in an actual bed before they began to travel the open roads.

She had been traveling for years already so the thought of camping in the wilderness didn’t affect her. There had been nothing to do in her poor, destitute village after she finished her training other than getting married and having a dozen or more children or she could have taken on the role of mentor and taught the younger generations the art of war. The first didn’t appeal to her and the second made her grit her teeth in anger. She had not studied combat her entire life to sit about and play pretend. So, Mirabella had packed her things and went in search of her own adventure, her own battles. In doing so, she had traversed a great deal of the country and met a plethora of people. She had slept in fancy inns when coin was plentiful and on rooftops or in open fields when she had nothing but her armor and her weapons upon her back.

At this moment in time, however, she was caught betwixt and between. She had a fair amount of coin but not enough to compare to the Prince or the one that called him self Gallow, that was sure. Should she splurge and dump a fair amount at a nicer inn nearer to the rich sector or should she stay in this area and find less frivolous accommodations? It wasn’t like she had to choose now. The Prince had given them until the middle of the next day to do what they must so perhaps a tour of Paetax was in order.

Sheathing her long sword once more, Mirabella cast her honey-brown gaze about the room, noting as the honest thief was half out of the door on his way to find food and the scruffy-looking mage set about on his list for the barkeep. The fighter waged a brief internal war before deciding that she wouldn’t mind the Crown picking up the tab for some of her necessities so she walked over to the bar first, summoning ‘Vinny’ over to her.

“Barkeep, do you have any parchment so that we may write our lists?” Her voice was softer when speaking normally, not as commanding or authoritative as it had been earlier when she had been trying to draw everyone’s attention. Within seconds, Vinny had produced what she required and she kept her list short and sweet, only needing a few things to supplement what was already in her packs.

In surprisingly elegant script, she wrote:
Two lengths of strong rope, a crowbar, a sack of marbles, a small bolt of cloth, a ball of twine, flint, a few flasks of oil, chalk….

She bit at her lip as she tried to think of anything else she might need for the journey but she had quite a bit in her packs already: whetstones, a bedroll, a blanket, a set of regular clothing should she ever need to be out of her armor, etc. Unable to conjure any other items, she set the parchment and pen down, sliding them back towards the barkeep with a smile. “My thanks. Please also let whoever is procuring items for our trip, know that I already have a steed so they won’t need to purchase a horse for me.”

With that, she turned and searched for the honest thief, Xan, to see if he had left yet. “I have heard tales of a Pub two streets over that boasts of its mead and stew. If you still care for company, feel free to walk with me, Sir Thief….” She cast one more glance back into the tavern at the remaining patrons and offered, “Anyone else that wishes to come? I will be at the Dancing Dragon, if so.”

Turning back to the door, she made her way out the door passed Xan and kept her pace slow in case anyone should want to accompany her.

Although they all seemed to be oblivious to the Prince's words, the combined efforts of him, the monk and the bard seemed to cool their heads. At least just for one moment and that was enough to bring order back to everything. The one that seemed to have had the most effect was actually the innocent little monk, odd as it was. Sometimes it was the most unlikely of things that held the most power or promise or effect.
When his words were finally able to be heard by all of them, the Prince who seemed tired of their childish behaviour made his last statement and with a swirl of his cape he exited the inn.
How well we start off. Wonder who'll show up tomorrow. Nari thought as she tilted her head and let her eyes trail after the man. She gave on last glance at the other ranger who'd been dumb enough to insult a member of the royal family and her face settled to become unreadable and neutral again. They were all left to their own now and had been told to write down what they required for the journey and that they'd all be provided with a horse should they need it. Needless to say this impressed Nari. She knew the royal family could afford it, but didn't know that they would.

The warrior woman wrote down what she needed and then offered anyone who wanted, to come with her to the Dancing Dragon. After deciding to wait and write her own list, Nari approached the barkeep and was given paper and something to write with. Quickly her mind raced to think of the things she would need on the journey.

Needle and thread.
Arrows - Jagged and steel tipped.
Rope.
Herbs and spices.
Whetstone

All else she had already, when all else she needed was her bow and her sword. Nari didn't waste much time on her list so she quickly handed it to the barkeep with a smile. Something in the back of her head told her that she would somehow be responsible for gathering food. Or at least the hunting part. And if she was going with the other ranger, Nari would have to keep a track of him as well. She didn't trust him. The thief was still there, letting everyone know that he was hungry by the way his stomach growled. Her eyes settled on him for a moment and she tilted her head, looking at him with her nearly glowing green eyes. Whether he could really be trusted or not was unclear to her. Yes he had introduced himself as a thief, but something about him gave the notion that maybe he wasn't exactly dangerous to them.
Time will let us know. her brain told her. Daring to approach the thief and reaching into her pocket, she leaned against the doorframe and handed him a few more coins. "Here. If we are to set upon a perilous and dangerous journey on the morrow, one should have the right to a decent meal. King or beggar." With a smile and nod Nari leaned away and walked out of the door. Whether the remainding people in the inn thought she was making an alliance with the thief or not, didn't really matter to her. Alliances shouldn't exist within their little group here, the alliance should be the group. "I'm afraid I'm unaware of what name or title I should call you by, Triansui." Nari said as she caught up with the woman in armor. "I'm Narenia Halen. Nari for short. Mead and stew doesn't sound terrible to me at all at the moment."

This woman had shown honor and partially the same understanding of the situation in the inn as Nari had, except that she had left instead of staying. She was impressed with herself by the way she talked. How the words formed themselves in her mouth and how she spoke. It had all come back to her in an instant; the benefit of being of noble descent. Maybe the warrior lady would return the tone of voice or at least the respect Nari had shown.

As the prince gave a final speech and orders for everyone to write a list of things they would need for the expedition, Hayley waited for most of the adventurers to write theirs and leave the tavern before finally getting up and asking for the parchment they were writing on. She looked for odd things or valuable items in the other adventure's lists before starting her own, there weren't many things Hayley need that she didn't already have, still the bad girl she is decided to put a few items on the list since they would be having them for free.

• Rope.
• Hooks.
• Camping Gear.

It's not like Hayley really needed all of that, but it would be useful, she already had the camping gear but it wouldn't hurt to have a new one. She handed back the list and ordered some lamb meat and water, she didn't like mead or beer, and wines were both costly and rare in taverns like these. Giving some coins to the barkeep she quickly finished her meal before going back to the table where she sat, thinking about asking for the nearest inn and calling it a day. But before the girl could make a decision the once covered in blood man, now cleaned up came in and took a seat, lit up his pipe and started talking. Hayley hated people smoking around her.

"Every trip and every quest is the same to me, an adventure that pays either money or valuable things, that's what I do for a living." Hayley started, it was true after all, the quests could be described mostly as robberies though. "I don't have a real profession anymore, unless being an adventurer is now considered a real profession. I used to be a merchant. I now travel through the kingdom, in search of quests that lead me to valuable items." She explained, someone who sells stolen goods is a merchant, at least in Hayley's mind. "Anyway, I do not care about how any of these people reason, or what they think of me. And as long as I know I am getting paid, I don't care about what they are, unless they bother me, like these two idiots we saw earlier." Hayley let out a sigh, annoyed by the smelly smoke this man was producing before asking. "And would you please quit smoking? That annoys me."
le

To be honest, Nel was terribly nervous as she tried to talk the fight in the tavern down, but was relieved as the bard, Acacia, effortlessly swooped in and managed to talk the merchant and the mage down. The monk was surprised at how effortlessly she had used her silver tongue. Not that she would know what a silver tongue is anyway. Before the merchant went off, she warned not to stay near the "pile of magic crap", which prompted Nel to check left up the heel of her foot and check the soles of her sandals. Looked pretty clean. Unless it was magical. Confused, she turned around for some explanation, and Callavan's beard started to thank the two of them and before sitting down, insinuated the merchant was hiding something. Nel wasn't as affected by his warning; mainly because she understood one would have to hide things so thieves wouldn't steal them.

During the mini-conflict, the prince promptly voiced his disapproval towards everyone, except Mirabella, and left rather dramatically, swooshing his red cape around. It was a pretty cape. His chiding, although not meant for Nel herself, still managed to pull her spirits down. Despite that, she understood fairly well that the adventure would be postponed for tomorrow, although why they didn't go now while everyone was here was still a mystery to her. Quickly though, she could see the group being torn apart, one half going out the door to see the "dancing dragon" and the other half...staying. In the midst of a clawing need for fresh air, she as well, wanted to leave but was at the counter with a piece of parchment, trying to hastily scrawl and write things that she would need. Her writing, despite her life as a monk, was atrocious...BUT! If one could squint their eyes and tilt their head to the side it would read:

Bandages

Whether or not it was illegible would be up to whoever would read it. Had it been any other time, she would have looked with awe at the feathered pen, but she quickly set it aside and joined the group just as the ranger was sharing her nickname. Nel gave a quick bow to Mirabella, having already crossed with the ranger, and since the warrior was closer then the thief. "Hello. I'm Nelinia but call me Nel." Before she could have a chance to respond, the monk ran back to her table, grabbed the quarterstaff that nearly slipped her mind, and came back to the group without so much as a huff of air escaping her. She bounced around on the balls of her feet excitedly, grin plastered on her face, eagerly awaiting the trip to the Dancing Dragon.

Although this may sound crazy she's never seen a Dancing Dragon before!

With a hand on the door handle, ready to exit, Xan only stopped when a voice from behind started to speak with him. He released the door and turned to see whom it was that was to be his partner in conversation. It was the female warrior, Mirabella, at least that's what he thought her name was, although he could be completely wrong. She spoke of a pub that was near by, it didn't sound to bad and the company would be welcomed. Although the fact that she had called him 'Sir Thief' made him tilt his head a bit and have a bit of a laugh. He watched as she walked passed him and out the door, he was going to follow soon after, but his step was disrupted. This time it was the female ranger, whom had made her way in front of him and leaned against the door frame, effectively blocking his path out. He was curious as to what it could be that she wanted, until he watched her hand pull several coins from her pocket and hand them to him. He held out his hand to catch the coins, he was very much thankful, and also a bit confused, this was the first time anyone had given him money, until she had given her explanation. With that, she was out the door as well, and this time Xan followed behind, getting out before any more interruptions came. Third to join the small group would be the one monk that had participated in the meeting for this little adventure. He watched as she came and went, an introduction followed by a rush back to her seat to retrieve a nearly forgotten item. It was somewhat odd having the amount of people around him as there was, it had been a while since he had dined out with a group.

"So what type of stew does the Dancing Dragon offer?" Xan asked, following closely behind the group at his own pace, the food sounded good. The mead, not so much. He wasn't much of a drinker, alcohol never seemed to suit his tastes. He put his arms behind his head and relaxed, looking up towards the blue sky. He would like to enjoy this meal with the group, be he also wanted to the day to pass quickly. "I hope everyone can learn to get along" he said out loud without reason, it seems his mind was starting to wander again, allowing his thoughts to be spoken out loud. It was an odd habit, every time his mind wandered off into his own inner lands, his thoughts never seemed to be able to stay within his own mind, and instead become audible to everyone around him. Sometimes it would cause him to get into trouble, actually it would get him into trouble almost most of the time it would happen. Of course he knew of this little habit of his, but try as he might it would not disappear, so he has learned to accept it and live with it.

Mirabella couldn’t help the shadow of a smile that formed on her lips as Narenia was the first to follow, trailing out the door after passing some coins to the thief. Within a few steps, the ranger had caught up with her and re-introduced herself.

“Didn’t we already do this whole introduction thing once before?” she teased the auburn-tressed woman, hoping that she had an ear for humor. “If my memory deceives me, though, I am Mirabella d’Adreci. Apparently also known as “Triansui”. I should’ve expected as much when revealing my title but most of the companions I have traveled with before have simply called me Mira.” She flashed a smile at Narenia before tacking on, “So it is a pleasure to meet you, Nari.”

Next came the petite monk, Nelinia, who also re-introduced herself and proceeded to dance about on the balls of her feet, grinning from ear to ear and then seconds after, the voice of Xan sounded out behind the small group. “Glad you could join us, Nel and Xan. I have to admit I’d prefer company while eating. It saves from having to entertain strangers that sit at your table because the tavern is too full.”

Xan posed a question and Mirabella took her time in responding. “The Dancing Dragon is rumored to serve all sorts of fare, if stew and mead aren’t your taste… But I’ve heard they have the best venison stew for miles around and I trust the mead here in the city more than the water. The alcohol in it tends to kill off nasty things.” That last part of her comment was more to the poor monk who she had seen sniffing indignantly at her mead back in the Black Vagabond before she had crushed the glass in her hand. The warrior didn’t exactly love mead but some varieties had a pleasant flavor.

Their short conversation took them down a few streets until they finally approached the Dancing Dragon Pub. Though it was late afternoon/early evening, music already blasted out of the thick wooden doors and into the streets themselves every time someone entered or left. Yet when the warrior woman pushed the door open to allow the group entry, it wasn’t quite as deafening as she assumed it might be.

A small trio of musicians sat in chairs near the large fireplace centered along the northern wall of the feast hall with tables dotted haphazardly throughout the rest of the room. The bar itself was crafted from mahogany and stretched the entire length of the eastern wall, tended to by three barkeeps while the patrons at the tables were served by a handful of tavern wenches.

Making her way over to one of the corner tables, Mirabella settled onto one of the chairs and within a minute or so, a buxom redheaded waitress wandered their way for their orders while paying special attention to Xan.

“Well what can I fetch for you today?” The server asked of them though her eyes never left the thief.

The Triansui cleared her throat and grinned at both Nari and Nel before speaking up. “If it isn’t too much trouble, may I have a venison stew and a mug of Black mead?" Black mead, of course, having honey and black currants in its recipe given it a distinct and fruity flavor.

Over all, Alice felt only disappointment. This whole thing, her trip here, the members of the quest, it was all disappointing. And most of all, she hated the ending of this little circus. The Prince bid farewell and left everyone to think this through? They should have thought it through when they came here, they should have thought it through when he offered them the time and the escape out of this quest. She was being selfish but she did not care. She was excited to get this quest to begin. Well, truth be told, she was just annoyed that she would have to go home and deal with her family once more. Not that they would stop her, but that she may stop herself. It took her the entire week to convince herself that this was the right move and the short cut to fame was needed. Now, the Prince gave them one last chance to run and she feared she would. Alice wasn't the most bravest of Mages and anyone close to her knew that. That was one of the reasons that they all laughed when they heard that she wanted to go on a quest to save the King. Maybe, the Prince just wanted to quit on this quest after he saw what a rag tag team he got stuck with. This was a way to do that without seeming like a coward or hurting his reputation. What a horrible way to end this all!

From under her hood, she peeked out. Some of the brutes had up and dusted. Some still stay. They chatted and slowly left the tavern. Alice made no attempt to follow. Instead she sighed and pushed back the hood. It was good, though, that they had ended it quickly. She was about to fall asleep. A small smile nudged at her but she quickly killed it. She picked herself up tot a sitting position but did not move afterwards. The Prince had left and so did many of the others. They didn't know her name, nor did they care. This would be the best opportunity to leave and never come back. She could tell her father that they Prince didn't want to do the quest anymore, but if he did proceed with it, then she would be known as a liar. Her father would laugh but she knew she was feel bad. If she told them that she thought very little of the group and figured it be best to leave. They were sure to die. Well, then her brothers would laugh and dance and sing the song of humiliation. She would be known as their little sister that could do nothing. Alice had far too much pride to do that. Then it was settled. She would just go home and return. She already knew that no matter how hard she tried, she could not lie to her family. That was something too difficult for her. In the end, Alice got up from her seat and stared at her hands. What would she need? It took her several minutes but finally she wrote her demands.

A horse.

The young Mage left with only that written. She came here to be famous, not to use the Prince's gold until she was satisfied. She had her own gold and everything she needed. Even if she did need something else, she would never say. Alice would not swallow her pride and ask. Not now, not later. If she had to she would bend the rules, but she would never ask. With a huff, Alice existed the tavern, with a deep scowl carved on her lips. This time, Alice did not run, nor did she skip away. She walked all the way back to her house, where the light were turned on and the shadows of three males danced. With a few curses and grumbles Alice opened the door. They all stood frozen looking down at the only female member of their household. Then, as if they had been practicing this the entire day, the house filled with laughter. "I knew it!" The eldest roared. "Alice would never go on a quest. Not our Alice."

"Aye, son I suppose you won the wager." Her father laughed, his body shaking.

The middle sibling, older than Alice still, gave her a hug, but he too was shaking from laughter. "Don't listen those fools Alice. It's okay to come back. That's why we have a home, to return to when nothing goes right." He gave a kiss to his sisters forehead. "How about I get you something to eat, eh darling?" Alice had turned as red as a tomato. She was expect this reaction but it still made the embarrassment just as humiliating.

"I shall be going on the quest!" She yelled over the laughter, as she was used to in a house filled with men. Her hands curled into fists and her face filled with anger. "When the sun shine tommorrow, on a better day. The Prince gave us one day to prepare." All the laughter had been silenced. This made her brother only hug her tighter.

Her father smiled. "Then aren't we lucky ones? The Prince has been kind."

The eldest was slumped into a chair. "Let us eat together, one last time. We shall await your arrival when you come back. Bring us back gifts and stories from your adventure." After that, Alice was doomed to go but she did not care for the moment. The house was bright and she was happy, even if it only last a few hours. That night, she cried.

Feylon let out a small chuckle and removed the pipe from his mouth. Reaching his hand into his cloak his fingers scrambled around inside of a pocket until he found what he was looking for. Feylon produced a small leather pouch with a brown lace holding it together and placed it on the table. Slowly he pulled the lace away from the pouch and the whole thing began to unfold revealing a small collection of objects. It contained a small wooden pestle, a piece of flint, a cloth and a sachet of tobacco. Feylon reached for the pestle and used it to smother the burning tobacco in his pipe. Then he carefully poured the remaining tobacco into the sachet and cleaned it out with the cloth. When he was finished he wrapped the leather pouch up once more and placed it gently back inside his cloak along with the pipe. "Now, no more smoking. Back to the matter at hand though. It is foolish to not care what these people think of you. If it comes to a combat situation you are going to want those people to help protect you are you not? Do not be so naive as to think those small daggers will aid you much in a fight against a foe with a long sword. I, so far have only managed to piss off the Prince. It is of my assumption that the man is to noble and proud not to defend someone he is travelling with. The priest and the mage however is an entirely different story."

Feylon winked, smiled, and stood up from his seat. "Now if you will excuse me it is time for me to take my leave. It was a pleasure to meet you and I shall see you at the gates of the city in the morning. Also think about what I have said." Feylon bowed down and walked towards the bar. He had purchased the loft space from the barkeep some months ago and was using it as a personal hideout. It was small but cozy and provided the adequate cover from the weather outside during the night. As he walked around the bar he nodded to the barman and pushed open and old wooden door. In front of him a set of creaky, bent steps that led up the two floors to the left. Slowly he made his way up. His body had started to become stiff. It had taken quite an unexpected beating today and would most likely suffer the consequences for days to come. It was a thought Feylon did not relish. It would be uncomfortable and annoying at the best of times but he had to make do.

As he reached the top of the stairs a small room was revealed. The ceiling just high enough in the middle for him to stand up, but sloped down on both sides forcing him to crouch on either side of the room. In the middle was his not so fancy bed. A bedroll on top of straw was not the most exquisite of beds in the world but it certainly did the job. Unhooking the brooch that held his cloak on Feylon left the material slide off and fall to the ground leaving just his woodland tunic and pants. He slid his leather boots off and kicked them away from the bed. Feylon then took his tunic off and replaced it with a looser fitting white tunic. Feylon then lay down onto the bed. All the tension and pressure of his body left him immediately and he shut his eyes leaving him fall to sleep.

"Venison Stew" Xan repeated out loud, still in the wandering state of mind. He wasn't quite sure what kind it was, but if they have what is deemed the best then it might be worth a taste. He came back to reality as the sound of music started to fill the air. It was soft at first, but as they came closer to the source the true volume of the music started to hit. It was quite loud, he could actually feel the sound of the music as it hit him outside of the door. He allowed the others to enter the pub first. He stood looking at the building and the sign that had its name carved into it as it lightly swung above the door. It looked as if it would be falling off at any moment, ready to hit the head of someone that entered to left at the wrong time. As those that were in front of him made their entry, he followed behind, the music felt as if it had gotten softer as they entered but it was still quite loud. He took his time getting to their chosen table, for some reason his eye kept wandering around the pub.

He was about to pull out his seat to sit when he heard a voice that came from behind. Another had decided to join the group, the bard Acacia, as she sat he wondered if anyone else were to come and looked back towards the door. In the back of his mind he was wondering if anyone leaving would get hit over the head by the sign outside that might fall. He amused himself with the thought before he sat in his chair. The server had already begun to take orders, but Xan wasn't quite sure what to get. The recommendation of the Venison stew tempted him, but he also wanted to know what else there was. He folded his legs in onto the chair, placing both hands in his lap as he thought for a moment.

"I guess I shall take some of the Venison Stew as well," he paused for a moment, "And anything that has a good amount of chicken in it was well" he said with a smile. He had only eaten chicken once or so, but he couldn't forget the taste of it. Or perhaps the flavor came more from the sauces that it was covered in instead of the meat itself, but either way it couldn't hurt to try some again. "And anything that has a sweet flavor as a drink" he finished, he wasn't quite sure of anything they had, and if this was going to be his last decent meal for a while, why not spoil himself a bit. With the amount of coin he had before, added together with the amount that Narenia had given him, he should be able to pay the tab for his meal.

After the order of his meal was complete he started to think about where to sleep tonight. It was very likely that all the money he had would be going into the meal so he knew he couldn't stay at an inn. Perhaps he should sleep somewhere close to the city gates where they were to meet again. Perhaps within a large tree near the area, he liked to be off the ground when he had to sleep outside, and if it had enough leaves those would make a nice pillow as well. He shrugged off the thought for a moment, he would find a comfortable enough place to sleep when he had to. For now it was best to enjoy the meal and the company.

"So, what is that brought you all to the decision of going on this quest?" he asked, wanting to start up some conversation.

A tumult of inquiries made itself aware to him with answers unknown. No grasp of sight nor sound could brace a foreigner for such epiphanies, such strange scents wafting through the air and leading him down darkened streets. This was not a city of pine, but of boundless opportunity. His arrival hadn't varied from his departure, which is to say he came with kit's optimism, flashing fanged smiles in spite of meek fanfare, and clouds of doubt would do little to hinder his step. What a fool he was. Cloaked from tip to tail, he cut the image of absurdity. He supposed, briefly, that he would represent all the flaws of this venture—one might call him irritatingly buoyant had he not been quelled by the wariness of the townsfolk, restricted to considered padding within the shadows of Paetax as he went forth, ever so hopeful, to the grounds where the misfits would meet.

But he had been frantic. Past noontime, the final bell berated his absence. Ears perked, strained, catching that sound and that sound only. The city had loomed a mile in the distance, grandly set on the horizon, and his pace quickened on the dusted road. Curse after curse tainted his breath. Inevitably, others would have arrived long before him, warriors or mages or devious people with years of experience, whether polished sword or pierced tongue or missing teeth. Eyepatches, even. The thought had set him into a near-dash, the anticipation eating away at him, the even anxiety more so.

And all the world's courage would not grant him words. A few thousand faces to glance over, a few hundred more to speak with, but which handful would be willing to listen? Lost among the crowd, he was but one of many, and yet the open roads had seemed entirely too unwelcoming, too prone to exposure to the common people of Calisma. Yet he could not afford to wander for long. The capital could not engulf him, not before he had the opportunity to slug drunkards in a pub fight.

What had led him to the caped man were whispers on the wind, just as tellings of the king's state and the plan of action had drifted to the ends of the earth. His presence quieted bold souls; crude talk became hushed around him, the mannerisms more subdued. Icareau was the least capable of joining his company. Through an act of admirable idiocy, nonetheless, the Feledine found his voice: "Sir, if you may please heed my request!"

Imagine the boy, then, garbed in fur and cloak and armor under the sweltering sun, the broadsword tucked at his side, the toes tipped, desperately, to heighten himself. "I seek to join the hired hands at the Black Vagabond. If the king is in need of aide, then I am willing to fall for him—that is..." At this, his speech faltered, as did his stride. Surely this man was used to such heckling. "Well, if I can find the meeting area," he added, laughing without conviction.

How could one not trust water? Nel thought as Mira told her she could trust it; a thought taking her back to the tavern sipping her glass of water. She pushed aside any worries of it for now and immediately thought of the Dancing Dragon. What did it look like? Was it a grand dragon? A small dragon? What colours decorated its skin? Music tickled the monk's ears as questions spiraled inside her head, growing louder and louder with every step she took towards the structure that advertised the "Dancing Dragon" upon its entrance. Who wouldn't advertise their dancing dragon?

To her extreme disappointment, the music wasn't being played by a dancing dragon, nor was there a dancing dragon at site in the establishment. Then she remembered the warrior's words: . “The Dancing Dragon is rumored to serve all sorts of fare, if stew and mead aren’t your taste… Of course! The dragon must be a cook! How delightful to eat food made by a dragon. Pondering what to order, the "venison stew" seemed to be a popular meal meal for everyone, despite the fact that Nel knew what "venison" was. Nel tried to look up at the waitress but immediately looked down at her feet in discomfort at the waitress's lack of...clothing across her chest.

Her head came back up as a familiar voice stood out from the music of the bards playing; a bard. Specifically, their own bard, Acacia. After she ordered, venison stew, what a surprise, Nel would put in her own order, generally playing monkey see monkey do with Mira. "Black Mead...and what's in the venison stew?"

"A little bit of everything and some deer, of course." The buxom waitress responded. Nel couldn't contain the horror that slipped through her lips in a mere whisper. Deer?
"Fresh deer from just this morning." Nel felt sick to her stomach as soon as she said that. What did the poor deer ever do to get eaten, cut into pieces and put into the fir-just thinking about it felt like she was going to hurl the lackluster contents of her insides. "Some bread please."

Amidst the sickening feeling, she could hear the honest thief, Xan, raise a question about why they were going on this quest. The monk cleared her throat and waited a few seconds for the colour to return to her face before she can speak. "If the king dies, it could be disastrous for Calisma if he's replaced with someone...else. Although most of my brothers and sisters couldn't care less. Apparently, as she's been told in the monastery, the possibility that disaster would occur in his death, was preposterous but she wouldn't believe it.

Mirabella kept an eye on the door for any stragglers but the only other form to walk into the Dancing Dragon was Acacia. When the Bard Girl sat down beside her, she nodded her head towards the woman and smiled once more. “Of course you are welcome to join us. After tomorrow, none of us will have much of an option in regards to the company we keep. Will we?”

Though she didn’t laugh outwardly, one would be able to tell by her tone and general demeanor that she was in high spirits. Adventure called to her like gold called to a thief and with an honorable task being their new purpose, she couldn’t help but feel a bit jovial. Especially since she hadn’t expected anyone to attempt to bond with one another after the scene from the Black Vagabond, instead she had thought everyone would go their separate ways only to meet at the gates with either apathy or distrust.

Some of the others went about their orders and Mirabella finally let loose with a small chuckle at some of their questions and requests. Xan had simply asked for a sweet drink and poor Nel had turned green the moment she heard what was in venison stew before opting for bread instead. It made Mirabella ponder for a moment if the monk was vegetarian, so she spoke up to order a few more things for Nel since she wouldn’t be eating stew like the rest of them.

“Actually, miss, could you bring her a cheese platter with bread and pears? And instead of the mead, perhaps she’d enjoy Granatus in apple wine? Perhaps two mugs full of it, I believe that Xan would enjoy its taste as well.”

So they wouldn’t think she overstepped herself, she explained the drink to both Nel and Xan as the waitress went off to fetch everyone’s food. “It is pomegranate boiled down and made into a syrup that is then added to whatever you wish with a bit of sugar. It takes away some of the bitterness of whatever you’re drinking, making it a bit easier to handle.

As the conversation turned to the quest at hand and their reasons for joining, the petite monk started out with her explanation and when silence fell upon the table once more, Mira gave her own response. “As you know, my people are fighters and warriors. Without any full scale wars, we have little to do and so our skills go wasted. I doubt we will find the Panacea without running into at least an enemy or two, so I pledge to use my skills to protect the rest of the party.”

Her eyes fell upon both Nari and Acacia next, wondering if they would share their stories but the tavern wench was back quickly, depositing a mug in front of each of the party members before sweeping back into the kitchen to gather their food. It wasn’t until the woman had come back out and set their stews and such upon the table that Mira turned her gaze first to Nari who had been quiet throughout most of the conversation thus far.

“And what of you, Nari? I didn’t expect one of the woodland folk to join us in our cause, in all honesty. It seems that even during the Wars that there was little that threatened nature. Or have you not always been a hunter?”

Nel felt guilty. Unintentionally stiffing the bill for her food to Mira, the monk refused to have her pay for another room, compromising they both sleep in the same room. With the thought that there was two beds, Nel nodded in agreement, and from fully satisfied with a meal she desperately needed sleep. Upon entering the room there was only one bed. There was only one option:

Sleep on the ground.

To be honest, she was used to sleeping on grounds since the idea of anything else was foreign, but the pillows and sheets said otherwise. Fine red sheets that felt so soft in between her fingers she wanted to just curl up in them and die. In a good way. Despite her mind already deciding on the floor, her body was already on the bed, writhing in the pleasure of warmth, not even bothering to take off her clothes. She could barely remember any sign of life whilst she was caught up in the euphoria of the softest sheets in the world and quickly fell asleep.

Waking up was not as pleasurable. Mainly because she noticed someone else under the sheets. Nel almost screamed but covered her mouth just in time to silence any noise. She carefully lifted the sheet up and saw the culprit from her long strands of hair to her face: Mirabella. It was Nel's fault, she thought she'd be taking the floor, then steals the bed, so it was to be expected. Besides it was a large bed that could easily fit three people. Nel instantly raised the sheets looking for another body but was relieved to find none.

Very slowly, she slipped out of the bed, and tip-toed to the door, opening slowly to avoid noise but not too slow for the door to creak and wake everyone. It was the same technique she used to leave the monastery. About to close the door behind her, she saw the bed, calling for her to come back. "Neeeel! Neeeeeeeel! Sleeep mee! Nel bit the edges of her lip as she regrettably closed the door behind her and flowed out of the tavern into the street. The sun hadn't even thought of coming out yet. The monk was used to waking up this early in the morning from the day she was brought into the Kula Monastery. Slipping into an alley, which provided some protection from the cool winds, she sat on the cobblestones cross-legged and began her meditation.

What felt like days passing were only hours and, unknowingly, a small crowd started to gather at the entrance to the alley, stricken with curiosity. At this point in time, the sun was rising over the horizon, giving a reddish-orange glow to the sky. Nel's hands slipped slowly from her lap with her forearms on the floor, slowly shifting her weight onto them until her legs, still crossed, weren't touching the ground. With all the weight transferred to her forearms, she slowly uncrossed her legs and held them up to the air, akimbo, and straightened her back. Now upside down, she kept her balance skillfully, and held the position for a while until suddenly she put tightened her hands into fists and lifted her forearms up. Hold. Nel still held steady breaths despite the beads of sweat pouring slowly unto her side. Now splaying her hands on the background, she pushed up once more, lifting her palm up into the air, and balancing off the tips of her fingers. The crowd at the entrance of the alley, still unknown to her closed eyes, was growing and watching with awe at the performance. She held the position for a while, then suddenly lifted her left arm up, and was balanced with the fingers of her right hand. Muscles quivering
and arm quickly wavering, she switched hands, held, pulled in her legs, and promptly stood up, eyes open before the now cheering crowd. Confused and sweaty as the salty water was now a second skin, her face flushed, and she ran the other end, this time mindful to bring her quarterstaff.

Whilst looking for the gate, the bells tolled again, and the human traffic immediately stopped once more. It all seemed so alien and strange to her; everything really. "I'll never fit in. She thought, just as she found the gate, and got into the empty clearing of space inhabited by horses. The prince was there in his swooshing red cape, which reminded Nel of the soft sheets that made her want to caress it through her fingers, the thief who seemed to be in a jovial mood this afternoon, and a tall character with a gold beard. The priest. Perhaps she has been too hard on Akdov. After all, not every priest would be like...him. Right?

"Good morning." Nel greeted the priest, standing beside him for the moment, trying to find a common denominator they can relate to. That was staring right at her. "That's an odd weapon." She remarked at the staff with the symbol of approval for a hand on it, looking back at her weapon, not helping the fact she felt a little plain.

Mirabella continued on with their meal after allowing both Nari and Acacia to respond to Xan’s inquiry about their reasoning for joining this epic quest. A ranger and a bard, both would have to have entertaining reasons for joining and as the warrior continued to listen to and feed into the conversation, she couldn’t help but feel a little curious.

These four seemed a personable bunch but what of the others that had stayed behind or gone their separate ways? Were they devious and trying not to befriend the others in preparation for their subsequent betrayal? Were they simply shy? As a matter of fact, after she had left the Priest outside of the Black Vagabond and returned inside to pledge her sword to the Prince, she never saw him slip back inside behind her. Odd, that.

Still, she didn’t let such things worry her and after the meal was finally over with, Xan tossed some coins upon the table and took her leave whereas Mirabella held up her hand to the remaining three to prevent them from doing the same.

“Please let me pay for our meal. In celebration of newfound allies and for safe travels on the road we have ahead of us.” As the waitress came by, Mirabella pressed a good bit of coin into her hand and then stood up, stretching her aching muscles.

Bidding good night to Acacia and Nari, the warrior argued a good bit with Nel who apparently felt guilty about the larger meal that Mira had asked for and provided for the young monk. Yet, the warrior knew that the first day of travel was always one of the hardest and the tiny yellow-robed figure would need more energy than a simple loaf of bread would have provided. So she quieted her fears and eventually they settled upon an agreement that they would share a room to save coin. There had been no way that Mirabella would’ve allowed Nel to wander off on her own to find lodgings. The girl looked like she could hold herself in a fight but she also screamed of innocence and naivete. Protection was one of the few things Mirabella was good at, so she extended this to the younger monk and they climbed the stairs to their accommodations.

Though Nel fell quickly asleep, the Triansui stayed up a bit longer to take care of her armor before she turned in for the night. Taking off first her breastplate, then each remaining piece of plate, she sat down at the small table provided by the inn and polished each piece. Cleaning it and inspecting it for any repairs she might have to make in the near future, the warrior did the same to her many weapons until finally the candle was almost burning out and her eyes were growing weary from being up for so long. The last piece of armor to remove was the chain shirt which she wore under her breastplate but over her muslin tunic and she draped that upon the back of the chair, yawning once before she slipped into the bed on the side furthest from the monk. Sleep took her and she did not awaken until the sun was already high in the sky on the following day.

When her eyes fluttered open, she first noticed that the monk was gone. With a practiced ease, she slipped into her armor, strapped on her weapons and shield and gathered her meager belongings into her rucksack. Feeling refreshed from the night of rest in a fine and comfortable bed, the Triansui went out of the tavern and found the stables first. A few more easy errands came next after retrieving her steed and by the time that the bells were tolling their trio of tones, Mirabella was already riding up to the gate upon her chestnut mare and the crowd that had gathered around the Prince dispersed for her to join the rest of the mounts.

Finding that a trio of familiar faces were already in attendance, Mira nodded to Xan and Nel before moving her horse so that she was closer to Akdov, the Priest so that she could speak with him.

“I am glad to see that you have decided to join us, Priest.” Her countenance was unreadable as she prepared for the journey ahead and her demeanor didn’t seem quite as celebratory as the evening before. “Shall we have you as a true ally, from this day forth, Akdov?” She wanted to know that they could all trust him. That he wouldn’t try to fracture and plot and plan as he had done the previous day. She wouldn’t judge any man for watching out for himself in times of turmoil but she also did not want to turn to him for assistance only to be rebuffed.

Acacia nearly burst out laughing at Nelinia's apparant embarrassment, and after Narenia's comment she did. Her laugh sounded almost as musical as her voice, causing a few in the inn to turn and look for the source of the sound. "Yes, I couldn't imagine what the problem could be," she said, still chuckling sofly, her dark eyes shining. Her thoughts tuned back to Mirabella, however. She seemed to easily take charge, quickly figuring out the needs of others and taking care of them. Acacia knew this was a quality of a great leader, but she instead focused on the possibly irritating side of having someone directing what you did. Hopefully she doesn't get too bossy, Acacia thought, a slight smile on her face. She listened to the music for a moment, noting the song before focusing her attention back on the group.

Soon the food was brought and Acacia eagerly smelled the stew. It was not bad at all and left her happy at least. The same went for the tea. This would have to be another place to remember when she came again to Paetax. She listened with interest to the answers of the others, especially Narenia, before answering for herself. "What brought me into the meeting was pure curiosity," she said, a grin on her face as she pulled out her new top and spun it on the table a couple times. "What kept me there is a different story. Sure, helping out the Prince and saving the kingdom is nice and all, but what really drew me in was the entertaining people. It is sure to be quite the adventure, I will tell you that much. Might even get a good story or two out of it." she grinned, snatching the still spinning top off of the table and stuffing it back into one of her pockets. Not exactly all my reasons, but hey, who needs to know everything right away, she thought, a smile on her face keeping her thoughts from coming through as usual.

She finished off the rest of her tea and was just about to pay and leave as Xan had, even standing up halfway, when Mirabella offered to pay. "Thank you, that is very kind. In that case, I will be off. See ya tomorrow," she said, sweeping a dramatic bow before spinning around and exiting the inn. Hmm, nice little group, she thought, breathing in the cool night air before heading off. I guess it is back to Golden Grape, but this time as a paying customer.

The plump innkeeper was surprised to see her back again, and asked how long her stay was extended, an almost greedy look in his eye. She quickly explained she was only staying for the night, rented a room, and headed up. She did her normal stretches before preparing for bed. She fell into the small bed with a sigh, thinking about her exciting day before falling asleep.
---------------------

The next morning she woke a little later than usual, a couple hours before noon. She went down to the main room, ate breakfast and relaxed a while. When it was closer to noon, she headed out. She quickly wound her way through the streets. Her attention was caught by a small girl with dark hair who was running exuberantly past her, suddenly falling to the ground just ahead of her. Something about her seemed familiar, but Acacia couldn't figure out why. Before she could check if the girl was alright, she got up. She seemed to also be headed to the gates. Acacia quickly walked up to the group, just behind the girl. She gave a small wave to those gathered. Now she was beginning to remember. This was the girl, a mage probably by her seal, who hadn't really introduced herself. Acacia walked up to the boulder where she sat, quickly introducing herself, though less dramatically than at the meeting.

"Hello, I am Acacia Winn. I suppose you're also going on this 'adventure,'" she said, her lips turning up in a friendly smile. "You're a mage right? What is your name?" After a moment she added in a more hushed voice, "I could show you how to fall a bit more gracefully if you would like," with a wink and a smile.

Having been spotted by Mira, Nel promptly smiled at her, but was slightly surprised she wanted to speak with the priest; something of being a "true ally? The priest went on and Nel, though not meant to listen to this conversation, can easily tell he would rather trust his imaginary God then he would the group. Monks may not know much about travel or adventure but even Nel can feel nervous with such as an answer as his. A simple "yes" or "no" could have easily sufficed; instead he had to string words together in a complex weave that needed to be deciphered. Why so needlessly complicated?

Fortunately, he didn't try that weave of words when answering Nel's question, which thank "Deud" for that. Apparently, his weapon was a walking stick, for "old bones". She promptly raised an eyebrow to his response; feeling somewhat confused by it. "I never thought boredom or dull feelings were such vicious enemies. Starting to feel the soreness in her arms, she brought up one arm and held it back down behind her head, relieving a familiar ache from her training in her shoulder. "Kill someone with a walking stick. What non-sense." She firmly said under her breath; switching arms simultaneously. "A weapon never has to kill. I thought priests would know that." The last part seemed to have a incredible amount of sarcasm put into it, bitter memories resurfacing, then suppressed through clenched teeth. "As for my name, it is Nel, not woman. No-one would call you man, yellow-beard, or tall. I'm sure if you only had a name; priest...

Both arms back to her side, she once again gripped the quarterstaff that leaned on her body, and looked at the priest for a split second before turning to Mira and giving her a small bow of respect. She felt more agitated as as he finished speaking to the priest. Nel immediately left their company for the sake of having an area to fully stretch; today would be a horrid day to pull a muscle. Any day, really, was a horrid day to pull a muscle.

Mornings are fearsome beasts and should be avoided at all costs. This was the first thing to occur to Callavan upon waking. It was also the second, third and sixth things. An arm flopped over the bed's edge, seeking for something. It stumbled upon a flask, carelessly discarded the night before. He managed to flip on to his back, wincing when the light that spilled through window attacked his poor eyes. With some effort the flask was unstoppered and what wasn't splashed onto his face made it into his mouth. Now in a somewhat improved disposition, he proceeded to lie there rubbing his eyes and wishing the wrath of hell on whatever demons were pounding away at his skull.

Once he felt that the foul hammer wielding creatures were exercised from his mind, he managed to roll off his cot and make his way over to the wash basin that sat on the table. His face was shoved into it and held there in an attempt to drown whatever remained from the previous night. Unsuccessful, he was forced to come up for air as he wasn't sure whether or not he'd be able to resuscitate himself. As he wrung out his beard he tried to recover the remains of the previous day's goings on.

It started with him waking up in a field, walking into town and being turned down for every job he applied for. Nothing unusual there. Then there was the meet up at the pub and getting into an argument with a stranger. That was different, he doesn't get an opportunity to make an ass of himself in front of royalty all that often. Everyone seemed to disperse after that, except for the damn merchant, and he made an attempt at sobriety. It didn't work, which explained his current predicament. He had managed to make his way to an inn however, that was a point in his favor he reasoned.

Judging by the sun he figured it to be nearly noon, which meant he needed to be moving now. Everything was still in his pack, except for the flask which he'd have to find time to refill at some point. The room had been payed for the night before, so he simply left. He did make time for one stop on his way, for a meat pastry. The smell curdled his stomach, but the greasy spiced meat set it at ease soon enough.

Most of the others had already gathered near the gates already. He noted a small cluster of them were talking, the priest among them. He meandered on over to them, still savoring the pastry, or what little of it didn't seem to entangle itself on his face. Perhaps it's time for a shave. He acknowledged the priest and the warrior with a nod, but not the monk, Still have to figure out what a monk is, who had wandered off as he approached. They were talking about something, but he was far too groggy to care at the moment.

Mirabella sighed deeply as the Priest replied. She had thought that he would take her words from the day before to heart and wake up with a renewed interest in the group as a whole... But perhaps she was asking too much of him. His last words spat out at her with a vehemence that she did not foresee and the shock of his reaction was apparent by the uncontrolled arching of her brows. Still, she let him respond to Nel before bothering to respond to him. Whatever he said angered the poor monk, causing her to clench her hands once more and set her jaw quite snugly before stalking away from them. Her eyes followed Nel for a moment before she spoke.

"A true ally, Priest, is one of the few things in life that you can explain perfectly and some people still would not understand the gist of what you are saying. A true ally, to me, is someone that you can count on and trust. Through roads both clear and sunny or murky and frightening. Someone that you can forge a relationship with that few others know. It is not only borne of battle but of any situation of strife or prolonged travel or even torturous endeavors. Yet, if you close yourself off from people before you truly give them a chance, then you alienate yourself. Tell me. Would your God of merriment wish this for you?"

She shrugged, an action that was barely perceptible in her heavy torso armor and another soft, forceful exhalation escaped her lips as more people began to filter into the clearing. The young mage had moved to sit upon a large boulder and Acacia, the Bard girl, had sidled up to her and initiated conversation. Then the other mage appeared, chewing on some sort of odd pastry as he nodded towards both herself and the Priest. With little left to say to either of the men, she clicked her tongue, urging her horse forward as the Prince began to speak.

Rydas mentioned packs prepared for those with mounts already and Mirabella rode forward to the small pile, dismounting easily and picking through the saddlebags to find what was hers. She had a small list so when combined with the basic necessities such as food and water, there were only three packs that were hers. Loading them up onto her chestnut mare, she climbed up into the saddle once more before trotting casually over until she was closer to the Prince.

"Not to start this mission off poorly or with any hint of disrespect, my liege..." she started, keeping her eyes forward on the others as they gathered either their mounts or their packs and began to prepare for the quest at hand. "But which way are we riding? What information are we going off of?" Finally her honey brown gaze settled upon the Prince with curiosity. "I must admit I have never worked with so little information before."

Xan turned his attention away from the open gates and back to the group as people started to trickle in little by little. He gave a smile as Mirabella arrived and passed a nod his way, and going to have a conversation with the Priest. He hoped it wouldn't end up in an argument between the two. With that his attention went to the horses rather than the people, he was curious to know which would be his to ride. He thought it best to try and get himself familiar with the horse and vice versa. Although it might be a horse, for some reason he thought it rude to just hop on it and force it to carry him on its back. Looking at the horses that were gathered it wasn't easy to tell which horse would be ridden by whom. If it were to be determined by the number of items the horse was carrying the one that had the least on it would be his, as he didn't list anything to be brought for him back at the tavern. He looked around himself to see that the group had grown quite a bit larger, but was still missing a few people. Had they changed their minds? or were they just late? to much to drink the night before perhaps. He could only shrug at his own thoughts before his attention was gathered by the Prince.

"It's starting" a wide grin formed on his face as he spoke the words. As he listened his thoughts on which horse was to be his was somewhat confirmed, the amount of luggage and what was in them was to determine which belonged to who. With that thought in mind he began to look through the gathered mounts to pick out which was his, looking into the bags on the sides to see what was in them. If it carried nothing but food, water then that would be his ride. It seemed that the third horse that he checked was to be his, a somewhat odd color, it looked to either be grey, silver, or white depending on the light and direction he looked at it from. "Hello my friend" he said to the horse as he gently placed a hand on it's head. He felt the horse push into his hand a bit, "It seems you and I will be partners for a bit" his hand started to gently pet the creature as he gave a smile. The horse gave a snort as a response, Xan stepped back for a moment, "If you are going to sneeze, don't point your nose at me" he said, now holding his hand out for a bit of defense, just in case. He waited for a moment before he stepped back up and put his hand on the horse once more, "Done?" he asked, the horse neighing lightly as if to respond. With a happy nod and a pat, Xan walked around to the side of the horse. He looked at the saddle that had been placed upon it.

'How hard can it be?' he thought looking at it. It seemed to be simple enough, put a foot in the stirrup and lift yourself up and over onto the horse, simple. Xan hesitated for a moment before putting his own foot onto the stirrup. 'Ok, step one' he thought, he took a deep breath and counted to three before he put his weight into the stirrup and lifted himself up and over. Unfortunately he didn't quite sit on the saddle, as he did lie on it, his hands holding onto the horse itself for dear life. The horse gave an irritated neigh, "Give me a break it's my first time" he said, slowly sitting up, "I'll get used to it. Eventually" he pat the horse on the head, "until then, bear with it my friend". The horse gave a light neigh, in the same way a person would sigh and say, 'alright' as if they had given up or given in. Xan laughed at this strange 'conversation' that he was having with his horse, but it felt as if they would get along just fine. "So. How do I make you go?" he asked a bit confused, the horse shook its head, Xan simply laughed at its response, "Come on, we'll get through this together" he pat the horse a bit more. To him the horse felt more human than beast, or perhaps it was just the way he was treating it.

Arms behind her neck, legs reaching all the way up to the air, back arching all the way to the ground until her hands caught the ground before her head, the monk stretched, twisted and turned every muscle in her body. The practice revealed how immensely flexible the seemingly tiny girl was and the euphoric relief of the exercise managed to stay her conscious off the priest.

It was official. Nel would despise the priest for many, many days to come.

Amidst the stretching, the red haired merchant had arrived, and a good morning escaped her lips. "Morning" Nel volleyed back to her, peering back to Beardman -Callavan who was being greeted by the priest. How could he even stand him? Nel's ill-tempered thoughts were interrupted by Rydas' short speech, where some thought to be inspirational, and other thought it to be dribble, she thought it to be okay. Which brought up the next problem. Feylon now looked less bloodier then usual as well.

Which horse would she go on?

Matter of fact how did you get on a horse? Their skin certainly wasn't hard enough to scale. Use their head as a step? Before Nel could make a choice, she turned around to see how everyone get on these animals, and saw how they raised one leg above the other to achieve the goal. The monk took some deep breaths before she could face her mount; a honey-sun colored horse with a dark mane. She knew it was hers because no-one was making a move to mount her. Nel put a soft hand on the horse's body and a huff from it's mouth startled her indefinitely. She closed her eyes as she awkwardly mounted the horse, the feel of leather rather comfortable, but when she opened her eyes the monk realized she was on the wrong side. About to turn the other way, she swore someone call her name, Acacia, and waved her arm from atop the horse, instinctively pressing down her heels on the horse's side. The horse galloped and the reins jumped up and wrapped around Nel's neck, viciously forcing her off to the cobblestone, dragged.

Without truly knowing what transpired, Nel's shock was overridden by her training as hands gripped the reins around her neck while tumbled painfully against the floor, and somehow got on her feet. The heels of her sandals were dragged across the small distance, getting choked out by the rope now fully twisted around her neck, until her hands managed to find the reins again. Suddenly, she pulled on them to get slack on the vice-like grip the rope had on her in order to wiggle out, the horse's head pulled into the direction, stopped it's gallop, and stood on it's hind legs neighing, pulling Nel inches up in the air, literally hanging her. In this suspension by the reins, Nel pulled her body up with her arms that pulled her up from the dangling reins that connected her to the horse, swung her left leg back as far as it could reach, to her right shoulder and released the strike on the exposed throat of her torturous mount.

The horse dropped like a rock, leaving the monk to drop to her knees, quickly unraveling the reigns that blocked her air, and took a gasp of relief as soon as it was peeled off. Beads of sweat rolled down her crown as she promptly got back to her feet; obviously disturbed by the horrified look on her face. Her first taste of actual combat.

Callavan had started to listen to what was going on around him as his higher cognitive processes were gradually returned to him. The warrior was on some self righteous tirade about allies. So much babble about nothing, he thought.

In the meantime he finished with his breakfast, licking his fingers cleans and making a brief attempt at picking the crumbs from his beard. The warrior trotted off, so he assumed that she had finished whatever she was going on about.

Then the prince started talking. Callavan summarized it mentally. Suppose this is supposed to be some rousing speech that will make us forget about how we seem to hate each other and join together for the sole purpose of saving a dying old man by finding an ancient artifact that most likely doesn't exist. He regretted thinking so much immediately. Massaging his temples, he tried to stop thinking until the hangover passed. This resulted in him thinking more and coming to several realizations. These were quickly dismissed as they were utterly ridiculous and not because they forced him to think that the other may have valid reasons for what they do and they he is not necessarily right.

More words from the priest. They passed through one ear and only caught his attention by making a ruckus on their way out the other. Unsure of what the proper response would be for whatever the priest had said, he simply nodded. Apparently this was the right one, for the priest kept moving.

Noticing that the others were getting there mounts and supplies; he headed over to the horses, digging through the packs to see which was his. He found them strapped to a buckskin rouncey. The fact that he knew what a buckskin rouncey was surprised him as he knew very little about horses and it had never occurred to him that there were types of horses before. He then ceased to care, because he had new toys.

Everything he had put on the list was there and they all to seem be of a good quality. This was much better than he expected. He made a note to work for desperate monarchs more often.

A sudden commotion forced him to disregard his toys. The monk seemed to be having some trouble with her horse. He was about to help her, but it seemed that the horse was having more trouble with it's monk.

Hayley stood there, in the clearing with her arms crossed. She wasn't going to pretend she liked being around some of the unneeded members on this group. Everyone was talking, getting to know each other a bit more, ignoring the crowd gathered around them, large crowds made Hayley nervous, she didn't enjoy being the center of attention.

Finally what appeared to be the whole group, some of the people who were in the tavern did not return. Hayley, much like the prince probably did, assumed they would not be coming. Prince Rydas began to speak. "Such commitment will receive just reward.” were his final words of the small encouraging speech, the reward would surely be good, Hayley wondered whether they would receive the full payment, if any at all, should they return without the said item, or if it failed to bring the king back to his good health.

The prince then gave details, showed them the mounts with their items and gave them a direction to start "We ride North.” North it would be. Hayley looked at the horses, trying to find out which one was hers. Eventually finding hers, she strapped some of her own stuff she was carrying, mostly clothes and items only a thief could find use such as a bunch of little tools, picks and a torsion tool, good for opening locks, useless if you don't know what it is, you can always eat salad with it though. Hayley hauled herself up onto the back of the brown horse and sat on the comfortable saddle. At least the trip wouldn't hurt that much with this quality saddle they had put on her horse, nothing worse than having a bad saddle on a long horse trip.

The girl then watched some of the others goof around with their mounts, most notably the bright colored monk, who almost killed herself trying to mount up. "She could really use some help" Hayley thought, trying not to laugh, but not moving to help the monk herself, someone would eventually do it or the monk would find her way up on her own, there was no need to act here.

"You need a name" Xan said, holding his hand to his chin, "I can't just keep you calling you 'You' now can I? but what would be a good name?" he sat and thought for a moment. His head turned, eyes looking everywhere, to see if something can give him a good hint for a proper name. He looked at rocks, trees, colors, clothing, seeing if he could take in or take out letters that can make a name, or combine words that will sound like a good name. He moaned and groaned as he thought, something like this was not his forte, actually most things in life were not his forte, but he still had to try. Whether it would be for the long run, or for a short period a name would have to be given to his four legged companion. A name that would not be gender specific would be needed as well, since he didn't know whether his mount was male or female, and he wasn't so daring as to check himself. "How about Myst? the color of your hair reminds me of a think mist, but spell it with a 'Y' as in 'Mystery'. Since to me, my friend, you are quite the mystery, how about it?". The horse gave a neigh and a snort, slowly bobbing its head, it seemed it didn't love the name, but it wasn't displeased with it either.

Xan simply shrugged his shoulders, if the horse was fine with it, so was he. His thoughts were broken as loud sounds started up from nearby, it sounded as if a horse had come out at a full run, but they had not begun to move yet. He looked up away from his mount to see what was the matter. He found quite the scene in front of his eyes, the monk seemed to be having more trouble her mount than he had with his. She appeared to be dragged by the neck by the reigns that were attached to the horse. Either the horse was spooked, or she did something that caused it discomfort, either way she was not in a good position. He wanted to help, but how was he suppose to stop a running horse? An experienced rider might be able to ride belong side the out of control horse and stop it, but he didn't even know how to get his to start moving. As the thoughts flowed through his mind, his eyes were not able to tear away from the scene being played out. It seemed as if the first casualty might happen here, until he saw the monk make quite the move. She managed to pull her own body upwards as the horse stood on its hind legs and give it a quick kick to the neck. His head and eyes followed the horse down as it hit the ground. It was quite an impressive scene, but he wasn't quite sure whom he should be more concerned for, the Monk, or the horse.

"So" he started as he pet his mount, "Still think you got the short end of the deal?" he asked, noticing that his horse had witnessed the entire scene as well. There was no snort, no neigh, just the simple response of a shaking head. "Thought so" he replied, giving the horse a nice pat on the side.

His attention turned once more as the Prince began to speak again. This time he was giving information on how mount the horse, which would have been much more useful earlier before his embarrassing try to mount the horse on his own. As well as a bit of information in controlling the mount with the reins. With his instructions done the Prince started off, his horse trotting under him leading the way.

"I guess we follow" he said to Myst, the horse gave a simple neigh as it followed the white stallion that was in the lead. The sudden start nearly caused Xan to lose balance, his grasp on the reins getting slightly tighter to keep himself from falling off. "Try not to go to fast" he said, keeping himself up right on the saddle, "And give a little warning before any sharp turns or if you're going to speed up" the horse neighed lightly, almost sounding as if it were a sigh. "With that kind of attitude my friend, this will be a long trip. Think positive Myst" Xan said, patting his mount some more "It will all turn out fine" he said confidently with a smile.

"I'm not entirely certain whether I should feel offense or not at this," Gallow mumbled to the man who'd followed him to the stable. His dress was entirely Deluvian. A servant of the family. Gallow did not know every liaison the Ó Tuathaláin had in Paetax or elsewhere in the country, but he recognized them on sight nonetheless. They carried and kept themselves as soldiers but dressed like nobility, not exactly inconspicuous when one knew what to look for. He'd cornered the Champion in his room, and bothered him all the way to the stable, managing to cause a swath of distractions and keep him far later than he'd have liked. He'd been behind schedule for the meeting in the tavern, and now again in getting to the city gate. Worse and worse, it seemed. Though, he knew it was nothing compared to how this mad trek could become later on down the road. "I could hazard a guess at why exactly you've been sent, and you've been skirting the point for far too long," he glanced over his shoulder shortly, "But I think I'll let you take care of that. And speak swiftly, I don't need you holding me further."

The ambassador shook his head, "I have simply received word to inquire as to your decision, unless you've yet to reach certitude?"

The man's tone gave Gallow pause, but he shook the feeling off. "I haven't. It's too early for rash resolution, wouldn't you say?" He finished loading the last of his supplies onto his horse's saddle, and turned to face the man. "Something of this magnitude requires time. You and the Ulaid can appreciate that."

"Of course, I'll let them know. Who knows, maybe they'll be pleased that you are employing patience rather than recklessness." He gave a short bow, and then left as silently as he had come. He knew what the Ulaid wanted him to do, he knew why they had really sent him, but he hoped they would at least be as understanding to realize that not everything could be exactly as they wished it. In any case, it was getting late. By the time he arrived at the gate he could see the party just beginning to leave. He called out as he approached, "Prince Rydas, if you will excuse my tardiness I still mean to ride with you. I would hope you did not think I'd abandoned you or your family in this perilous time, Your Highness."

Riding a horse was no easy task, a knight that would have a presence in the battlefield needed to know how to handle its mount just as well as its weapon if it wished to survive, and unfortunately the monk would have died a hundred times over if she ever found herself in battle, he also was slighlty annoyed that nobody offered her help

"Nelinia was it?" he approached to her while still keeping his distance in an impersonal manner "Horses are as varied as us you see, just as there are men who enjoy boasting and drinking there are those who instead would grab their daggers in bloodlust just because they were questioned" maybe he would hit a nerve again...

"In any case if all horses were ill mannered mongrels they would not be so popular, I know a thing or two about them that you could find useful, you will come to realize that they can be quite tame and gentle if handled the right way... you dont happen to have an apple do you?" the prince made then the suggestion to have her riding in the same mount than the Triansui "My prince if I might offer my wisdom id rather them not ride in the same mount, one is an armored assailant the other is a woman covered by her discipline, if there is need of a chase in the middle of the road I would rather have our combatants unhindered by the additional weight" He felt of course the need to make clear he was not of the intent of being a pervert "You could tie her horse to mine and im certain I will be able to lead us both in speed while leaving the vanguard mobile and able, or if for some weird reason she would like to share the mount id be willing if she is"

"My prince, before we set out I would like to propose a toast, a small ceremony for good luck if anyone is willing to take part in it, if not, then it would not be the first time I drink on my own"

Mirabella narrowed her eyes in annoyance as the Prince ignored her query and began, instead, to lecture people on the proper ways to mount and ride a horse. Never before, even on jobs that were horribly managed, did she ever feel so uninformed as she did now. We ride north... That's helpful! She thought to herself somewhat sarcastically and drawing breath deeply within her lungs, she held the air momentarily before puffing it back out in a short burst.

North was quite vague, as far as she was concerned. There was a road heading out of the northern wall of Paetax, sure, but then it split off in a dozen different ways at a hundred different points along the road. They could head towards Vaekor, Orranli... Or if they were avoiding settlements of any kind they could still wander towards the Soch Mountains, Kon Falls, the Perpetual Frosts, the Lakes, the expansive forests.....


The Triansui stopped herself and instead, focused on the scene playing out before her. Hadn't she already reprimanded several people for their dismal attitudes? She put a stop to her train of thought before it soured her mood and waited for Nelinia to make her decision about who to ride with. Quite honestly, she didn't care either way. She had seen the little monk moving before and she had enough agility and grace to probably backflip right off of Mira's horse if the warrior was needed elsewhere in the midst of battle. And with the way she uppercut the horse, Mirabella was also pretty certain that Nel could take care of herself.

Though she mourned the loss of the fine steed that the Prince had no doubt paid handsomely for, the warrior still had a ghost of a smile playing across her arid lips. Surely the bard would have a hilarious tale to tell of the beginning of their adventure and the monk who had killed her own horse.

You just couldn't make this sort of thing up.

Listening first to Akdov plead his case, then Acacia came forth with her own proposal. All eyes seemed to be on the petite monk and/or the Prince. Either waiting to see who she would ride with or to await further instructions from the man in charge.

"I have no qualms, if you wish to ride with me, Nel. But perhaps you should ride with Bard Girl. Who knows? Perhaps she will need a bit of protection out there on the open road." Her tone had once more turned quite teasing and she winked at both the bard and monk before laughing out loud. With a soft click of her tongue and a gentle nudge of her foot, her own mare began to move so that she was at least turned towards the gate, ready to start this caravan to the north.

As distraught as Nel was, there was a small sliver of excitement flowing through her veins, but immediately the worry overwhelmed her. The Prince's instructions on how to mount a horse went over her head as she looked at the unmoving horse. At first, the monk thought she killed it, but it was breathing, bare breathing, but breathing none the less...or was it just her eyes? Still shaken up, she needed to be comforted by someone, anyone.

Thus, the priest's presence was surprising as it felt like he was chiding her at first. Sure, she was the one who almost got killed by her horse, but it wasn't her fault! Lest she kept telling herself. "I don't have an apple." Nel said bitterly, eyes glued to her feet, keeping the suggestion to ride her own horse by being lead by him, almost reeling back at the priest's little tidbit about riding with him. If she was ever forced in such a position; she'd probably jog along the side of the trial of horses for miles to come.

Thankfully, Acacia's concern managed to wash away the anxiety and anger she held up, knowing someone at least sounded concerned for her. "I'm fine Acacia...but as for my steed..." Her eyes were cast low for a second before she brought them back up and flashed a tender smile to the bard to feign normality. Nel wished she could hear some sweet music and did when Acacia said she could ride with her. She waited until she mounted her horse yet before the monk could utter a word she could see Mirabella standing tall from her horse and making a slow trot towards her as well. It felt like for a brief moment, talking to so many people at once, being watched upon by either her unknown companions and the people from the crowd around the group as a whole, the world was revolving around her, and the feeling was not an enjoyable one.

The warrior's little joke about Nel protecting the bard gave her at least some imaginary comfort in the awkward position she found herself. It was fairly easy to choose which person to double up with. She definitely didn't want to get in Mira's way and be a hindrance if she was near her. "I think I'll ride with Acacia, Mira." Nel said, nervously picking at her collarbone before looking up. "After all, who else would protect her?" The joke was accompanied by her own form of laughter, obviously forced, and was extinguished with a quick clearing of the throat before she looked up at Acacia and then down at her quarterstaff. She grabbed it from the ground and stuffed it into the bag, most of it sticking back up, but luckily not falling over. Nel looked up, literally, to the bard, and hoped she understood the simple fact she needed her weapon.

Without bothering to hear anymore advice from her companions, she jumped on Acacia's horse, used her arms as leverage, and easily swung a leg over the horse. For a moment, it seemed she was going to fall, arms flailing back backwards, the momentum pushing her forward to wrap around the torso of the bard.

"We should be gong now." The entire fiasco with the horse made her nearly forget that she was going to go on an adventure out into the big wide world ad she held Acacia a little tighter.

The prospect was still terrifying.

The trip to the dinner hall was shorter than Acacia had thought it would be. She would need quite a bit more time to become used to the layout of the castle, of course, but she was unsure whether they would have the time until the coronation for themselves or if they would be helping somehow. She hoped they would have at least some time to explore for themselves as well as something to do. Acacia was never one for merely sitting still.

She thought back to her encounter with Travain and began to wonder if she had made a fool of herself. It was obvious she had made the conversation somewhat awkward, and she wondered if she should have said more and what she could have said differently. However, she did not regret the conversation itself. It was nice to feel that someone understood her situation with her parents. She wondered if Travain felt the same way. On the other hand, she wondered almost guiltily if she would have even begun talking to him if she had not been running from Tal.

When they arrived at the hall, Acacia gave Getra a small nod and went inside. She sat in the first chair she came to, happy to see several others already seated. After giving a small wave, she busied herself with observing the decorations and layout of the room. She soon noticed a few people she did not know, and assumed they were nobles and courtiers from the way they were dressed. She tried to figure out who they might be, but she had paid little attention before to who was who when it came to the nobles. Perhaps she would meet them later?

She rapidly became bored with speculating on the nobles identities and taking in the room, and began searching through her pockets for something interesting. She happened upon a small metal puzzle and pulled it out for a moment. She had not worked on this particular one before, so she began fidgeting with it under the table. She had just finished taking the pieces apart when she heard someone sit beside her. Acacia looked over with interest that quickly turned to surprise and dismay when she realized it was Tal.

Acacia hastily turned her head as she replaced the unfinished puzzle in a pocket and out of sight. She tried to look as though she had not noticed him. She knew that Tal probably saw her look but kept on with the charade, feeling foolish. She did not understand why he wanted to sit by her, and hoped he would not bring up what happened earlier. She fought down a blush, quickly becoming embarrassed.

She inwardly cringed when he spoke, asking what she thought of the castle. Acacia realized he had not specifically said her name, so he was not necessarily just talking to her, right? She wondered if he would end up leaving her alone if she did not respond. She could not really think of much to say in any case, and just being near him made her slightly uncomfortable, though she knew it was irrational. She almost flinched again when he said her name, leaving her without a good excuse.

“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” She hesitantly looked at his face with an overly cheerful smile. He repeated his question and she paused for a moment before answering, “Ah, well. Its fine, I guess. Very… big. Nice….” She gave a small nod and a smile; however, inwardly she berated herself. ‘Big? Nice? That is all you could come up with to answer him. What a great conversationalist. Probably feels like he is talking to a four year old.’

At his response, Acacia nearly laughed. She was glad he at least had a good sense of humor about the situation, but she did not know how much longer she could stand the awkward conversation. Luckily, she was saved from further embarrassment by the entrance of Rydas and Senalae.

Acacia was glad to hear the warmth in Sena’s voice. She obviously had experience entertaining guests. She raised her glass and took a deep sip before returning her interest to Rydas. She was intrigued by his instruction to stay after the meal, wondering what exactly he had in mind. He introduced Azevrec, and Acacia was caught off guard when he introduced him as the head of the church of Deud. This man, if she understood correctly, was Akdov’s successor. She listened with great bemusement, eager to learn what a prayer to Deud would sound like. When the man briefly addressed Rydas, Acacia gave into temptation and pulled out a small book and charcoal to write the prayer. It was somewhat poetic, but not as ostentatious as some could be, or, thankfully, as long.

Her stomach began to rumble as she thought about the plentiful, delicious food they would soon eat. However, she was surprised when Azevrec continued speaking. He really did remind her of Akdov in the way he spoke frankly without care for how it would affect others. Acacia was by no means surprised at the shock and anger on Sena’s face. It must have been quite insulting to her for him to beg for money at a celebratory dinner. Rydas skillfully smoothed the situation over and Acacia laughed along with him, glad to be joined by a few others.

Finally, it was time to eat. Acacia darted a glance at Tal, but he paid little attention to her. She was happily ate and joined in the general conversation. Though the mystery of the Rydas’s announcement hung at the back of her mind, it really was nice to be together again. After a time, the meal ended and Rydas spoke again, finally telling them what he had in store for them. They would be entrusted with the items of legend.

Acacia’s gaze wandered over the various guests at the table, some familiar and others not. She processed their reactions, trying to decipher what they were thinking though her own thoughts were buzzing. She pulled out her book again, writing a couple hasty sentences before putting it away.

Amid the buzzing, Cord came up to Acacia and kneeled beside her. Acacia gave her a genuine smile. She had wondered what trouble the golden-haired woman could have gotten into, but she was not concerned by her short absence. To Cord’s questioning statement, Acacia effortlessly replied, “A wonted echo for truth, my Muse. Nevermore removed from the heart. Settle contiguous, loquacious one. Among, so inside a manner affable. Only hear and know.” She motioned to a chair beside her with a grin. Speaking in this manner had become easy for her, and she greatly enjoyed it. However, she motioned to Rydas and the objects, hoping Cord would be able to understand what was happening.

The deer grazed elegantly on the small patches of moss on the forest floor. It was oblivious to the world. All of the politics, the poverty, the lies and deceit created by man meant nothing out in the forest. The animals went about their lives as if the world of man never existed. Perhaps in this way, they were better off. All the deer focused on was survival. To preserve ones life, and suddenly a whistling noise piercing through the air took that life away. Th arrow slammed into the deer and pierced it's lungs. Within a minute the animal had died. Unfortunately for the deer, the world of man had come to it.

Feylon dragged the carcass up the hill as the dawn sun broke through the treeline. The cold air chilled his body as he left the forest. After the journey to find the Panacea Feylon decided to leave Paetax. He had no future their, the king was dead and thus he had no job. He of course had the option to go back to the army but he decided against it. The regimental live of fool sent to do the work of royalty did not interest him. He had his share of that demeaning lifestyle and wanted no more. So he left, he packed his few remaining possessions and turned his back on a place he called home for the second time in his life.

Although fate would have it that he would end up just half a days ride from the city, a small village bordering the edge of a great forest. He had set up here in this quaint little village. At first the local population was skeptical of him. A foreigner to their tiny little universe. Feylon decided it would be best perhaps to settle just outside of the town, and he built a small (quite small it has to be said) cabin on the very edge of the forest. However the townsfolk, after learning of his skills with the forest herbs accepted that Feylon had his uses and they opened their arms and accepted him. Feylon made ointments from the local herbs and in return he received some bread and a few vegetables. Not a bad life he thought to himself.

However the peace did not last. One morning a rider bearing the royal symbol rode to Feylons cabin and presented him with a letter. An invitation, to a ball. Feylon cursed that the messenger had been able to find him. No doubt the village folk had divulged the information. After all, in a place as small as this gossip was rife. Feylon gazed at the invitation and let out a heavy sigh.

--

The castle cut a dark figure above him as Feylon climbed the steps to the main doors. His clothing was far from suitable for such an event, but he didn't care. He was not a noble, he didn't shit gold and eat like a king. No, he lived on what he could afford and fancy clothes was certainly not on his shopping list for this week. Instead he wore a dark brown pants and a green tunic. Over his shoulders a woodland cloak fastened with a silver, leaf shaped brooch. Slowly Feylon strode up the stairs and approached two short guardsmen. Upon noticing him they stood upright and blocked his entrance to the castle. 'This is an invitation only event, I recommend you go back to the alley you came from.' sneered the guard. Feylon rolled his eyes and pulled the letter from beneath his tunic, he pushed it into the chest of the stubby guardsman, 'Here, my invitation. Now if you'll excuse me I'll be heading through.' Striding forward he took only a few steps before being stopped by the guards hand. 'No weapons inside the castle, leave your bow and arrows here. The man said pointing to the bow shaped bulge under Feylons cloak. 'Fuck off shorty' Feylon snorted. 'No one inside there is worth wasting an arrow on.' However the guard was not impressed, as Feylon could now feel the cold steel of the guards halberd pressing up against his tunic. 'The bow stays here' the guard said sternly. Reluctantly Feylon removed the bow from his back and handed it to the guard.

The castle was alive with sounds and people chatting. He could hear music flowing as if coming from the very walls themselves. The light from dozens of candles flickered and bounced of the stone walls. For once the castle seemed happy. Feylon approached the main hall coming across another short, stubby man. The herald no doubt. He asked for his name but Feylon waved his hand and brushed the man aside. He had no need for people to know he was here. He didn't fit in and people would sense that immediately. He wanted this done and over with. Feylon found a quiet spot against the wall towards the middle of the room. Everyone to busy flattering others to notice he was there. He spotted some friendly faces in the crowd. At least, as friendly as Feylon had remembered. If friendly was even a term he could use to describe them.

It wasn't long before the room quietened and the man of the hour was announced. Out strode Rydas and the room turned to admire. 'As pompous as ever' Feylon thought to himself and plucked a chalice of wine from the nearest table. Throwing the sweet liquid down his throat.

Tap-tap-tap-tap...

Paetax was in full motion as people rushed about, hurrying about their day, or rushing toward the palace for the day's events. Only a coronation was a grand event to be had, but the chance of seeing one of the brave adventurers that had made it happen was turning the event into a spectacle that simply could not be missed. And yet...unless you were invited, you were going to miss the grand masquerade that was the central focus of these grand events.

Tap-tap-tap-tap...

The sound continued as Bryant's soft boots made contact with the cobblestones under his foot as he puzzled out his next move. The castle was well guarded and the men holding the entrances didn't look to be in a particularly exempting mood. Walking up that way and trying to slip in was only going to get him thrown out. 'Of course...' he thought ruefully. 'I don't necessarily have to use the door...' And that was the danger. Slipping into the castle like he was planning would only land him in further trouble if he was caught. So many eyes were present to see him if he attempted such a reckless feat, especially how they were heavily concentrated around the gates. 'Hmm...'

The normally cautious man clad in white and grey pushed himself from the wall he had using as a lean post and began wading into the crowd milling around the front of the castle gates. 'I don't have time to sit here and wait. I have to get in there now.' Masquerades, coronations, and once-in-a-lifetime-events were things he usually didn't want to miss, but he had much more important business to attend to. Prince Rydas was inside the castle, and that's where Bryant was going to go.

Gently at first, he began pushing people out of his way to get through, but began shoving harder and harder for no apparent reason. Angry mutters and a few shouts were thrown his way and he ducked a little to avoid the sight of the guards up ahead. The walls to either side of the throng funneled them all into a tight, and rather uncomfortable spot just before the gates where the guards were stopping people. Bryant was shoved back as a man refused to be pushed and growled angrily. Another shove made him turn and Bryant waded closer to the edge of the crowd, shoving more and more people along the way. Another push in retaliation nearly toppled him over and he could see the wall so close to him. "Move!" he called angrily and gave a strong shove at his target in front of him. The man stood his ground and shoved him hard into the wall. Bryant braced and let himself fall into the hard stone.

And he bounced off of it. His eyes went wide for a moment at his failed attempt at passing through the stone. He began to panic as he saw a helmet of a guard pushing through the angry crowd in Bryant's direction. 'I'm going to be arrested! No, I can't, I have to see-!' Another shove took him by surprise and he fell back to the wall once more as more people began pushing each other around him. He reached back to push off the wall and defend himself when his hands caught nothing but air. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision as he toppled and something tangled his face and arms. Struggling for a moment, he yanked on the curtain and realized he was no longer in front of the gates, but the inner walls to the sides of them. The uproar outside spurred him back into motion, and he headed toward the sounds of celebration.

'Prince Rydas.'

Bryant's stunning blue eyes found the man immediately as he slipped into the hall. The tall prince was unmistakable in his black attire and all the appraising faces around him. And all the guards as well. As much as Bryant wanted to sprint over and explain to the prince what he had seen, he knew that was not going to happen. 'That's a good way to get shot....again...' He thought, regarding the crossbows on a few of the guards. His face scrunched up as he tried desperately to find a way to approach the prince. 'I'm so close...' And then he had an idea as he cast his eyes around, trying to pick out one of the adventurers that would have easy access to the prince himself.

'Brother, sister, can you hear me?'

Bryant froze. The words echoed in his head, more feelings than actual words. They seemed so familiar and he knew what they were, even when he had never experienced the feeling before. Suddenly he realized they must be here as well. The others sent by the Oracle. The others like him, Sudaje. He cast his gaze around once again but couldn't pick anyone in particular out. Closing his eyes, he had no real idea what he was doing, but reached out to the voice.

'I can hear you. I see the Prince, but...where are you?'

~Vyga Emerth~

Vyga had spent the whole day running around the city of Paetax, first he had seen a merchant for the furs he had. It was arguably the best part of his day seeing as the shop owner was a nice young woman with golden hair. She had the same features as him and they both automatically knew that they were both from the north and it struck a nice cord for the two to share an interest right from the start. The only downside was that the woman's husband was not very accepting of his presence and was forcibly trying to get Vyga to leave, even going so far as to shove the coins back at him with a spitting snarl. But still he felt no ill, the man was merely looking after what he wanted to keep and protect. No matter how misguided his attempts may have been.

The second stop was with a smith that worked near the city entrance and was a man near to his own age.

The two shared quick words on what it was that the lone druid could need from him and it was easy for him to answer. "I am in need of some light armor for traveling.. and if at all possible could you sharpen my weapon? I will also need something more.. personal in preference." Though he spoke in an off term for the smith he picked up on what it was that Vyga could need and nodded once before stepping away, only to return shortly from the other side of the space. "Ere you are sir." He laid a rather thick folded set of fur on the counter with a finely made axe set on top, there was also a set of grieves and bracers lightly jutting from between the furs folded shape. "Dis ere is bear fur, nice and thick.. will get you through the coming weather." As if on command the sound of rain beginning its fall outside began to take hold. The man gave a slight smile as he notice that he was just justified by the coming rain fall.

"An dis sir is ya basic axe.. not too complicated beyond that" Vyga gave a grin, knowing that such an item would come in handy later in his travels. Not just for self preservation but for other aspects of surviving as well. "These are simple enough for armor to be, not many sizes for you but I was able to find a set." Vyga nodded as he dug his hand into his satchel and pulled out enough to pay for the lot. He wanted to get some food and drink then head back out to the wilds were he could feel at least more at home. Though its fine being in a city, to him nothing much compared to the feel of the outside world.

But now here he stood, in the center of the street in the light rain, his arms and shoulders kept warm by the fur of his new cloak and the axe sitting lightly in his sash with his hand resting nicely on the upper haft.

The place before him was a tavern noted to him by the young woman earlier, before her husband had a chance to wedge himself in. It was called the "The Black Vagabond." and he rolled a small silver piece around in his left hand as mulled the name over in his mind before walking in. "Time to eat!" He thought with a happy chirp in the back of his mind as he stepped his way in.

The cart wheels rattled a little as they pushed on down the road. Her father was talking to her but Elisha was having a hard time hearing him over the noise. She would occasionally turn her face to him and smile a little as if she was listening. He often talked and she had learned long ago that is was most often for himself rather than to her. Malthew was a very good salesman but when it came to conversations her mother tended to dominate them. The man seemed content to prattle on whenever he and Elisha were alone. The young woman assumed it was because she did not often comment or offer her own opinion. So he prattled on as she pretended to listen. Meanwhile he steered their horse down the road.

Malthew had been insistent that they attend the coronation. Elisha had hoped her parents would go, sell their wares and leave her to herself for a time. Her father had other ideas however. If he was going to sell the potions and things she had made than she should be there to answer any questions. On the way home he promised he would stop so she could gather plants that she might normally not find closer to home. That had been enough to get Elisha’s attention. The whole thing had caused a fight between her parents however. Jenna wanted to go, to mix with the nobles and sell in a market in the capital. She wanted to close the shop for the whole family to go. Malthew disagreed. The argument had gone on right up to the moment they had pulled away. Elisha had stayed out of it. She learned in her early years not to say anything that might be taken as her having an opinion, especially if it was not in agreement with her mother.

Her eyes began to grow heavy and soon closed. Malthew kept right on talking and never noticed when he daughter had drifted off to sleep. If he had he would have been surprised. Elisha had never slept well or for very long. From early in her childhood they would find the girl up all hours of the night. When she did sleep it was in short bursts and never seemed long enough. As a teenager and then as an adult they simply left Elisha to her own devices. Jenna had long ago thrown up her hands in despair claiming “If she doesn’t want to sleep I won’t make her. It is useless. She is a faulty thing.” It was just one of the many things the woman would say about her child. Malthew had always tried to soften the impact of his wife’s hard words but after a few years he could no longer stand up to the force that was Jenna.

Elisha slept and dreamt of wolves running. A great pack of them off on a hunt. She longed to join them. She could feel the pull of the pack, the need to run, to be free. She did not know what they were going after but she did not care. She wanted to be one with the pack but found herself too timid to follow. Even when the great alpha wolf turned and looked at her, their eyes meeting, all she could do was stand there. She awoke from the dream with a start.

When they arrived Malthew made short work of setting up the makeshift booth. He had prepared the cart so he could display the bottle and dried plants for the nobles. He wanted to see the coronation of course, it was a momentous occasion but he also hoped to profit from all the nobles would were descending on the capital for the event. A lot of coin would come through the city and he wanted to take advantage to the fullest.

Elisha found the place beautiful but frightening. There were too many people, too many buildings and not enough space. She found herself in an almost constant state of anxiety. She longed for the trees, for the dirt and the creatures that lived there. She stood in the booth and found she could hardly hear what people were asking. She looked over at Malthew helplessly.

I hate it here. Why did you make me come with you?

Elisha did not complain however, in fact she had barely said anything since they set out from their home.

By their second day in the capital her father pressed some coin into her hand and told her to go take in the market. Elisha donned her cloak, pulling her hood up over dark hair and ventured slowly into the crowd.

There were too many bodies. Too many people pushing against one another. Elisha tried to stay on the edges of the crowd. She stopped at one table to look at the wares there. Standing there a hand suddenly came down on her shoulder. Elisha almost jumped out of her skin. Her head whipped to look behind her. A elderly woman stood there. She was speaking to Elisha but over the noise of the crowd she could not really hear the woman’s words. She strained trying to listen but finally, tears in her eyes Elisha shook her head and darted away.

She ran and turned suddenly down an alley. Her heart was pounding, her chest rising and falling quickly. Elisha pressed her back against the cold stone wall of the building. Her eyes closed.

I just want the coronation to be over. Just stick the crown on the Prince’s head and let this be done.

A cold sweat had broken out on her body. It was too much. The city. The walls that surrounded it. The market. The people. She did not know anyone but her father. It was not that they were not nice there was just too many and she felt out of place amongst them.

Feeling calmer Elisha made her way back to her father’s cart. She pressed the coin back into his hand and stood by the cart, her eyes cast down to the ground.

Once the coronation is over I can go home.

Malthew frowned as Elisha gave him back the coin. Customers came to his cart so he left her to hide by the cart as he took care of them.

The day went on and many came to buy the bottled potions and tinctures. Heal salves went quickly as well. Elisha could not help but be happy to see so many interested in things that helped rather than harmed.

One man did come and inquired into a specific mix. He wanted one that would give the victim the appearance of sleep. Elisha listened from the shadows of the cart. Malthew explained to the man that things of that nature were only made specially for each person, that he did not carry it on a regular basis. If the man wanted it Malthew could certainly provide it to him for the right price. The man bartered with Malthew a bit. Her heart sank as she heard them agree on a price.

The day went on and Elisha withdrew to the cart as often as she could. She watched people approach and leave, watched her carefully prepared concoctions go to new homes.

”Did you hear me? Go get us some food for dinner.”

The young woman jumped and turned to face her father. She had not been paying attention and had not heard him approach. Malthew held out some coin. Elisha shook her head.

”You go. I will watch the booth.”

She did not want to go out there again. As it got closer to the afternoon the crowd picked up and more people had filled in the crowd. Elisha did not think it possible to fit so many people in a city, let alone in the market.

Malthew chuckled. ”Leave you to watch the booth? And what will you do when they ask you questions and you can hardly hear them? I don’t think so Ellie. Go on. Get us something tasty and a treat for after.”

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. He was right. She was no use to him in the booth and definitely at a detriment if she were alone. Elisha reached out and took the coin.

”Don’t take too long alright? I am hungry.” Malthew rubbed his stomach as if to emphasize his statement.

”Do you have something for a sour stomach?”

Malthew turned and faced the woman who stood at the cart. ”Of course!”

Elisha sighed, pulled up her hood and left him to the customer. She slipped out from behind the cart and join the throng of people.

Instantly her heart started pounding. She felt as if she were being suffocated. She tried to pretend they were all trees but the shoving and bumping kept breaking her concentration. Her lip quivered. One man shoved past her and almost sent her to her knees. Elisha tried to move with the crowd but felt as if she were like a fish trying to swim against the current.

Her eyes spotted bread and she made her way to the table. She leaned forward. ”Loaf of bread please.”

A round woman with rosey cheeks and a kind face turned to face her. She smiled. ”Pretty young thing you are and a loaf of bread you will have. Anything else?”

Elisha frowned and looked down at the table. The woman spoke in a loud voice and this was a blessing.

”Do you have anything sweet as well?”

Elisha looked around. Perhaps she could make short work of getting food and be back at the safety of the cart sooner than she hoped.

”Sweets for a sweetheart? I have these, dear. Pastries.”

The woman pointed to some sticky looking baked goods as Elisha blushed. ”Two please.”

She did not want one but after the woman’s tease she could not bring herself to only get one. Her hands darted out to drop the coin and grab the bread and sweet pastries.

”Thank you dear. Have a lovely day!”

Elisha wanted to go back to the cart but with only bread goods it would not do for a midday meal. She balanced the pastries in her hand, the bread was tucked under her arm as she sought out some meat. She could see dried meat hanging from one booth and tried to make her way through the crowd.

By the time she approached she was sweating lightly and on the verge of being ill. The crowd was just too much for her. She tossed some coin onto the table and looked up at the man.

He gave her a nod and pulled down a small bundle of dried meat. He placed it on the table and scooped up her coin. Elisha snatched the meat and immediately headed back to the cart. It was slower going than before. The crowd was thicker and her hands loaded down.

Elisha weaved slowly and tried to find space where she could. Once again she felt as if she needed to go in the opposite direction of everyone else. She spotted a clear path, though it would take longer to get to the cart that way Elisha prefered the space and greater distance to managing the crowd.

She stopped for a moment, closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Her breathing slowed and though there was still people she did not feel quite so squished here.

Elisha began to walk. This path took her around the backs of many of the booths and carts. She stepped over discarded vegetables and fruits.

If it could stay like this from now till we leave I will be grateful. If it was like this I might even enjoy the whole festivities of the coronation.

Elisha’s body had relaxed now that she was out of the majority of the crowd and few paid the cloaked woman any mind as she made her way.

Yyga ran his eyes across the wares strone across the decent length of the cart and let his sight wander. There were many bottles and bags with labels dotting them, some of which he knew upon looking what they did. But others that just left his mind to wonder what they did..
He looked on before his eyes came to look upon the man again and he spoke a question. "Do you happen to have anything for stamina?" He asked.

The thought donned him that when he had managed to use his gifts for too long a period at a time he would become too over taxed and not feel well. So it was that he clerified his question more. "Anything to sustain or restore ones own stamina, I know much of what you have placed here. But I do not see any for such a need."

Malthew smiled, "Of course if we do not have it now it can be made for you." He still eyed the man warily.

Elisha peered at the man from her hiding place in the shadows of the cart. He is a large man. Does not seem threatening but...

Malthew crossed his arms. "Tell me sir, how did you come about helping my daughter and I will see what I can do about sorting through some of my other inventory for what you are looking for as you talk. You do not look as if you are from around here." He waited a moment before turning to look through a trunk at his feet.

Elisha frowned. She knew she had made some things for stamina but more as requested by women for their men in bed. She did not think that was what this man meant.

Malthew was still half watching the man as he sorted through bottles waiting for an answer.

"I just happened upon her near the square, she seemed as though she was in a hurry and something was bothering her. I ment no impass by speaking or helping her I assure you" Vyga made an unconcious act of pulling one of his long blonde braids from his shoulder and over his back as he spoke.
"But you are right." He returned again.

"I come from the north, from the snow covered peeks and I am currently on.. a personal quest of sorts." He said as his eyes slowly drew away for a moment. He did not mean to impose at all. But to tell the man he was on a path of self discovery may be too much to speak for such an occasion.

Malthew nodded. "Aye I sent her out for food. Doesn't do well in crowds unfortunately." He smiled and winked at the shadow where Elisha hid.

Vyga drew his head back slightly in understanding, being that the state he found her in he was beginning to think he should ask another question about how and why she was reacting the way she did. The thought could be seen dancing around just behind his eyes as he thought more about it as the moment drew on.

"Now then are you looking for something to keep you going in the bedroom? I have a stamina boost for that. If you are looking for a specific draught though I am not the one who makes them. You'd have to see if you can coax a potion from her." Malthew pointed to the shadow where Elisha hid.

Elisha let out a small noise of surprise as Malthew pointed her out. Her hood was still on as she leaned just a little around the cart and out of the shadow. She did not make out all the words he had said but she knew he was talking about her.
"So then Mr...I did not get your name what sort of stamina restoration were you looking for?"

The young woman eyed the blonde man. He had braids in his hair and he spoke of being from the North. Her teeth were on her lower lip as she stifled the urge to ask him about the plants and animals there.

Looking down at her as she gazed up at him he smiled. "My name is Vyga little miss." He gave a slight bow of his head as he spoke. His lips budded a bit as he fought back a slight laughter as he said his spoke again. "So... is that all that brew is used for down here?" A slight snicker sat on the edge of his face and a smile formed at the edge of his eyes.

Elisha felt a blush form on her cheeks. "This particular one yes." She pointed to the bottle in Malthew's hand. "But it was made to be concentrated and focused for that um...well that particular problem."

Her neck felt hot now. Her fingers pulled on her hood to hide her face once again. "If you were looking for something specific I can tailor a potion for you. If you were looking for a general boost in the morning I can also put something together. Let my father know..."

She began to slink away again. Malthew stepped in front of Vyga. "So then...what can I do for you and we can negotiate price. While we do that....hungry?"

Malthew liked the man now that he knew he hadn't meant any ill will towards Elisha. He excuded a kind of calm. Malthew held out the bread that Elisha had bought to Vyga. "How long have you been travelling?

Elisha licked her lips and did not stray too far. She wanted to be able to hear everything that was said and it would get harder to do if she hid too far off. There was something about him that reminded her of an animal. It made her want to sit and talk to him the way she did the creatures that came to her in the forest when she was working. He had a wildness to him that was like an oasis in this stifling city. Vyga....

Vya takes a some of the bread, seeing as he has been enjoying the festivities all day he could use something in his stomach other then spiced meats and sweet stuffs. Looking back at Malthew.. "I am a person of certain skills.. those skills have a tendacy to drain my stamina rather quickly." He ran a hand over his chest slightly as if to emphasis what he ment.
Elisha frowned. Certain skills.

Malthew nodded appreciatively. Skills eh? Well I am sure I can give you a fair price." He held out the meat as well. "You know she is quite good. This isn't some snake oil. She can make anything and it will work too."

Elisha felt her cheeks turn warm once more. Hearing him brag about her made her feel strange. A stark contrast from her mother. It was good in a way, to see Malthew so outgoing now as his overbearing wife was not there to stifle them both.

She inched closer to the men. Her eyes on Vyga the whole time. He had helped her and he was something extremely interesting to her.

Malthew chewed a bit of bread. "Did you leave a wife behind then?"
Her hood slipped off, her long dark hair blew slightly now but Elisha was too busy trying to hear everything the man might say. She had so many questions about where he was from, where he was going and what he was looking for exactly.

The bay horse on which Aduro was saddled upon came toward the small cliff edge. He peered down the slow descent of the winding cobblestone road, appearing similar to a wavering scarf as it apathetically lowered down the cliff until it met flat land. At that point, the cobblestone road straightened out and led to the open gate of Paetax.

Three guards wielding halberds in their hands and short swords at their hips were positioned at the raised, steel fence gate. Two of them were on either side of the entrance while the third stood at the center, making entrees pay the capital tax. Several trade wagons were entering the city along with bands of rag-clothed peasants—probably from the outskirt villages of the capital coming to view the spectacle of the crowning.

Aduro made his way down the cliff path until he reached the flat land, and the hooves of his bay horse clacked against the stone road. He gripped the reins of his horse tightly, his steel-gray eyes observing the environment outside the walls of Paetax. Several stalls were set up for those who didn’t have enough gold to enter due to the levying tax. A small throng had been created from those types of people. They participated in idle chat without care, and Aduro would catch random words and phrases throughout conversation as he passed.

The demon hunter trotted up to the gate entrance on his horse, his right hand releasing from the rein of the powerful beast and lowering to his hip to fetch ten gold coins from his coin purse. Piling them up in the palm of his hand, he approached the center gate guard.

“How do you do sir?” The guard asked, a subtle smile stretching across his face, though somewhat concealed by his grandiose helmet with eagle wings stretching out on either side.

“Just take the money and let me pass. I’m in no need for delays,” Aduro replied dropping the ten gold coins into the open hand of the guard. With his comment, the guard’s countenance changed from a smirk to a scowl. With a quick hand movement of his gauntleted fist, he ushered Aduro to enter Paetax. And so he did.

Aduro continued down the main cobblestone road of Paetax, past the impoverished hovels and alleyways filled with drunks who had no clue what was occurring this day. There were always those kinds of low-lives in the major cities of Calisma. It was sickening, but oh so common. As he wandered on though, a tavern with a neighboring stable came into view.

In one fluid motion, Aduro released the reins and slipped off the saddle of his bay horse onto the cobblestone street. When he gained his footing on the ground, he took hold of the reins once again and led his horse to the stable, tying the controlling strings to a wooden post outside the tavern. He did it quickly and with precise execution.

When he was finished tying his horse, he meandered back onto the street, heading straight for the magnificent castle that was at the center of Paetax. As he did this, ravishing structures came into view: large mansions, luxurious medium-sized homes, and even stone towers that overlooked specific neighborhoods of the royal city.

Aduro passed through another gate, but this one belonged to the royal castle and was defended by the hierarchy of the Kings Guard. Gold plate armor adorned their anatomies, and flowing capes of violet streamed down their backs. There was no tax for this gate, for it simply led into a vast courtyard with a fountain of ever-flowing water and beautiful gardens.

Aromas of flowers filled Aduro’s nostrils as he entered the courtyard on food. A massive crowd of men and women had gathered here, their talk and gossip filling his ears with an unending audible tone. His eyes narrowed from the overbearing noise until he reached the grand doors of the castle, where a battalion of Kings Guard had been stationed, warding off those not invited into the throne room. The leading officer of the battalion stood at the center, a scroll gripped in his hands.

Ambling up to the officer, Aduro’s eyes scanned him thoroughly. He was a hulking man, and his strength was obviously noticeable. He was a veteran, but not too old—late twenties perhaps. “Aduro Demens,” the demon hunter stated clearly, his eyes still indifferent to his surroundings, even if they were immensely glorious. The officer nodded and looked down at the scroll, his eyes drifting downward until he gazed upward and nodded again at Aduro. The officer moved to the side and Aduro entered the throne room, his hands submerged in the pockets of his trousers.

On entering, three guards approached him immediately. “Your weapons please,” the guard demanded, displaying his open palm. Aduro shook his head, obviously irritated as he unsheathed his silver short sword, his satchel of silver bolts, and his crossbow. He handed them all over to the guards and they returned to their positions at either side of the hall.

The floor had been made of marble, and a violet and gold carpet glided down the corridor until it went through a door and led all the way up to the empty palatial throne. A monumental crowd of people had gathered in the throne room, and a good amount of those invited were standing in the hall that Aduro was traveling through. Simple chat was being executed, but Aduro took no heed of their dialogue; he continued on into the throne room, for it was now time for him to wait for the crowning ceremony.