Aerion [IC] Rated M
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January 12th, 2013 (10:52 AM). Edited January 13th, 2013 by Legend.
Cassandra "Cass" Alexandera- The Broken Keg, Dalenham
Alcohol has a way with Cass that makes her not particularly aware of what occurred around her. She slowly became uncaring and did not observe as much as she usually does, not that she did much when she was sober. The only time paying attention had sort of payoff when she was fighting, getting paid, flirting or drinking. She loved to do all the same time, but rarely was she that lucky. She continued to drink and enjoy the sights and sounds of the bar. Some patrons laughed about tall tales they told their friends, with others fell on their asses because they couldn't hold their liquor.
The band of mercenaries that she called her "friends" chattered amongst themselves. Something about being free after the little job they just completed. Sounded to her like they wanted to stick with Varian and herself. Varian and Cass had toured most of the countries of Aerion together for a number of years, taking impossible jobs and somehow ending up perfectly fine. Never before have they entered a band of more than a few others for more than a week or so. Usually because the others ended up dead or worse. Cass ignored the question, if only because the beer was more enticing at the time and the final decision rested with Varian more than her. Varian knew that Cass wouldn't care if the others joined or not, as Cass enjoyed their company enough to not insult them outright. Also Ava was adorable, Evelynn was a flirt (and Cass was totally going to hit on her later), Alys was enjoyable company (and could drink like a man), Xeye was…gone, and the Bofvar was hilarious. Speaking of the Dwarf…
“Cass, I might have to make some room in my schedule, but I think I could fit you in. Of course, I was hoping you might bring me to tears,” Bofvar said as he twirled his finger about his beard, offering a lewd wink as he reclined in his seat and propped his feet on the table.
"Oh, I'm sure I could bring you to tears," Cass said, leaning in close to Bofvar, glancing into his green eyes. "But before I do something like that, how about we play a little game?" Cass looked over to Varian, giving him a devilish grin. Varin knew deep in his hearts of hearts what was coming. And it was probably something he was not going to like. It was Cass being Cass, which meant they was going to be a tale or two to tell. "A drinking game. Rules are simple. We drink for drink, with each round, one picking the drink for the other. For example, I can say you will drink this drink, while you say I drink this drink. We go until the loser either passes out, vomits all over themselves or simply gives up. The loser pays for all the drinks we forced down our throats and has to do anything the winner wants. What do you say? Think you are Dwarf enough for it?" Cass said suggestively, playing with Bofvar's beard, before suddenly pulling away and leaning back in her seat. "Or are you going to wimp out like a some cloyster little Elf?"
Percival Grey- Top of Ekilore
Percival stood silent. The whole idea of doing a quest for the Monks was a bit overwhelming. Truthfully, he expected this. Perhaps it was the form in which they were summoned, perhaps it was the fact his brother was here (he always did the heroic act, though there was always some ulterior motive) or perhaps it was just intuition. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, Percival knew this was going to happen. But all the anticipation could not prepare him for the reality. It was this feeling of great honor that dumbfounded him, all the while, some of the others insisted on questioning the monks.
"How? How will this orb bring peace?"
Roland agreed, buying into the conspiracy. It was so like him to question people's motives instead of believing that good could exist in this world. For whatever reason, Percival did not like this group much already.
The leading monk cleared his throat a bit, before handing back the old book to the Eunuch.
"As far as the Orb of Ardor is concerned, your questions have merit," the monk continued, freeing his gaze turning his attention to the entire group. "The Orb of Ardor is an artifact from an age in which magic was potent and continuously studied, a far cry from today's Aerion in which magic is an art that people fear and prosecute. From what research we could complete, the Orb of Ardor contains extraordinary power and knowledge within it. In the proper hands, it could cure disease, stop wars, end famines and perhaps even…cheat death."
"I will not pretend to know everything however. We are the voices of the prophecies, not necessarily the interpreters of them. Our duty is to utter that which we see and hear, not decipher what is being said. The only knowledge given to us by this prophecy is that with it held the power to save this world. Yes, the idea of such an object existing is dubious. Yet throughout the millenniums of our existence, these prophecies have proven to be accurate. We present the opportunity to partake on a quest that could end in creating something that seems so unbelievable, yet now appears to be possible. Is it not worth taking the risk of uncertainty for a purpose far beyond any one individual or country?"
"However, I can understand that such a myth and story may be difficult to comprehend and above all, believe. It may sound too good to be true for some. Therefore, I offer this book as a sign of good faith. It is an ancient tomb written in a language lost in the sands of time, but with enough diligence, one could translate its scriptures and begun to understand the depths of Ancient magic. It is then you will realize the importance of the Orb of Ardor and realize that what I speak of is entirely possible," the monk said before motioning over to a eunuch and took an old, brown, dusty and seemingly heavy tome. He had looked at each of his Knights with his red eyes, peering at them as if reading their minds and souls. "Crystia. You will find the most use out of this."
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