Aerion [IC] Rated M

[Retro Bug]

Tamor Bellfiend
Ship
Theme Song​

Where...

am...​

I...?​

Tamor slipped in and out of consciousness multiple times before the consciousness stuck and her eyes slowly opened themselves. Her body was slumped against the far wall and ached as she tried to reposition herself. After several failed attempts of trying to summon her strength she gave up completely. Unsure of what to do next she focused on the one thing that always kept her calm, The Council Of Nine, more specifically Tella. Tamor's lips, a paler shade than normal, quivered as she began to chant the hymns she had learned from Eislynn. To anyone else it would sound like gibberish but those who followed knew the words by heart. As she chanted on the wounds that marked her stomach, back, and legs disappeared almost as if they had never happened. Except the emotional damage would forever be there and not a day would go by where she would forget this moment of helplessness. Her affinity for divinity magic was at this moment a blessing instead of a curse that Tella had bestowed upon her but she knew not what would happen in combat.

Within her reach laid her clothes, they were even folded in a nice little pile as if to taunt her. The other knights had somehow failed to hear her bloodcurdling screams that left her throat as sore as her body felt. A nervous laugh came from Tamor and it slowly grew louder and louder. She couldn't believe that she had actually become more pathetic since she accepted the invitation. Her emotions shifted, her laughs became sobs to the point where she couldn't breathe normally.

***

"Tamor, this is Auden... Your new friend!"

Tamor couldn't help but laugh because she didn't have any friends, especially those of the male gender. It was another attempt at trying to force her to have some social skills that she clearly lacked. The boy that stood in front of her was quite scrawny with lively, brown eyes. They were his best feature Tamor reluctantly admitted. His clothes were all muddy as if he had just got back from an adventure in the mountains. Boldly he came up to her and sat next to her where she fiddled with that grass that lay by her shoes. Her mother had shoved this play date on her but that didn't mean she had to oblige her mother's request to be happy about it.

"Say hello, Tamor..."

No, mother, I won't.

"Tamor... Tamor... Tamor!"

***

Tamor's body lunged forward as she awoken from her dream state somehow she had dozed off. Her mind had wandered back to the days of her youth. The days that she would love to permanently forget about, the days she had forgotten about before Auden Radke appeared back into her life. What happened to the kid who would talk to her nonstop even though she hardly spoke a word back to him? His life had been turned upside at some point, why was that? A now intrigued Tamor propped herself up as she clutched a nearby chair that held her weight. Slowly she redressed, once again making sure her identity remained a secret, well, to everyone whose name wasn't Auden Radke. Tamor turned around to see that there was a mirror behind her and looked into it. Despite it having cracks and pieces missing she could still see her face, she was still crying. Her hands were used to wipe away the tears before she threw open the door in search of him.
​

 

[Claire*]

Bofvar Blyr

Bofvar sat in his seat, his feet still propped on the table as he watched his comrades jump into action. What a fine mess they had gotten themselves into. Quite the bit of fun. Maybe it was the Lion's roar, but he hadn't thrown himself into the fray as quickly as he might normally have done. His friends seemed to be doing an admirable job without him, getting into a few scrapes but wiggling a way out of them just as soon. As foggy as his head was, he slowly brought himself to his feet and chugged the last of whatever the maid had brought him moments before the fight. The almost briny liquid went down with a bitter aftertaste, just like the evening was. A body came flying through the air, knocking into him from behind. The stocky Dwarf stumbled, but his low center of gravity saved him from taking a face-plant into the wooden floor below.

"Alright you spoony bards!" He turned around and threw his stein at the face of the man who bumped him, the toss catching him square between the eyes and felling the vagrant in one blow. "Come at me, but save the spirits! They've done nothing to ya!" Without realizing it, his invitation was more well received than he had anticipated. Apparently, a few of the patrons had just been waiting for an opportunity to throw a few punches his way. Not that he could blame them. His wit and abrasive charm was part of wait made him, him. One of the men's fists connected with his hardy, well formed jaw. A crack erupted from both his face and the man's hand, sending both reeling. Bofvar quickly brought his own hand up and popped the dislocated joint back into place, the pop satisfying and the pain dulled by liquor. "Like a face of marble chiseled by the gods," he called after his attacker, spitting out some blood as he did so.

The other man shifted his feet, a small knife appeared in his hands from some unknown source. Undeterred by his mate, who was currently nursing his hand, his evenings of self pleasure obviously out of commission for a while, the other lunged and went for quick horizontal slashes slashes at the arm. Bofvar's height at once gave him an advantage as he ducked under the attack, his body plowing forward and tackling the taller man against the wall. The impact of the blow loosened his assailant's grip on the small blade as it tumbled harmlessly away. "Oi, bringing a knife to a bar fight. Your mother raised you wrong, boy!" With an effort of great strength, he lifted the man and flipped him end over end, before slamming his head against the ground. Two down, the whole rest of the bar to go.

Nimbly ducking in-between the blows and people lining the floor, he tried his best to make it out the door, where it seemed the others might be trying their best to go. Almost to the exit, a woman crossed his path and hit him right in the arm. He was taken aback, not by the blow, but by who threw it. She couldn't have been more than an inch taller than him. He had fell men almost twice her size. Throwing up his arms, he backed away, a wry smile crossing his lips. "Little lady, I don't want to fight you."

"Good!" The girl shouted and brought one of her legs up right between his own. A nearby table was the only thing that saved him from collapsing entirely, his eyes filling at once with stars and then with darkness, before slowly regaining his composure. The woman didn't let up, however. She pounced on his back, her hands flying against his head and reaching around to yank his beard. The long growth of hair securely wrapped in her hands, she pulled on it like a yoke and reared back. He stumbled out into the alley, darkness embracing the two as he did. The only light coming from whatever artificial sources were nearby. Throwing his back against the alley wall, he kept it up until the woman fell off and slumped down, her breathing come in hurried and shallow.

"Now," he wheezed, his testies still sore from the prior blow, as he leaned down to look her in the eyes. Brushing the auburn hair from her face, he tried his best to get a better look. "You're fortunate," he whispered to her and saw her eyes look up at him as he spoke. "Most men would have made you pay dearly for that." He drew closer, his face directly in front of hers. "I'm just going to let you off with a warning." The girl smiled, her face trying its best to look as innocent as possible before she reared back and headbutt him, blood starting to drip down her face. As he stumbled back again, she scrambled to her feet and took off down the alley, disappearing into the night.

"Wait!" He shouted after her, his hand running to his head almost in disbelief. It was too late, she was gone, probably never to be seen again. "I like that in a lass..."​

 

[Swolligator]

Victoria "Alys" Taimor - The Broken Keg, Dalenham

​

Victoria didn't have time to thank Ava as she was lost into the fray of flying fists and hurtling bottles. The floor beneath her feet was covered in shards of glass and wood amongst a mixture of blood, sweat and mead. She was injured more than before; her shoulder now aching much more than it had before and several cuts were slowly coagulating on her face and bare skin.

Victoria looked around her, trying to find a way to escape, but all around her, hot, angry bodies collided with each other. The bad backed onto the far side of the tavern, possibly opening up into an alleyway or into a house beyond where the owners live; either way, it was a no go. The door was somewhere off to the side, but would be blocked by most of the fighting if it hadn't already sprawled out onto the streets. Over the roar of the crowd, she heard the sharp, shattering sound of a window being broken and an idea finally formed in her mind.

With her arm out of order for the time being, Victoria crawled beneath a small, two person table just as soon as someone was dragged off of it to join the brawl. On her knees with her back straight against the flat wood of the table, she took a couple of breaths in order to prepare herself. What she was about to do was crazy, but she still continued to look behind her, waiting for the perfect moment where her way would be free.

There! The light streamed through the window covering Victoria's body in it's white glow and she suddenly launched up from her feet, wheeling backwards and feeling the table collide with the window, glass showering down upon her. Turning quick before someone grabbed her, Victoria vaulted with her un-injured arm, leaving the hot, sticky brawl behind and feeling a cool wave of air wash over her.

Victoria's moment of victory was short lived as could not see any sign of Ava and was tempted to jump back into the brawl to find her. Retreating into the shadows across the road from the tavern, she watched patiently for Ava to exit, all the while trying to keep an eye out for any of the other members from their band of mercenaries to emerge.​

 

[Legend]

Cassandra Alexandera- Dalenham, the Broken Keg

The sounds of war filled Cass' mind. The roars of men, the cries of women and children, the carnage of battle and the smell of blood all painted a picture of this beautiful chaos in her head. A vision was constructed before her and it was pleasant. Was she dreaming? She wouldn't put it past her. It had happened before. But it was different. It was like she was in the battle, not observing it.

"You dumb b*tch!" Cass heard a burly man roar. His breath stunk of a cheap ale and she could feel the saliva launch from his mouth all over her deceptively delicate features. He grabbed her by the collar of her low cut shirt, stealing a peek of her assets. This all felt too real to be a dream, and it was making her…uncomfortable. Surprisingly so. "I am going to do terrible things to you, and you are going to enjoy every moment of it, aren't ya?" More saliva. Lovely. Cass was still out of it. All that drinking hit her harder than she thought. How was the dwarf still conscious? Nevermind that one chick with the Fire ale. She looked like a wimp, too. Cass needed to stop underestimating people. The feeling in her hands were returning though, but her head was still woozy. The thick wind from the man's putrid mouth was getting closer and an intoxicated group of men gathered around. Cass was surrounded and she felt….pressured to act. To defend herself. To fight back. But she felt weak. Helpless. Didn't she get knocked out a few moments ago? Some pretty boy did it too.

Ugh, Cass thought to herself. What's wrong with me?! Why am I getting rusty? I only killed like 42 orcs today too. My body count was at least 69 the other day. I made sure to get that number too. Cass felt a tear run down her cheeks.

"Oh hey guys! The ***** is crying. How cute! She must realize how ****ed she is!"

"Not exactly," Cass said, subconsciously. She had no idea what came over herself. "That tear was for you."

"Eh?" A suddenly a loud crack echoed through the Broken Keg, living up to its namesake. The man who had grabbed Cassandra was sprawled out on the floor, his left leg limp as if every bone shattered into pieces. The encircling crowd was speechless. Dumbfounded, even. In its wake, Cass fixed her outfit, cleaning herself off a bit.

"Who's next?" She said, cracking her neck and knuckles.

Cass kicked up a stool from under a local patron, grabbed in midair and broke it over the head of an attacking patron, dodged another attack and drove a leftover piece of wood into the leg of another. A quick quarter turn lead to a mean left hook in which Cass could feel the man's face mold around her fist as she launched the man into the ground. Two more men attacked at the same time and Cass stumbled over her feet, unable to keep her balance. The alcohol was slowing her down. One grabbed her from behind and the other punched her in the gut. The man kept up his assault until Cass swung her legs up and kicked the man back, causing him to fall back into a table. Cass flung her head back, knocking the man who grabbed her square in the noise with a loud crunch. She freed herself and then lifted her knee into the man's groin, making him fall back in pain.

More victims threw themselves at Cass, and she dodged the attacks with a clumsy dance of steps, often throwing the attackers into one another with a mix trips, elbows, punches and headbutts. Cass made her way to the bar, fighting through the crowds with a few cuts and open wounds. A couple of brutes thought it was clever to pull out their knives and slash at Cass, but she disposed of them easily enough by driving their knives into their shoulders with a fancy parry she learned from Varian. At the bar, she drove two attackers heads into the counter leaving a little bloodstain as a reminder. She kicked up another bar stool and threw through the crowd, parting them and making a straight line back to her sword that was left on the ground. She returned to its resting place on her back and stood in the middle of tavern, hiding from the fight to catch her breath.

The door out of the Broken Keg was blocked. Far too much fighting to go through and she didn't want to kill anyone. Dalenham was too important of a city to be wanted in. A small fickle of brilliance came over her, which was surprising. Cass was never one for bright ideas. That was Varian's speciality. She was only really good at fighting and surviving. Cass grabbed a relatively innocent bystander and chucked him out the window with a thunderous smash of shattering glass. Cass dived out the window after that instant, rolling on to the cobblestone street.

 

[SV]

Varian Sigmund- Dalenham. the Broken Keg

Varian had a plan. It wasn't a very good one, given that the people of Vanaheim had naturally larger bodies than most of the other nations. Nevertheless, what Varian wanted to do most in this barfight was to simply observe. He wanted to watch how the others of his group fought. He wanted to see what tactics they used, what fighting styles they employed, how they used their surroundings, and maybe even how they fought alongside each other. A barfight was the perfect chance for Varian to get a good look at his new team for the upcoming job they had, and get some ideas on assigning them roles in the team based on their strengths and weaknesses. Besides, they say in Aerion that you can't join a mercenary group until you've had at least one good barfight. This could sort of be like an initiation.

Of course, all that didn't matter because of the fact that he was being targeted apart of this as well. Though he may not be the tallest or biggest Highman these patrons ever saw, he happened to be in the center of the entire entanglement, and therefore a prime target. A man came at him with a fists flailing, clearly drunk but with Varian as his intended target. As the man leaned in for a punch to Varian's face, he sidestepped and placed a leg in front of his feet, causing him to stumble over. Varian brought him down indefinitely with a punch to the back of the head. He looked over just in time to see Alys sidestep a rather large man and causing him to run straight into the side of the tavern.

Fast. He noted in his mind, just as a bottle came flying at him. He ducked at it, the bottle instead crashing into the wall behind him. Alys was then hit on her shoulder, which he could tell was probably injured from before. Out of pain, she collapsed on the ground. Not bodily strong, Varian thought in his mind, but as he thought this, a precise kick to the man's knee caused it to most likely break. But…resourceful. Varian was suddenly hit from behind with what he believed to be a kick to his back. He grunted in pain, and turned to face his attacker, a smaller man, and quite stocky as well. He was grinning, believing his preemptive move was all the advantage he needed to finish off Varian. Fool.

Varian intercepted his next punch, and squeezed down on his wrist, which produced a shriek of pain from the man. The man, desperate to try to free himself, launched his other arm at Varian's face, which was also intercepted by his hand. Varian then proceeded to give the man a headbutt right to his face. The force of the hit must have immediately knocked him out, but to be sure, he picked him up and dropped him onto a table nearby, breaking it in half under the weight of the fat man.

He looked up, just in time to see Alys in the arms of another muscular patron. He thought of helping for a moment, but saw that Ava had already taken up that role. Willing to come to the aid of a comrade, He noted about her. It was good. Often, groups of mercenaries came only to care about their own lives and little or none for the others of the group. Her next move was something the likes of which he hadn't seen…probably ever. A few quick gashes from a broken bottle, followed by a lemon on the wound. Unconventional, but effective, He thought. That would be useful, someone who thought quickly on their feet.

A bottle suddenly hit Varian on the back of the head, causing him to fall to the floor in pain. He momentarily thought he would black out, but shook his head and attempted to come to his senses. He felt the back of his head, and looked at his hand to see a bit of blood on it. Varian turned to his attacker. It was the same man from the League of Warriors that partially initiated the fight to begin with. "On your feet, Highman! I'll take you on fairly. Let's see how a warrior of the north fights!"

Idiot. Varian shook his head as he reached for a shard of glass from the bottle on the floor, and hid it in his hand as he slowly rose up. Then, in one swift movement, he stuck the shard right on the eye of the person. He yelled out, holding his eye in pain as blood began to flow from the wound. He flailed at a few tables around. "This isn't a joust. There is no fair, there is no honor. There's just you and me, and anything we want to use as weapons." The man began to show signs of recovery from the immense pain of his eye to glare angrily at him, read to attack. Varian in the meantime, grabbed a stool, and threw it on the man, causing him to cover up, and allowing him to run right at the man and elbow him right on the jaw, seemingly knocking him out right before he hit the ground with a deep thud.

Varian turned just in time to see the dwarf Bofvar get connected by a punch to the face, but not backing down to much. Can take a punch, he observed. Bofvar was, it seems, the typical dwarf. Loud, rowdy, durable. All traits Varian liked. He felt the two would not only fight together well, but get along quite splendidly as well. That is, if he didn't end up pushing Eveamoorian daisies too soon.

Varian turned once more to get a look at Cassandra, but really, after years in her company, was there anything else he needed to see about her? She was absurdly good with her blade for her size, and able to come up with the most irregular means of fighting an opponent he had ever seen. And that was when she was drunk. Despite thinking that this barfight did give him some insight on the others, Cassandra proved to him a long time ago that what you see with your eyes isn't always what you're going to get. He was sure there was much more to the others, but that would have to be seen as he continues to fight alongside them, if they manage to stay alive long enough, that is.

However, as Cassandra chucked a man out of the window of the bar, it seemed like a signal for Varian that it was perhaps time to get the hell out of there. No doubt, guards would have heard the commotion by now, and were on the way to put whoever began the fray in jail. Alys seemed to figure this before Varian had to say anything, and Cass was out of the tavern soon after. To the rest of the group, he yelled after. "Oi! Come on, we're getting out of here!" The tavern window was broken from the man Cass threw out, but as Varian burst through it a second time, a larger area was open to climb out of, easing the passage for the other three. He landed on his feet with a large thud of his weight, though adrenaline pumped through his body, he felt the minor stings of the injury to the head he had recieved earlier, along with a slight new pain on his shoulder. Taking a look at it, he noticed as a piece of glass stuff onto him from the window. Ignoring it for now, he walked over to Cass, helping her onto her feet. "Come on. Let's move away before the guards show up." He said, leading them over to a smaller street away from the main marketplace, and away from the mayhem of the Broken Keg.

 

[Xlugon Pyro]

XEYE ANASTASIA ZXKOL​

THE BLUE WILDCAT​

Chaos erupts throughout the bar in an instant. Xeye takes in the sights of her environment, rushing to her feet wide-eyed to get the hell out of there.

"C'mere!" snarls an angry, drunken man behind her, yanking her blue hair to grab a hold of her, pulling her in before wrapping his other arm around her midsection.

The man's right arm throws itself over her neck, getting caught in a head lock in an effort to disable the feisty woman in his arms. The girl squirms around as the man reaches for the woman's skirt, grabbing the top and beginning to undress her. Wrong target. Xeye lifts her right leg, focusing before throwing her heel back to smash into the man's knee. Unfortunately, this only causes the man to squeal in pain, stumbling backwards before he crashes into the ground on his back, Xeye's neck still caught in his arm's grip. Not good enough. The half-elf manages to free herself from one arm though, and that might be enough for her to turn the tables on this fight. Her right arm swings at the man's forearm, pinching some of his skin before his other arm comes back around her midsection. Surprising the man, the flesh around Xeye's grip begins to twist and turn with the growth of dancing flames, burning away the flesh on his forearm. The woman throws her left leg up before bringing it down upon the man's lerft knee, releasing his grip in agony before the half-breed thrusts herself to her feet. Her gaze fixes on the panicking man, clutching his right arm in terror.

"She's a witch! A mage!" screams the man, eyes stretched to their maximum as he points at her in fear.

Xeye reacts before he leaks too much information, stabbing his blubbery belly with her strong left heel, sending him into the legs of a table, causing its contents in addition to the table itself to land upon his vulnerable body. In an instant, the man's body is completely engulfed in flame, the fire spreading rapidly after a flammable mug of alcohol drenched his body. Xeye uses this chance to escape, breaking through the door and rushing out onto the ****** street with a few others of her band. Her assailant, however, runs around in fear, crashing into several other patrons and tables, which only serves to spread the inferno much quicker, setting ablaze other crazy drunks as well.

Varian soon joins the rest of them outside, Xeye picking up her pair of axes she left outside and mounting them on her harness as she fits its around her figure. Hearing the loud, terrified bellowing from the bar's interior, the impish woman turns her gaze to their "captain", so to speak, the girl smirking in his direction with one of her axes leaning over her right shoulder.

"Wolf Pops!" squeaks the half-elf, hoping to grab the Highman's attention. "Can I destroy this dump of a bar? Pleeeeeeeaaase, Wolf Pops!?"​

 

[CarefulWetPaint]

Auden Radke, Captain's Ship.
Theme.

This ship trip should be much more bearable than the last now I've gotten a toy. Auden thought as he carefully began folding Tamor's clothes, the pleasure of playing with her still fresh. He placed the clothes in a neat pile close to her slumped form before admiring his handiwork which was currently scarring her body in the way of blistered cuts. Reaching out, he ran his hand along the gash on her back, finding joy in the feeling the blisters and cut gave his fingers. Ah, such a wonderful gash.. this feeling of blistered and bloody skin.. He nearly lost himself in thought before taking pulling his hand back to regain his composure once again. Taking a step back he sat down in the rooms lone chair and began looking over her once more.

She definitely has elf ears, though she definitely looks more like a dwarf. A half dwarf, half elf person was definitely a rarity in the world and Auden had yet to see another that wasn't Tamor which lead him to wonder how her parents had met. A lot of scenarios ran through his mind as he tried his best to figure out the most plausible before deciding a drunken one night stand was probably the most likely cause, which would explain why he had yet to see her father. Tamor you're a lucky girl, he thought to himself as he stood up and made his way to the door. "You'll never die as long as I live, and I'll try my best to see that you aren't hurt by anyone else either. I do take good care of my toys. I'm going to get you a drink, stay here." He exited the room, closing the door behind him and made his way towards the galley once again. Ah, why did I even say that, she's still passed out.

The galley looked basically the same as when he first ventured in it while looking for a knife for his release from withdrawal hell. There was a difference though, there was now a few sailors working around the galley setting it for the crews next meal as well as a few kitchen staff who were going in and out of the kitchen. Catching a whiff of what was cooking in the kitchen nearly knocked the wind out of Auden, whom would have preferred a grand meal on the night that he finally broke his accidental cold-turkey stop in fulfilling his sadistic needs. Though slightly disheartened he continued onwards to a sailor whom was setting the tables. "Mr Sailor, I was wondering where I could get a glass of water?"

"Ah, just ask in the kitchen mate. They'll be able to set you up." Replied the sailor, not taking his eyes away from the table he was cleaning.

"Why thank you." Auden completed the pleasantries which would make him seem like he was a polite person now that he wasn't overly anxious about his habit. Inside the kitchen there was more staff than he had first thought, each seemingly having their own job in the process of making dinner, ranging from peeling potatoes to cooking up whatever it was that was hitting his nose hard. Looking around he spotted a rack of glass mugs that were close to a water barrel. What luck. Weaving around the busy kitchen staff he liberated a mug and some water without notice, though he was doubtful that anyone would care even if they had seen him.

Stopping on his way back to where he had left Tamor, he looked out of a port hole, the ship was now definitely sailing since on the edge of the horizon only had a slight outline of land. It reminded him of the trip to Ekilore, the memory of his withdrawal's leaving a sour taste in his mouth as he continued on to the room. To his surprise the door swung open just as he reached for the handle to reveal a puffy eyed Tamor. "He'll my darling toy, I got you a drink of water," He was smiling gently as he spoke to her. "You're all puffy eyed, we should probably wait in the room until you stop crying."

 

[Lilizuki]

Crystia
~
"Crystia." The elf to which that name belong answered, after having listened to the armored man list of his credentials as though they made him some form of leader, when not a single large-scale battle or commanding victory was contained within. She moved past him with a few steps, heading on to the deck of the ship along with the Captain's orders of setting sail for the horrid seas. "However, Rolly, I don't see any part in that list of titles that marks you as a good leader. Being able to control your own bodily functions is all well and good, such as in that tournament you're proud of, but being able to control other people is what marks a good leader." She leaned briefly against the side of the deck and turned her piercing gaze completely on the man, brushing aside her bangs only for a moment. "So I will not be following your orders, and you will kindly respect that."

With that dismissal over with, Crystia gracefully climbed up the mast of the Captain's ship, having to maneuver about with more balance than she would have liked thanks to the lack of a true ladder, but it was not as horrible as it would have been were she to attempt it while the ship was in motion. Restful nights were going to be rare enough, without having to worry about being thrown from the crow's nest like an unwanted visitor in a cow shed. Whatever the other so-called Knights were doing for the time being didn't matter much, as she had an entire ship to watch before she was stuck drudging through whichever horrors the people that tended to hide artifacts chose as safe environments for said relics. She would have more than enough of them then.

Another sailor was occupying the small section of the ship, though the elf paid him no heed despite the curious glance at a non-sailor sitting atop that spot. The view was lovely enough, stretching out across the waters that held promises of wonderful beauty and the darkest horrors that could ever befall a person. The deep blue was going to be her strongest enemy in the journey, but at least a lot of other people would die with her, in a curious twist of fate that doomed the people deemed saviors. But such were stories yet to be told, and for now she would be able to creep out the sailors by looking a bit like a ghost when night came. Or fighting off slavers, if that turned out to be the kind of people they were.

 

[Legend]

Knights of Ekilore- Welcome to Shingou

​

Much to the Knight's delight, Captain Crewe spoke truthfully and you see the land of Shingou in the horizon. An isolated island nation, Shingou has slowly grown into a relatively successful economic power built on agriculture and trade. It has been always been a keen interest of outsiders, but Shingou has remained a mystery as few scholars remain due to the homogenous population and the reclusive nature of its people. The rolling green hills and diverse geography in the north has remained the only notable characteristics of Shingou, as there is only a sole major city in Zhongshen where its emperor Taiki Okane rules the caste based society with an iron fist. However, because of the bustling trade and farming industries, small villages have been built along the shores and breathtaking green hills of the Shingouese countryside.

The black ship slowly pulls into the port town of Duānkǒu. Captain Crewe barked orders at his sailors, prepping the ship for landing and the crew for a swift yet comfortable arrival. Duānkǒu was an unremarkable town at best, with small buildings built around a fairly sizable port. Located in central Shingou, Duānkǒu was easily the largest of the port towns, almost reaching the status of "city" as far as foreigners were concerned. Fishing boats floated idly in the harbor and the port was full of larger trading vessels and smaller fishing boats.

Soon enough, Captain Crewe howled until the ship anchored at the port and was tied down to the poles that were dotted across the port. As the Knights descended down to the wooden port, mere feet above the crystal clear water of the Sea of Storms, there was reasoning behind the vast ocean of people before them. At the head of the crowd, waiting for the arriving Knights was a man of unremarkable height and build, surrounded by armored guards, with the distinct armor of the Shingou elite, called the Senshi in the local tongue. With long black hair and youthful features, he seemed to be like any other individual on the port but he was far from it. He wore a dark red silk robe with an elaborate design of golden mythic dragons embroidered on the robe. At least that is what the Shingouese called them. Floral designs were stitched on the edges of the robes. The man wore a blue silk shirt underneath the robe. A few fine golden jeweled rings styled his fingers, completing an image of wealth, importance and regality.

"Welcome Knights of Ekilore to Shingou," he said as he greeted the arriving knights with a low bow.

 

[SV]

Varian Sigmund- Outside Broken Keg, Dalenham

Varian waited for the rest of the group to exit the tavern. He continually looked to the sides of the sh*t-filled streets in expectation of the inevitable appearance of guards. He hoped however, that he and the others would be long gone before they got here. He certainly didn't intend to spend the night in a cell the night before finding new work, especially one so rewarding.

"Wolf Pops!" The voice of Xeye filling his ears. Varian turned over to see her exiting the bar. Behind her, he noticed chaos still ensuing. He squinted his eyes, seeing not only fighting now, but also fire.

"Isir be damned..." He whispered under his breath.

"Can I destroy this dump of a bar? Pleeeeeeeaaase, Wolf Pops!?"

"What are you, mad?" He bellowed at the tiny girl. "Are you fixing to get a price on our heads? Or hanged?!" His gazed remained on her for a few moments longer, before he gazed away back at the streets. He could hear the guards apparently already on their way. "Gods...!" Alright," he began, addressing the group. "Do what you want. I care not. But mark me. Tomorrow upon the dawn, we set out on the job. If you're not present, I'll take it as a sign you've decided to part ways. That, or you're in the dungeon. Or dead. Whatever the reason, we take off without you."

Without another word to the group, Varian grabbed a hold of a still very drunk Cassandra on the floor of the ****-filled cobblestone street, and slung her over his neck, taking off to one of the many roads away from the tavern. Whatever they decided to do, he'd see the others tomorrow. Or not.

***TIMESKIP***​

Varian Sigmund- Edward's Tavern, Dalenham

A sharp pain came from the center of Varian's forehead. He groaned, placing a hand upon the area of discomfort, as if to try and rub it away. Ironically, went he rubbed his hand around the area, he felt an oddity, and looked back upon his fingers to see the remains of dried blood. Despite the throbbing in his head, Varian sat up, his gaze lingering on his fingers for a moment longer. As he looked around the room, a few questions came into his mind. How did he end up here? Where exactly was he? And who in Isir's name was the unclothed woman lying next to him?

As he got out of bed and began dressing himself, he contemplated these questions. Parts of his body ached as he looked at a few places were new bruises and scratches were formed. Some of them he was able to identify from the barfight. Others were new to him, their origin likely afterward, but from what Varian could recall. By the sound of his movement, the woman began to stir, yawning and stretching her limbs as she opened her eyes. She looked up at Varian who stared down at her. Her features were quite nice. Long brown hair and eyes to match it. She was well-figured, and her skin was smooth and relatively flawless. For a Dalenham girl, at least. There was a moment or two of silence between the pair, before the woman gave the Highman a smile, and spoke softly. "Good morning." She said softly to him.

"Good morning." He stated back to her. He continued to dress himself as he placed on his sleeveless leather vest, and then his baldric over that. Harnessing his axes upon his back, he looked back down to the woman. Again, a brief pause between the two. She continued to smile up at him, while Varian shifted between examining the room and the woman. "Sleep well?" she asked him.

"More or less." Varian replied. He paused momentarily on what he should say next, but then decided to blurt out, "So...shall I pay you now or have I already done so last night?"

The next sight Varian saw was a hand coming upon his cheek, smacking him loudly enough that perhaps if others outside the door were present, they too would have heard it. Varian's cheek instantly starting becoming red from the slap. "Right." He said, heading for the door. "I suppose that means last night..." He said in a rush, exiting the door, just as the woman began cursing after him.

On the other side of the door, Varian found himself in the familiar sight of Edward's tavern. The old, creaky, filthy-looking tavern looked much the same as it did when he entered it the day before to collect his silver for the job, though some tables appeared to have been damaged. A few stools also appeared to be out of place. Varian began to recall a bit of what happened though it was all very hazy. After he split apart from the group, he and Cass must have headed here. He remembered Cass challenging him to another round of drinking. He didn't remember exactly how, but the damned woman had somehow managed to coerce him into it, and the rest was history.

"You silver-tongued devil, you." The familiar voice of Edward said to Varian from behind his counter at the helm of the tavern. He smiled spitefully at the Highman as he cleaned a mug with a dirty rag. He headed towards Edward without an immediate reply, rubbing the side of his face as he tried to orient himself.

"How much for the room?" Varian asked in his usual cold voice.

"Oh, you already paid las-", Edward stopped himself in the middle of his sentence. "...Uh, that'll be fifteen bronze pieces." He said with a smile. Varian did not bother to put up a fight about the ridiculous price of the room, still feeling the effects of the no-doubt large amount of drinking he had done the night before. He placed the bronze pieces from his bag onto the table, and looked around the dump of a tavern.

"Have you seen Cass around?"

"Eh? Not since last night. Boy did you two go at it. Haven't seen this dump this lively since the Guild Wars! I should have the two of you drunk off your brains in my bar more often, it's great for business!"

Varian stopped listening to the man after he mentioned he hadn't seen Cassandra, and began to head for the exit. Edward kept on shouting after Varian as exited the bar, and for a while too as he was outside, but eventually the sounds of his voice faded away as he integrated back into the main street. Varian was able to get it together along the way, shaking off most of the effects of liquor through the 'fresh' air of Dalenham, and was feeling loads better as he approached the gates of Dalenham, where the group was supposed to meet. Already at the gates was the merchant, who beamed at the sight of the first of them.

"Ah! You have come! I was worried none would show, especially after that incident that happened last night at the tavern you were frequenting. Did you hear about it? Terrible news, the guards even had to arrest a few ruffians."

Varian kept his silence, not replying to the merchant beyond the initial nod he gave him upon seeing him. But he did wonder if any of those 'ruffians' the merchant spoke of that now occupied the Dalenham dungeons were any of his group. He supposed he would soon find out.

 

[Xlugon Pyro]

XEYE ANASTASIA ZXKOL​

THE BLUE WILDCAT​

THUD!!!

Xeye's vision slowly returns to her, gradually changing from back to a dull blur before the full color and detail of her surroundings find their way to her eyesight. However, the recovery of her vision didn't answer another problem. The girl's head throbs with blunt pain on the side of her head that happened to have a make-out session with the ground. Why is she in pain? Why is she on the ground? Why... is this town so ugly? Wait a second...

"...This really hurts!" she realizes, sitting herself up to rub her ailing cranium.

Her eyes zoom around the landscape, taking in the derelict town in front of her before her vision passes over the scene of two people mingling to explore the scenery behind her: a vast, open landscape of fields, farms and trees that detail the fading from civilization towards the untamed wilds.

"What is this place? ...What's that!?" her gaze shifts upward, inspecting the architecture of the town's gate, which, surprisingly, are quite artistic in design, contrasting with the dull architecture across the rest of the town.

"Oh!" she locks onto the barked plant above her: a tall tree with large branches growing out all across its trunk. She must've fallen out of the tree.

The half-elf's memory rolls back to yesterday, recalling the events that transpired at the Crappy Crud or whatever that stupid tavern place was called. Her gang had vacated the bar's insides and were about to set out on their own to reconvene later the day after. Wolf Pops had left with Apples over his shoulders and told everyone to fend for themselves. It was a sensible course of action, and one that she suspects is typical of the gang's operation, using it gives them all a sense of independence and also prevents one of the mercenaries to become too reliant on the assistance of others to maintain job efficiency.

"What are you, mad?" she recollects Wolf Pops' words earlier yesterday. "Are you fixing to get a price on our heads? Or hanged?!"

"Well... I-uh..." Xeye stammered for words, briefly remembering that she actually DOES have a bounty on her head, and igniting that one guy back in the bar might not help her keep the low profile she's been after. She wisely kept this fact secret from Wolf Pops, her face depressed by his remarks on her proposed actions.

He later continued as the rumbling of guards was heard in the distance. "Alright. Do what you want. I care not . But mark me. Tomorrow upon the dawn, we set out on the job. If you're not present, I'll take it as a sign you've decided to part ways. That, or you're in the dungeon. Or dead. Whatever the reason, we take off without you."

"Eeeheeheheheehee!!" she giggled in delight as Wolf Pops and Apples took to the streets in retreat. "Guess that means yeeeeeeeeesssss!!"

Her gleerful delight brought her up to the tavern, swinging her axes twice across its surface, cutting open a deep gap into the bar's walls while releasing a stream of flames with each swing of her axes. The act therefore set that portion of the bar ablaze, grinning childishly over her labor before she scurried off into the streets like a squirrel.

What happened after that was fairly inconsequential. After successfully escaping the stampede of angry guards in the pursuit of bringing order to the town, she found a small joint that served grilled and spiced meats: an attraction that Xeye just couldn't refuse. Her meal gave her awful heartburn later, but the tastiness was worth it, as the rest of her day was spent scrounging around for drinkable water, a commodity that was far too difficult to find in a urban hub. Her day left her in an exhausted daze, grappling with an angry esophagus and dealing with the crazy townsfolk who all seemed to be suffering from dramatic mood swings or who were just unpleasant people. She found herself at the tree right by the city gates after deciding that the inns available in town were full of strange men who never left her alone or were ran by cranky grampas who yelled at her for all sorts of crazy reasons. The tree looked nice at the time, so she had thrown herself up into the boughs of the large tree, left hidden by the camouflaging leaves as she drifted to sleep right by the place Wolf Pops designated as their meeting place the following day.

"Oh!" Xeye's memory snaps back to her, recognizing that her rude awakening resulted from her curved body slipping from the tree before colliding with the hard road below her. Her head still hurts though, rubbing the sore spot to distract herself from the pain. However, the bright side of this situation is that she's up early and is likely to be on time for Wolf Pops' appointment.

"Who were those people?" she remembers, dialing back to the figures she spotted earlier convening at the city gates. "Oh! Wolf Pops!"

Xeye leaps on onto her feet, excited by her recognition of their gang leader. She stumbles slightly as she approaches him, still delirious from her fall, but she collects herself, righting her posture and continues prancing towards Wolf Pops like an excited child.

"Hey! Hey hey hey! Wolf Pops! Hi!" she yells, scrambling towards the two men's positions with a ridiculously blissful smile beaming towards her gang leader. "Heeelloooooo!!!"

Her eyes don't stay fixed on the Highman for long, identifying the strange, cloaked man they met yesterday who offered them their job. He's the whole reason why their gang decided to gather here in the morning.

"Oh! Hi there Mister Cloaked Guy!" she exclaims excitedly, waving obnoxiously in the air despite him being a mere meter or so away from her. "What're you up to? Why are you here? Is this about this job thing you offered us? Huh? Is it?"​

 

[Retro Bug]

Tamor Bellfiend and Auden Radke
Captian's Ship / Shingou City
​

Tamor instantly shrunk herself as Auden came into her line of sight, his tone conveyed such confidence that it bothered her. It felt like he knew he had her like a cornered rat and that she should just be submissive but if she let that happen, what else would he be able to get away with? Before she realized it she had slapped him hard against his now redden left cheek, which left a visible handprint on it. Her anger had been waiting to get out and now it had its chance. Tamor snatched the mug from his fingers and emptied its contents onto Auden before smashing it onto the ground. Afraid of his reaction she ran back into the room and shut the down, she leaned against the door, which she hoped would prevent him from entering. Tamor heard her heartbeats as if it was ready to burst out of her chest, she wasn't ready to die. Auden needed Tamor, after all they were going to be stuck on this boat for quite some time and it was clear he didn't have another "toy". As if they were automatic her eyes started to water again, Tamor was now doing exactly what Auden wanted her to do and despite her unwillingness to admit maybe it was for the best.

Fire started pulsing around Auden's dripping wet body; controlling himself, he allowed just enough heat to speed dry his clothes. Sighing he thought of how to properly punish his new toy who clearly was ready for more fun after showing her defiant attitude. After about a minute his clothes had dried considerably and he pushed on the door, not surprised to feel weight behind it. "Tamor," he said calmly moving in closer to the door. "You have till the count of 5 to let me in.." Tamor planted her feet further out so that she could have more of her strength forced against the door.

"Five, four, three, two, one." At "one" a burst of air rushed through Auden, that aided his push as the door flung open with a dulled thud of Tamor falling to the ground, her nose bleeding. Stepping inside the room Auden closed the door, looking and activiating his privacy spell once again. He cracked his neck as he began to speak to Tamor. "So, you thought it was a good idea to reject my kindness Dwelf?" She scampered backwards, desperately trying to get away from him as he approached her. Fear was in her eyes, as well as a slight amount of defiance, as if she could just bare with long enough this she would be able to get out unphased, a look at excited Auden immensely. He paused infront of her for a moment, allowing her a chance to respond before he enacted his punishment on her.

A slight smile developed on his face as she refused to say anything. "At least you realise.." His right hand suddenly shot out grabbing her around the throat, lifting her up. "That you did something wrong." His grip tightened as she struggled to get away, to no avail. Catching her left hand he looked deeply into her eyes. "Let's not forget Tamor," his hand moving over hers, forcing all but her index finger to clench. "You need me to survive this." A crunching sound followed by a muffled scream filled the room, her struggling slowly down as she began to gasping for air. A smile was his reply as he tightened his grip around her neck and brought her middle finger up. Tears rolled down her face as another crunch sounded out. Letting go of her neck her body fell to the ground as she began to violently cough.

"S-sorry," Tamor croaked through her coughing fits as tears and blood running down her face.

***

It happened again and again, it was always when Tamor felt her absolute lowest like she had nothing else to live for. For some reason he never tried to persuade her against joining the other Knights but it still felt to her as if he had a leash on her. At nights she wandered the ship where she checked on how the other Knights were, she hoped she could make connections with them. She doubted that they even wanted to have anything to do with her since she was the pathetic, Tamor thought she didn't even deserve their attention. Sometimes she would just sit in a corner and whisper things that she clearly couldn't tell to the others to her only friend, Niolas, her hawk. Why hadn't she paid attention to her hawk's clear discomfort at the former mysterious man was a question she constantly asked herself day in and day out. Auden and her conversations were limited to small chit-chats it was made clear that Auden didn't like to talk about his past, which naturally was what Tamor was the most interested in. They slept in the same room but she refused to share the same bed as him and rightfully so he respected her decision.

The rest of the days aboard the ships seemed blurry they went by so fast Tamor couldn't recall the details to them. She remembered getting sick off of some food that some onboard sailor had given her and she had embarrassed herself by having retched all over the lower deck floors. Auden appeared more compassionate on those days as he made sure she got to her bed and was properly taken care of. Tamor felt as if they were getting closer, not intimately, but she was definitely getting used to his company. Often she felt disgusted at herself for even having the thought of considering someone who called her a "toy" a friend. She often wondered what he was thinking as he laid only a couple feet away from her. It was probably something complex, if only she had the chance to hear his thoughts but maybe a filtered version. Well, if she had one wish it would go to getting off the boat because she hated every minute that passed by on that vessel.

This trip was infinitly more bearable than the last for Auden, mainly due to the addition of his new toy Tamor. He had spent most nights indulging in his guitly pleasure, except for a few days when she had gotten sick and he had taken care of her; a sick toy being never fun to play with. The sun was beating down on his face as he thought back on the weeks that had passed, and a very interesting fact he had found out; Tamor was a divine mage who had healing magic, something that he'd definitely be taking advantage of when he tortured people other than her. The sound of seagulls broke his mind back to the present, a sign of land being close. "Land Ahoy!" Captain Crewe declared to the ship, reinforcing the fact that their time on the boat was finally coming to an end. Standing at the bow of the ship he could see the outline of the isolated Shingou nation quickly forming. As they drew closer to the land, the ship became busy as the sailors prepared for docking. Tamor joined Auden as the ship began to slow down to dock at the port. The sailors worked quickly as they anchored at the port, tying the ship down securely within 5 minutes of anchoring.

As everyone started to descend from the ship, Tamor stuck close to Auden, holding onto the side of his robe as if it was some kind of security blanket. Awaiting the Knights at a port was a very large crowd of people, which slightly confused Auden as he couldn't work out why so many people were gathered to greet them. At the head of the crowd was a man who were surrounded by soldiers, who had the armor of the rumoured "elites" of the Shingou nation. Why do we have elite soldiers here to greet us? The man who was clearly an important person on the island considering his guards stepped forward and greeted the Knights. Tamor noticed his robes and was glad that he had chosen to do a red over blue outfit instead of the other way around.
​

 

[Claire*]

Bofvar Blyr

The prior night, post bar fight, was all a blur. Everyone had gone their respective ways, off to do who knows what they were intending to do. As for Bofvar, he found the nearest inn, regardless of price or quality and immediately collapsed on the first available bed. Said bed was not where Bofvar woke, however. Somehow, he ended up on the floor, opposite where he had rested his head. His arm draped over his eyes, a futile attempt to keep out the sunlight that began bleeding into his room, he raised himself with an obvious moan of annoyance. Grasping his head firmly between his hands, he waited for the room to stop spinning before he even attempted to stand. The Lion's roar took a bit more out of him than he thought. That, or the vixen from the alley had done quite the number with her headbutt. He had fallen asleep thinking of her and woke with the same thought. It was the mystery of her that enraptured him, not infatuation. Never having seen her in his life, it was a total conundrum as to why she so desired the challenge of him in battle. Deciding it was not worth dwelling on, he pulled on his trousers and shirt, not even remembering when or how he got naked in the first place.

Aside from these, admittedly, not wholly abnormal circumstances, everything seemed to be in order, until he reached for his coin purse. Lifting it from his belt loop, it immediately struck him as to its weight and not in a good way. Hastily untying the small bag, he peered inside and noticed a piece of paper that had never been there before. Setting it aside, he went about counting the coins held within. After a few minutes of counting and recounting, he safely came to the conclusion that two coins had indeed been removed from his tally. His first assumption was to early payment for the room, but he rarely ever did such a thing. Remembering the paper that he had set aside, he carefully unfolded it and read the message aloud.

"Hello there, short stuff," Bofvar paused and tried to stifle a groan, the insult meaning nothing to him anymore after all these years. "Just wanted to say thank you for last night. I found you to be most compliant with my demands. Then again, I attribute that to drink. I guess you were the one who ended up 'paying dearly'. Thanks again, -E-." Having finished the note, as mad as he was, Bofvar couldn't help but smile. Sure, the woman had followed him, disrobed him and stolen from him, but he could respect that. That girl had gumption. On the off chance he ever ran into her again, he'd give her a piece of his mind and maybe something else, Gods willing. Folding up the note and returning it to his bag, he finished getting his armor on and running last checks of his equipment.

Happy that everything was in order, he left the room and descended the stairs of the inn. Quickly settling his debt with the keep, he strode out into the disgusting, filth covered streets. All things considered, it seemed a bit more cheerful today. Or, maybe he was just a bit more sober. Either way, it was an interesting start to the morning.

It didn't take long to reach the gathering point. Without even realizing it, he had coincidentally picked an inn that just about neighbored where they were supposed to meet. Varian, Xeye and the client had already arrived, most likely waiting patiently for the rest to arrive. How good of them to arrive early. Had it not been for the rising sun and draft that ran across his nether region, Bofvar probably wouldn't have been here when he was.

"Oi!" He shouted in greeting, a bigger than usual smile plastered on his face. "Good to see you two up and out, especially you, milady." Bofvar nodded in Xeye's direction. "So, where be the rest of our sorry lot?"​

 

[Skymin]

>> AVA
>> The Broken Keg, Dalenham, Eveamoor
The fighting in the bar soon felt a little too out of control, which felt like an indicator to leave the dump. There was a loud crash and Avangeline turned to find Cass jumping out of the front window. Varian yelled something about leaving and Avangeline pouted as the man followed his partner out. Leave? Already? The fight had barely begun! Ah well, another time maybe.

"Nem!" she called, putting her hands in her mouth to blow a loud whistle. Her direwolf jumped up and bounded over a few patrons, following his master's beckon and gracefully jumping out of the window. Avangeline bowed before she followed her wolf, waving to the fight. "Thank-you for the memories! They were great!"

Some of the others were outside, but not for very long. After a few snaps from Varian, he left with Cass, leaving Xeye and Avangeline alone. Of course, Xeye, the child, bounded back into the fight to set things on fire. Silly, what was the point of fire? What happens if the Broken Keg burned down? The poor bartender! He probably paid... no, the place was a dump and probably came cheap. Still... Oh well. Avangeline, choosing not to become involved with Xeye's shenanigans, walked away with her direwolf.

Should they go shopping? Go eating? Perhaps find an inn to sleep in? The night was very much still young!

"Should we paint the town red, Nem?"

* * *​

Avangeline rose early the next morning, gathering her things for a quick checkout. She waved goodbye to the innkeeper, plopping a few bronze pieces on the desk as a nice tip. The innkeeper was thankful, bowing as the half-elf left.

"First stop, that blacksmith!"

It was only up the road. Avangeline had left her shoulder plates to be repaired last night and the blacksmith said he would only take a night to repair them. Plus, Avangeline had business with that Miracyian bow and arrow set.

"Good morning!" she called to the blacksmith. The young man looked up from his work. He was quite attractive, especially for someone who lived in Dalenham. He wasn't the same man who had served her yesterday, who had been an older man. He was nice, but not nice to look at. This man though had a familiar feeling about him. It was comforting.

"And to you, miss," he replied politely. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello, I was here last night about my shoulder plates."

"Ah, yes. The young woman with the direwolf. Hold on, I'll go get it," he tore himself away from the shield he was decorating and went behind the counter to pull out the plates. They were like new again! Not only that, they had new indents and decorations surrounding the edges. Feathers? That was the trademark of...

"Sorry, I got a little carried away," he laughed. There was something all too familiar about his tone of voice. "I hope it's not too much, and I don't expect anything extra."

"Are you Falkan?"

"I am!" he beamed, as if Avangeline had commented on how nice the colour of his hair was. "Are... you?"

"Yes, it's nice to hear a voice that sounds like home," Avangeline smiled back. "It's been too long."

"And to you!" he bowed his head politely. "Even your pretty face brings back memories of the streets of Falcon Peak. It gives me great honour to serve a fellow falcon."

"Well," Avangeline began, choosing to word her sentence in Falkmor instead of the common tongue. "Perhaps you can help me with more, if you would be so kind. See, I'm very much interested in purchasing the Miracyian bow and arrow you have and perhaps we can come to an agreement of sorts."

"Your Falkmor is very formal," the blacksmith replied, also speaking in their own tongue. "I guess you were not raised in anything lower than the high district."

"Please, we can speak of home later."

"I apologise," he bowed his head again and stood up, heading over to the window where the bow was. "The Miracyian bow and arrow set! Crafted by the elves and from the tall trees of Miracyia. Very high quality and it's meant to be enchanted with all kinds of elven wards. It's currently fetching eight silver."

"Eight silver? Hmm... That's quite a lot for a bow and arrow set."

"I assure you that it's worth every piece."

"And I can assure you," Avangeline tapped her lip, "that I could purchase a similar style of bow, fit with similar enchantments for less than a quarter of this set. I understand the Miracyians do not release weaponry to outsiders very often. How are you sure the charms are still in effect?"

The boy pulled the bow and arrow set off its stand, showing Avangeline letters that had been carefully carved into the wood.

"These are Eldaquente runes, which bring the user protection. I've been told that it says 'safeguard'," they were indeed in Eldaquente, as Avangeline could still read it from her mother's teachings. Safeguard was a good translation, though its literal translation looked like safety wall. Though, as far as she could see in this boy, he was just an apprentice or new blacksmith from Falke. He looked like no expert on elves or their culture. So it was time for the good old Avangeline charm.

"Who told you this?"

"The man who sold it to us. He was an elf himself."

"And did he also tell you all the other information you told me?"

"Indeed."

"Well, I am sorry to say that you have been decieved, my fellow falcon," Avangeline slowly shook her head. "See, these Eldaquente runes are not legitimate. The markings are sloppy and poorly written. If there are guards on it, if none at all, they would be weak and useless. And the wood is from Miracyian, but I suspect it was stolen from the edge of the woods and carved by human hands. The elves would never shape a bow like this. They are never uneven, always perfectly symmetrical."

The boy made a face, seemingly sceptic of her. She answered his question by brushing her hair back, revealing the points at the ends of her ears.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes. I am from Falke but my mother is an elf. I studied under her. I know what I am speaking of. I would price this... perhaps three silver. Four would be generous," Avangeline shook her head sadly. The boy stepped back sighing. He seemed a little upset with himself, staring at the bow and arrow set in his hands.

"Listen," Avangeline put a hand on his shoulder, "I am still looking for a bow and arrow set. You look like your mother has just died, so I will save you some grief. I will purchase this set and pay for my repairs and give you... five silver. How does that sound?"

The boy looked up at her. Though attractive, he was younger and shorter than Avangeline. Perhaps almost twenty. She almost wanted to pat his soft hair.

"Would you be that kind, miss?"

"Indeed. You have made my shoulder plates beautiful. I will pay for your kindness."

The boy nodded with a smile, pulling the bow and arrow set off its stand and taking it over to the counter where the shoulder plates lay. Avangeline took out five silver pieces out of her purse and handing it to the boy. The boy took them and graciously handed over her purchases.

"Thank you kindly," she said, bowing her head.

"No, thank-you, miss. Until we see eachother again," he returned the bow and Avangeline left the store, Nem following, pulling her shoulder plates and her new bow and arrow set on.

Another salesman successfully decieved and another deal successfully made. Avangeline was a goddess. Or an evil witch. Whatever.

She quickly grabbed something to eat (some bread for her and her wolf) and dawdled off to their rendezvous point. Awaiting for her at the gates of Dalenham were Varian, Xeye, Bofvar and the 'merchant' who had given them their mission. At least she wasn't the last person. Where was Cass and Evelynn and Alys?

"Good mornin- oh," she rubbed her lips. She was still speaking Falkmor. Oops. She switched her brain back to common tongue. "Good morning, companions! How are we this morning?"​

 

[Swolligator]

Victoria "Alys" Taimor – Dalenham

Once everyone had made it out of the tavern alive, some even running back in to stir up more of a ruckus, Varian signalled for everyone to break up. If they were to meet up tomorrow morning at the gates, then that gave Alys plenty of time to explore Dalenham; not that there was much to offer save for the markets.

A fluttering caught her attention as a pair of talons sunk into the hard leather hide of her shoulder plate. "Castiel!" Alys called as the Falcon squawked on her shoulder. Reaching up, she gentle scratched the bird's neck by the shoulder blade.

Alys had only met Castiel a couple of years ago, and the bird was already full sized. Alys had helped exterminate an infestation of fire-ferrets on a farm in the lower regions of Falke. She had gotten more than a couple of burns, but nothing major and in thanks, the man taught her how to train Falcons; eventually gifting one to her in thanks.

For now, Alys cruised through the night markets of Dalenham, beautifully lit by the many different coloured lanterns that lay strung between the fronts of shops. The night markets were perhaps more extravagant than the markets during the day; often selling rare, exquisite and more… dangerous goods. As she walked past each shop, she took a look at the goods on offer; slabs of meat for a couple of copper, weapons ranging in differing prices in silver and even rare jewels and relics said to have come from the far-flung shores of Shinguo.

Finally, she came across a fletcher's shop selling various arrangements of bows, arrows and sets. She huddled inside as the shopkeeper gave a wary eye to the Falcon atop her shoulder.

"Good Evening, Sister, how may I help you this evening?" The man's voice was thick with the Ethorian dialect, reminding Alys of the man she had been arranged to marry.

"Evening, Fletcher. I am after a quiver of arrows; full quiver with a selection of tips and shafts." Alys concentrated on keeping up her Raelusian accent, even though those couple of ale's fought to throw her accent off.

"Ah, I see," he exclaimed excitedly, pulling half a dozen arrows out of crates from behind him muttering like a fool, "Falken wood….Ethora Stingray Barb…. Raelusian Pyro Weed…."

Within a couple of minutes he lay a quiver of arrows on the bench; all ranging in different pairings of shafts and heads. Alys was amazed at the selection he now had on offer for her, "how much?"

"Fourteen Silver."

"FOURTEEN?!?!!? That's murder!" she exclaimed harshly, even Castiel squawked angrily at the shopkeeper.

"You said you wanted a range; this is the widest range possible. These materials aren't cheap though."

"I still refuse to pay Fourteen Silver for that selection."

"Then what are you after?" A cool voice washed over her shoulder as another man joined the tent.

"Who do you think you are?" She turned around and her heart skipped a beat.

Handsome, muscular and red as a forge, the man's accent and height all shouted Highman, yet his suave looks and rather cool voice sounded like he was from a class higher than a mere forger. "Get out of here, Highman, this is my customer." The shopkeeper growled.

"I have a forge by the gate, come at dawn and I will have a quiver ready and suited towards you. Two Silver."

Alys looked into the man's soft gaze and tried to shake his domineering attitude as it washed over her. "Alright then." She stormed off, not wanting to fall for the man's suave nor charm. Finding a tavern close by that allowed pets, she settle in for the night knowing that it was an early morning on the horizon.

XXXXX

Bow slung, boots belted and Castiel on her shoulder, Alys was ready to hit the road on the way to this new job they had been offered last night. On her way she would make a pass by this Highman's forge and see what kind of arrows he had picked out for her. As much as she tried to tell herself she would not fall for her charms, just remembering the events of last night made her weak at the knees. She had left the Golden Islands because men thought they could control her, and she was playing right into the hands of one.

"Vanaheim Crystal Ice, Mindirion Air Steel, Direwolf Tooth, Falken Sky Hawke Talon and Dergen whistling arrow heads, all on an array of Vanaheim Snow Pine, Falken Oak and Ethoran Elm wood shafts ending in Falken Sky Hawke feathers. This quiver is all about speed and slash. Judging by your height and weight, lighter arrows are your forte; and your best friend. It's all about striking your opponent quickly rather than forcefully. For two Silver, what do you think?"

Alys was shocked; she hadn't expected this kind of treatment not to mention range of arrows that he offered. Weighing them, they felt a lot lighter than the stock standard arrows she had been using so far and even the tips were of impeccable craftsmanship. "I'll take it, but why?"

"You look nothing like any Raelusian girl I've ever seen. Plus, a girl with mystery is hard to come by these days. They either play up in the castle walls or in the fields of mud."

Paying the man and thanking him, she quickly left his forge, walking briskly to the gate only a short walk away. He had definitely been flirting with her and while flattered, she had no time to worry about relationships. There was a job available.

Quiver slung over her shoulder, she approached the group noticing the half-elf, Ava, with a bow strapped over her shoulder. "Nice bow there, a little typical don't you think? An elf with a bow?" Alys took the laugh before noticing the Direwolf growling by Ava's side.​

 

[Xlugon Pyro]

XEYE ANASTASIA ZXKOL​

THE BLUE WILDCAT​

"Oi!" a gruff voice bellows from behind the perky half-elf.

Her eyes spot the culprit; a short man with a beard and one of their group. "Good to see you two up and out, especially you, milady."

Xeye waves frantically towards the stunted fellow, shouting cheerfully, "Oh, hi Furface! Are you ready to go? Yeah?"

However, the crowd around them soon grows as two of the other ladies of the gang assemble, first being Puppy Lady and the next one being Bow Lady. The Puppy Lady makes her entrance first though, greeting the assembling crew.

"Good morning, companions! How are we this morning?" she states, her dire wolf by her side.

"Hi Puppy Lady! You ready to kick some butt!?" Xeye beams towards the fellow half-elf, grinning jubilantly while reaching her hand high into the air to greet the woman.

"Heheh, yay adventure!" Xeye yells excitedly, anticipating the work they'll soon set out to do.​

 

[SV]

Roland Grey- Duānkǒu, Shinguo

"Twelve days..." Roland began to utter as he adjusted his bright, steel armor in preparation for their docking in Shinguo. "Twelve days on this Gods-forsaken piece of rubbish you southerners pass as a ship. Tella be praised with her gift of the earth, for I have long grown tired of these waters." He hissed, glorifying the sight of land, not particular on the location.

He had only ever once been to Shinguo before then. It was back when he was a squire, and was sent to the foreign, strange lands as an apprentice. This was before the darker times, before the assassination of the Ethorian King Eliwood, and the collapse of negotiations with Vanaheim and Falke. Those times seemed like a dream now, as if they never actually occurred, perhaps a tale now from an old book of myths. Although to be fair, it wasn't as if those times were perfect to begin with. Aerion has had its share of problems long before. The difference between then and now is that in those times, the problems of the world seemed reparable. Now, the deterioration of the world had reached a point that occasionally made Roland wonder if the next day would be his last.

Roland walked off of the ship, admiring the landscape of the nostalgic land. Even if it had been so long, it did not look all that different. There was a peculiar combination of serenity and mystery about this land that he had felt the last time he was here, and so again this time. His eyes fixated on the man who had greeted him, along with his posse of sentries. He wore an outfit that seemed to indicate his importance, but he still had enough humility to greet them with a bow, though that was probably a custom of the land. Roland was not sure. It was a while since he was last here, after all, and although the land may have been wondrous, he didn't quite find it all that important enough to remember.

"I assume you are the 'friend' the monks spoke of." Roland said to the man, who raised himself from his bow to meet the gaze of the knight from Ethora.
"Indeed, Ser Knight." The man answered, his accent thick with the stain of Shinguo in him. "I am Yoshuro, royal advisor to Taiki Okane, Emperor of Shinguo. I am here to provide you council, and direction."

"You greet us with quite a large number of your bodyguards." Roland noted.

"Ah. I apologize for this manner by which you are greeted. I assure you it is merely for appearances. Both for myself and you. You see, it is not often that we receive foreign visitors, especially ones so well-armed. And it is not often that the people of Shinguo would see me traveling without the necessary security arrangements, especially to meet such foreigners. I promise you that for the purpose of maintaining the rouse of secrecy as well as the appearance of normality, this is the best course."

Roland glanced across the group of Shinguo elite guards, their faces hidden behind the traditional masks of their uniform, but he seemed to accept the reasoning the man known as Yoshuro gave. "So, you have some knowledge about a shard of Ard-"

"Hold!" Yoshuro exclaimed, holding a hand up to obstruct Roland from finishing his sentence. Yoshuro eyed the green plains of the countryside, examining it as if to see if they were being watched. "It would be best if we were to speak of this in my estate here in Duānkǒu, where our conversations are shielded. If you would, follow me to my estate. It is not far."

As Yoshuro had said, the walk to his estate was a short one. His residence was by far the largest and most easily noticeable of all of the homes in Duānkǒu. Rather it was more of a mansion among shacks, something that obviously didn't fit with the serene environment it was placed in. In fact, Roland felt that way about the man in general. Where the port town appeared more as a minor fishing village, Yoshuro seemed bred for the city life, where he was probably daily pampered and spoiled, wearing the finest clothes the lands had to offer, and eating the rarest of delicacies. He seemed a connoisseur of all items of rich value. Roland did not doubt that even as they approached his estate, this was likely not even his primary place of residence.

The mansion was decorated with engraved silver and gold, with the front gate guarded by statues of bright, golden mythical beasts (along with the Shinguo elite guarding beside them). All around was a fence thrice the size of any man, with sharp edges at the end to keep the townfolk at bay. Roland was certain with the combination of guards and fortification, they would have their conversations 'shielded', as Yoshuro put it. But Roland couldn't help but wonder from whom exactly they were hiding it from to begin with. The monks mentioned 'nefarious groups', if he recalled correctly. The origin of which, he did not know. But he reckoned he would soon find out.

As Yoshuro led them inside, Roland found the interior of the mansion to be just as majestic as the outside, if not more so. Tapestries, paintings, and rare art were hung from the walls. The finest linen decorated the ceilings and windows, and suspended from the ceilings in each room were chandeliers, every one of intricate and unique design, and as Roland noted, none of them being the same.

They were led from this room into an adjacent one on the side. Yoshuro motioned for the guards inside the home to depart from the room they now stood in, what appeared to be a library of sorts, where resided a collection of books and scrolls that, while did not quite match the magnificent one of the monks, did come close to its size and wealth of knowledge. Yoshuro walked over to the door which led to this room, and closed it shut, the knights all gathered inside. He locked it, and then wandered over to a desk which was located in the middle of the room. A few open books lay there, though he did not seem interested in them at the moment. The man stood behind the desk, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed upon each of the knights, examining their features in preparation of addressing them.

"I will skip right to business. It is how I have always done things. Have any of ever heard of the...oh how you would say it in your tongue...The Dragon Stone?" Yoshuro said as he made eye contact with each of the individuals before him. It didn't take long for one of them to respond. With some frustration.

"I didn't come hear to talk of some Dragon Stone. We are here for the Orb of Ardo-" Roland said with a powerful roar, before being pulled back by his brother, Percival, who had kept to himself ever since the departure from Ekilore.

"If my memory serves me correctly, none of my fellow men and women here are from your esteemed country of Shingou nor do any of homelands have extensive knowledge of Shingou, leaving us at a loss of words concerning most of your history. However, I have spent some time with merchants and nobles who spent time within your borders and I have heard of this artifact. This "Dragon Stone" as you call it, was it not held by a hero of sorts and responsible for Shingou's rise to prominence?" Percival interjected, showing some of his knowledge gained as a member of Robert Welm's court.

"You have more knowledge that I would've given any of you credit for," Yoshuro said with a noticeable widening of his eyes. "You are..."

"Percival, milord."

"Well, Percival. You are partially correct about the Dragon Stone. Generations ago or so the stories go, a young traveling wizard had come across a stone and gained immeasurable power. It was said he could create anything from nothing. At the time, Shingou was experiencing great hardships such as famine and disease. The country was at a breaking point and a civil war was all but guaranteed. But then, miracles were appearing left and right. Suddenly, fields were overflowing with crops and the people were healthy. Tensions gradually eased and the uprisings were calmed. The savior of Shingou was the young wizard and he was heralded as a hero. He decided to continue his good work across Shingou and aided the people whenever he could, using his gifts as a charity. In his old age, he took an apprentice with the hopes his student would continue his good works."

"Let me guess," Roland said. "He didn't."

"How astute, but not the whole truth. At first the student was filled with great promise and served the aging hero with great enthusiasm. However, the powers he had learned and further amplified with the Dragon Stone corrupted the young apprentice. In his prideful recklessness and greed, he took the stone for himself and killed his master. Using the stone he terrorized the land, summoning monsters to do his bidding and eventually taking the throne of Shingou for himself. Luckily for the people of Shingou, his tyrannical reign was brief and he was successfully overthrown by a group of upstart rebels led by a young lord."

"What happened then?" Percival asked, fully captivated by the story.

Yoshuro walked from around the table, grabbing a book on his way before continuing his story: "The freshly defeated apprentice was sealed away in a a believed to be abandoned temple in the mountains to the north. The stone was sealed with him as it was believed to be too dangerous for lesser men to possess."

"So what? What does the Dragon Stone have to do with anything?" Roland was clearly getting angry. The story had dragged on for long enough.

"You must be Roland. I have heard about you. Well Ser Roland, it so happens that the Dragon Stone is in fact a shard of the Orb of Ardor," Yoshuro said with a grin revealing a artistic recreation of the Dragon Stone. It was a red shard, clearly broken off from a larger work. Percival nodded his head, agreeing with Yoshuro's sentiments.

"I take it that we are tasked with entering the sealed temple and reclaiming the shard," Percival said. "Sound easy enough."

"Don't be so naive," Roland said. "No doubt there is something stirring to make it far more complicated than that."

"I wish Lord Percival was correct, but indeed you, Ser Roland, are in the right. Since being sealed, the student had earned a new...legend. And with it, a new name: The Necromancer. The Ryuuse mountains have since them been cursed. Monsters, particularly undead manifestations roam the mountains, often terrorizing the northern villages. It is a common belief, almost a myth now, that the Necromancer is at the heart of the problem and uses the Dragon Stone to power his dark magic. If you truly wish to claim the Dragon Stone or the shard of the Orb of Ardor if you prefer, you will have to find the temple, cleanse it and defeat the Necromancer. Do that and you will have not only the shard, but a legacy in the land of Shingou. Of that, I can promise."

 

[Legend]

Cassandra "Cass" Alexandera- Dalenham, Eveamoor

"Mhmm…five more minutes…" Cass mumbled under her beer ridden breath as she rolled from side to side trying to find the position that let her lull to sleep easily the night before. With a frustrated growl, Cass sat up as her eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the morning light. The light was much stronger than she expected and a more sober Cass would swear that her eyes were playing tricks on her like an elven thief. From her little outlet that only a fool would consider a bed, Cass could see the not so breathtaking city of Dalenham, with its low wooden rooftops, cobblestone streets and calming lack of crowds that roamed the streets in the morning. Cass staggered to her feet, shifting her balance from foot to foot as she attempted to gather herself. However, her body was limp and weakly wobbled around, and her head felt heavy. Her vision blurred and Cass slipped in a moment of weakness and she tumbled from the rooftop and crashed onto the ground with a thunderous thump.

"Not bad, Cass…not bad," Cass groaned in pain, picking herself up to a chorus of loud cracks as her joints realigned themselves. The fall seemed to knock most of the hangover out of her system, but she still felt groggy when she returned to her feet. Cass had fallen from what appeared to be a generic home of one of the richer members of Dalenham, and it remained a mystery of how she found herself perched upon the rooftop of the home. In fact, the last thing she remembered was drinking with Varian before barging out to find some companionship after Varian ditched her for some other broad. She really needed to stop drinking and put to an end to nights like that.

Regardless of whys and hows, she needed to find a way back to the city gates as there was little doubt as to the fact that once again, Cass was late to the party. She looked around, holding her throbbing head. Cass was in the city square, in a courtyard of sorts. At the center was a fountain, with several streams of clear water falling into the body of water at the bottom. At the top of this fountain was a marble statue of the current queen of Eveamoor, Madelaine Elizabeth Robertson, also known as "The Sky Queen." Elected about ten years ago, she quickly rose to prominence as a venerable and popular queen (in spite of her eccentric and whimsical character traits), which was much needed after the series of forgettable rulers that preceded her. However, she has done little to truly bring Eveamoor up to the level of its neighboring countries, which still intimidate and chide the young kingdom. Nevertheless, the people love their Sky Queen and have appealed to her artistic nature with the statue built at the center of the capital city. It was the first time Cass ever saw the display of masterful craftsmanship (though she couldn't tell if the likeness was at all faithfully represented), her attention was more drawn at the crown atop the statue's end. A single gem was embedded on the front of the crown and it glistened in the morning sun like a star in the night sky.

"That's Eveamoor for you. Always doing strange crap," said Cass the all knowing critic as she stumbled away, reminders of the last night of drinking slurring her speech and her gait. The streets were clear enough to make Cass' walk as easy as possible, but the lack of urban planning of Dalenham made the same journey longer than she would of liked. Soon enough, Cass found the city gates and to her satisfaction, her drunken prediction of being late was not without fail. Anybody who was anybody was there.

"Good job, everyone. You made it all on time," Cass said as she slowly shuffled her way to Varian's side. "Honey~ you left me all alone again. You big mean Highman!" Cass said, slugging Varian on the arm. After teasing her long time friend, she turned to the others. "Are we missing anyone or can we raid a baker real quick before heading out? I'm kind of hungry after all that action yesterday."

 

[Miss Doronjo]

Evelynn
Gates of Dalenham, Eveamoor

T'was only yesterday where Eve was acquainted with her future allies, only to lead to a job right near her present location. Yesterday was also the great bar fight, where Eve first thought it was quite uncooth of her to evoke on a fruitless task of slugging with her fellow man, that was until, someone had accidently topped her strawberry cake, which in turn, made her furious enough to slug the first man she saw. That was quite the fest.

The gates of Dalenham was as she remembered. Her father took her here occasionally from the age of 7. Its gates were as strong as the steel weapon that she held, but as free and accepting as birds to the sky. When she finally broke the news to her father, her father was quite pleased that she had finally taken her tasks seriously. Or at least, serious enough.

"Oh, sweet potatos love me, potatos love me~" Eve started to sing. Along side dancing, singing was her habit whenever she traveled. She didn't know why, but it was a habit, nonetheless. "As the grass grows, the oranges blows its scent of divinity~" Of course, as signing, she at least remembered where she was supposed to go. It was then that she saw them -- some her faithful colleges just around the corner.

"Hold on there, good morrow my friends! Evelynn has finally joined the party," Eve addressed with her signature spin. "I hope the night for each of you was as joyous as my dancing: true, and delightful. I do apologize for my recent dissaperence at the bar. While the fighting was uncooth of me, I was not about to let a sweet delight of Evelynns get crushed in vain. Eve takes pride on the sweets you eat, you see. So I did the unfortunate task of hitting a man on his Adam's Apple. Out of love for my sweet, of course."​

 

[SV]

Varian Sigmund- Gates of Dalenham, Eveamoor

Varian crossed his arms as he awaited the arrival of the rest of his group. He wasn't certain which of them would join him and which would decide to depart, although he had some suspicions based on what he knew. In truth, he expected less than half of them to show up, and he accounted for that. The job didn't seem like they would need the entire group anyway. Surprisingly, the first person to arrive was Xeye, screaming her lungs out as she scrambled towards the two of them waving her arms around with her seemingly endless abundance of energy. Varian had actually thought she would be one of the ones who would decide not to join them. First surprise of the day. There was bound to be more. He greeted her with his customary cold stare and a nod of the head, though nothing much beyond that. Xeye took her energy to the merchant, who gazed at her through his hood, examining her as if she was an oddity (which he probably thought she was), gawking at the whole of her body.

"Umm, yes." He finally articulated. "I am here to dispense the funding and relay any other information to yourself and your group, once the rest of them appear. Speaking of which, how many more are we expecting, sir…?"

"Sigmund. Varian Sigmund." Varian replied without looking at the merchant, but rather to the interior of the city as he scouted for the rest of the troop. "And should be a few more."

"I assume that all of the individuals you've selected are in fact capable fighters. Am I correct?" The merchant said, eyeing Xeye once more. "I wouldn't want to sending any of them into danger."

Varian snorted. He knew what the man was really asking. He wasn't concerned about the well-being of his mercenaries, but rather the welfare of his pockets. He wanted to accomplish the job with as little muscle needed as possible, as the merchant agreed to pay 70 silver to each of them. Even in the situation of his daughter's life hanging in the balance, the merchant still sought to be as frugal as possible. Yep, it was safe to say Varian was beginning to like the man. "Don't worry about them. They all know what they're doing."

The merchant nodded, and the three awaited the arrival of the others, which soon occurred as Bofvar the dwarf made his way to them. "So, where be the rest of our sorry lot?" He asked.

Varian didn't much answer, but rather greeted him with the same cold stare and solemn nod of the head he had given Xeye. Soon after, Ava arrived with her dire wolf. Varian gave the same cold stare and nod, as if he were a machine programmed to do the same thing each time a new member had appeared. He did give a few extra glances to the wolf, which reminded him of an event from his past. The memory lasted mere moments in Varian's mind, as Alys soon came, apparently with some additional equipment on hand. He listened for a moment as the ladies interacted with each other. It seemed that they all relatively got along with each other, which was good in his opinion. Not that he cared personally if they liked each other, but usually getting along in this way might be a good indication of whether or not they would work well together on the battlefield. Xeye also seemed intent on causing as much noise as possible, and giving everyone strange nicknames related to something about them. Varian was now Wolf Pops. Bofvar was Furface, Ava was Puppy Lady, and Alys was Bow Lady. Varian hoped she wouldn't be this noisy on the battlefield. He imagined she wouldn't, as he got no complaints from anyone in their first job in Sabamin, although they mostly worked separately on that one.

Still, Varian knew that the persona one had in battle occasionally was in contrast to the one they wore outside of it. It was in his belief that one's true persona was the one they carried in war, or when death was upon them. That was one reason he disliked speaking to people much. To him, it seemed inconsequential. It was also a reason he didn't dismiss any of these individuals when they first signed up for the group. Whether he adored them or disdained them as individuals was unimportant. He would get to know all of them in his own way soon enough.

As he waited for the arrival of the rest of the group, Varian decided in his mind that the appearance of Cass would be the signaling to move out. Cass typically arrived late to begin with, so once she was here, it likely meant anyone else was either not coming, or incapable of coming. Either way, they would move out then.

It didn't take long for Cassandra to stumble toward the group and Varian, being her usual self. He rolled his eyes at her antics, yelling back at her. "Woman, if you wanted to eat, you should have done so before you got here!" He reached for something in his back, pulling out a loaf of bread, and shoving it into her mouth. The merchant looked at the interaction between the two of them as if they were an oddity. Varian looked at the merchant now. "Well, I guess that's the lot of them. So, to business?"

The merchant nodded, reaching into his own bag for a rather large sack, from the sound of the shingling Varian was certain was payment, and a marked map of Eveamoor. "Very well. First, the matter of payment." He said, reaching into the large sack and pulled out a smaller sack from it. Varian was able to peer into the large sack and see a bundle of identical sacks in the larger one. The merchant handed the small sack to Varian. "If you would, inspect the contents of the sack, sir." He articulated to the Highman, who grabbed the sack from the merchant peered inside. Within it, he saw a bundle of shining silver pieces, the promised individual pay for the completion of the job.

"I'd say there is about 35 pieces in here." Varian declared.

"Half the individual pay." The merchant confirmed, distributing the smaller sacks to each of the other mercenaries. "To each of you, 35 pieces of silver handed out now, and the remaining 35, as well as the 200 surplus, to be given out once my daughter has been returned to me." Varian counted the coins once more to confirm the amount, before looking up to the merchant and nodding his head. The merchant returned the nod, and opened up the map he had with him. "If you would, good Sers, gather around." Varian obliged him, walking up next to the merchant and squatting down to look at the open map. It was a rather detailed map of Eveamoor, marked up with certain important cities and locations, as well as landmarks and trade routes. "Here we have our current location at Dalenham." He pointed with one of his large, sausage-like fingers. "Over here is Curilan." He said, his finger moving north to point to the city on the map. The fort is about four kilometers west of the city. It was once a heralded fortress under the control of the Eveamoorian government, but as the economy declined, many forts like this one were abandoned because of the impracticality of maintaining them."

"How many men are we expecting inside?" Varian asked the merchant. Even through the hood, he could see the man's anxiety rising as he answered the Highman.

"About twenty, maybe as many as thirty." He said, watching the expressions on the faces of the mercenaries to see how they would react. Varian didn't give much of a facial reaction, but followed with an additional question. "Anything special about these bandits? Do they have an affiliation or benefactor?"

"To my knowledge, they are simply a group of brigands from around the area. Nothing remotely special about them, as far as I hear. The only problem is their number, and fortification."

Varian examined the map once more, before standing up. "Alright. We'll get it done."

The merchant also rose to meet his gaze, beaming at him. "Excellent! I cannot thank you enough, Sers. Here." He said, handing the marked map to Varian. "I've taken the liberty to mark another area on the map, on the outskirts of Curilan. When the job is complete, proceed to the inn there, known as the 'Strutting Stag'. I will be awaiting your arrival with the remainder of the payment, in full." The merchant gave the group a bow of his head. "Good luck, and may the Nine watch over you." Varian nodded his head, and watched as the merchant strode over to his horse, struggling a bit from his weight to mount it, before finally succeeding. He gave the mercenaries a slight bow of his head, and rode off to the north. Varian put the map away into his bag, and gazed upon his group, checking to see if they were all ready to go. He didn't want to say anything in front of the merchant, mostly because he didn't want the man to go back on his word after realizing the ludicrousness of his sum he offered. But at the very least, he knew (and any of these other mercenaries that have been long enough in the business) that if what the merchant said was true, they were about to receive comically high payment for minimal work.

"Right." Varian began, scratching an itch that resided on his shoulder, before realizing it was the site of a cut he had received the previous day, jumping out of the window. He faced the group, crossing his arms. "Seems fairly straightforward. We go in, clear out the fort, and rescue the daughter of the fat one. Before we move out though, I've got a few words to say, since this will be our first job as a group. The Sabamin orcs don't count. We operated separately, and I was mostly intent on see if you could handle yourself." Varian eyed each of them with his habitual cold gaze of his eyes, the kind that made men think he was always in a bad mood, though that was his habitual look. "Now, we are a team. I care not what opinions you reserve for each other, nor do I care of your opinions of me. I care not what you fight for, be it gold, gods, guidance, or glory. Nor do I care where you hail from. When we carry out a job, we will watch each other's backs, and we will work together. We won't charge ahead shouting of foolish pursuits of glory and honor, especially if it were to endanger one of the others in the team. Likewise we won't do stupid, reckless stunts unless it is necessary. The job is the most important thing, followed by the team. Everything else is trivial. Should you work together and follow my lead, everything will go smoothly. If not, you can tell your gods I said hello."

"If you've got any inquiries, now is the time. If not, we'll be off. There's work to be done."