Fantasy Aether: The Age of Light

[Avari]

Aether: The Age of Light RP


Posting Rules
For the purposes of the RP, there will be a post framework that I would like everyone to follow for consistency. It's pretty simple -

Name: Grand Cleric Lucina
Location: Alcamoth: The Grand Chapel of Alcamoth
Time: Day 1- 9AM

Boring stuff:
Time is very important for avoiding confusion and ensuring characters don't get ahead of each other. For this RP, time will be broken down into chunks as there will be a main post by myself every three hours of In-RP time. (So 9am -> 12PM -> 3PM etc) please make sure you're never more than three hours ahead of the curve. You don't need to post if you don't need to, if for example you have a reason why your character won't be active til late night. If you're worried, simply post in the OOC. If you're having a conversation with another player character, I highly recommend using Pirate Pad to write it together and then posting it in a single chunk - that way everyone doesn't have to wait three days while you finish having a chat. If you're making a new location, give it a decent description and I'll add it to the lore page. If you're worried about something, I'm always around.

The prologue has details below, but is a two day warm up period for everyone to settle in and enjoy themselves without getting to worried about any big ol' plot devices banging on the door. Should take a week or two I expect. Rules and times may be adjusted as we go. Aether is a slow burn RP, don't expect any world changing events yet as it'll be a gradual build to ensure everyone has a chance to firmly establish their goals and roles without the main story stamping all over it.

And remember:
1) Actions have consequence
2) Keep it realistic...ish.
3) Have fun ahoyhoy

Please remember to keep posts at a decent length and keep grammar at a good standard. THANKKKKKSSS

Links:
OOC
Character Sheets
Location Guide
Lore Guide
Pirate Pad

Please don't post until I make the first post for Lucina. We're still waiting for one final character submission.

 

[Avari]

Upcoming events: The Royal Wedding (2 DAYS TIME)
Available Expeditions: None
Location: The Capital City of Aether - Alcamoth.

Prologue

The great city of Alcamoth is preparing for a celebration! In two days, two great noble families will be joining their houses and a new age of prosperity and stability will spread throughout the land. King Ariandel Astora is much loved by the common folk thanks to his handsome features and easy going attitude - while he’s young, he’s quickly proven himself a caring King, if perhaps a little unenthusiastic for his role as head of state. His betrothed is Sumia Silverward, said to be one of most beautiful and intelligent women among the nobility.

To celebrate the occasion, the Central Plaza of Alcamoth is currently a busy hive of activity as the wedding fair is prepared for - a public party for all, with hundreds of incredible sights to see! The great noble families are congregating for the first time since the coronation, each eager to be the first to offer their well wishes to the Royal Couple. The people are excited, and music and song is already filling the streets.

 

[Avari]

NEW LOCATION: Alcamoth

One of the most ancient settlements in Aether, Alcamoth has endured the centuries and hardship to grow to become the capital city of the country and the seat of the Royal Family. Once a gigantic fortress built by Dwarves and Humans during the War of Cinders, Alcamoth has evolved and adapted over time to support its booming population. The city is divided into several dozen different levels, each surrounded by great stone walls that were originally designed to keep the hordes of Darkness as bay. The lower levels of Alcamoth are primarily for the common folk, packed with houses, shops and taverns of all sizes and shapes that have been built haphazardly over the centuries. The higher levels house the more valuable areas - as per Alcamoth’s original fortress design - with the Great Library of Aether, the Grand chapel of Light and the Royal Palace itself at the very apex of the city. It is said the view from the very top is quite spellbinding.

Name: Grand Cleric Lucina
Location: the Grand Chapel of Light
Time: Day 1 - 9AM

The Grand Chapel of Light was a hive of activity - more so than usual in fact. It was not uncommon for the Cathedral to see several thousand visitors through it’s great doorway each day - some came to make an offering to the Gods before going about their daily routine so they might receive a blessing in their work, while others arrived seeking something more tangible; healing, advice...or simply a place to sit quietly and contemplate.

That morning however, was always going to be different.

A Royal Wedding was going to take place in just two days, and the Grand Chapel was where it was going to take place - as was tradition. Floors were being polished to a mirror like shine, stain glass windows were being scrubbed, incense was being prepared and Clerics moved with purpose as they prepared for their roles with calm efficiency. Several Paladins watched the activity from the sidelines as stoic guards - their purpose to overlook the preparations and to provide the reassuring presence they always had.

For all the early morning hubbub and noise however, there was one woman who had quietly drifted around the cathedral, attending to early morning visitors and occasionally giving words of encouragement and gratitude to the hard working Clerics. She wore dark robes - which gave a certain juxtaposition to the usual Church colors of white and blue. Her arms were wrapped in leather, and her blonde hair fell to her shoulders and looked like it hadn’t been brushed in quite some time. Her eyes were hidden behind a black crown, but she didn’t seen to have any trouble finding her way about. Her skin was almost opalescent, like that of a doll, and judging by the way the Paladins bowed their heads in respect as she glided past - she was the one in charge.

The woman made her way to the central altar of the Chapel, from where three great golden statues reached up the ceiling as if in prayer. A small smile appeared on her face, as she slowly lit several candles on the altar.

And then she felt a gentle tug on the hem of her robe. She gazed down in surprise, to see a human child staring up at her - his eyes full of wonder. There was a brief pause. Then he went bright red. It seemed the boy hadn’t quite planned this far ahead.

“...H-hello.” The boy finally managed to stutter.

“And to you, little one.” She replied kindly, smiling at him. The boy - if it was possible - went even redder, and he shuffled from one foot to another. It was rather sweet. “I do not believe I’ve seen you before. What is your name?”
The boy looked confused for a moment. “A-arland. Ma’am.”

“Hello Arland. I am Lucina, what has guided you to me today?”

Arland ran a hand through his brown hair, looking uncomfortable before gazing up at her. “Um...I just wanted to know...um. How do...see?”

He made a rather unnecessary gesture to his eyes, but she found it quite amusing.
Lucina knelt down to her knees, so they were the same height. Arland blinked in surprise as she leaned in close, as if they were sharing a very important secret.

“Magic,” She whispered. Arland gave a small gasp.

“...Y-you’re a mage?” He whispered back, and she smiled and shook her head. Lucina gestured up the Gold statues that towered over them, pointing to one in particular - a woman in a flowing robe.

“She gave it to me,” She told him quietly and Arland’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates as he stared up at the statue.

“...and is it true that your crown is made of....dragon?”

Lucina chuckled at that, but gave him a curt nod. “It is. Dragon bones are used for many things in the Church. What have you learned of Kolaghan?”

“That he was an evil Dragon!” He replied. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Lucina supposed it was only natural. Dragons were rather exciting. “And he was really really big and...and Meyneth’s husband killed him!”

The Grand Cleric’s smile widened. “Very good! Do you remember his name?”

Arland’s nose scrunched up at that. “...Ewbore?”

“Erebor,” She corrected him gently, and he nodded, repeating the name several times.

“I wanna be like Erebor one day. I wanna kill monsters.”

The sight of a man in silver armor filled Lucina’s vision. He stood, tall and resolute before a faceless menace. The creature snarled at him, but he didn’t flinch. He took his blade in hand and-”

Lucina snapped out of the brief vision with a quick shake of her head. The boy looked a little alarmed, but she smiled at him reassuringly as she rose to her feet.

“I’m sure you will, young one.”

Arland looked as if he was to reply, but then there was a horrified shout from behind them.

“Arland!!” a woman was charging towards them, looking distraught as she saw the boy. She looked like she might faint when she saw who he was with. “I’m so sorry, Grand Cleric I hope my son wasn’t bothering you...”

Lucina shook her head, as she smiled down at the boy who quickly found himself being pulled away by his mother.

“It’s honestly no bother. His curiosity pleases Avandra.”

The woman apologized again regardless, before she dragged the boy away - who looked rather pleased despite his mother’s anger.

Lucina smiled as she turned back to the altar. A new day was beckoning.

 

[MagicPenguin]

Character: Arryn Blacksmith
Location: Hogan's Forge; one of Alcamoth's Industrial Levels
Time: Day 1, 9 AM

West of the rolling hills and great, green fields of grass that comprised Alcamoth Field, the great fortress city of Alcamoth--crown jewel of Aether and last bastion against the demonic forces of the dark in days of yore—sat proudly in all its sprawling splendor. The town was organized into levels, with the poor, sick, and otherwise unworthy toiling at the city's very foundation and the rest of society living upon their backs in various secluded levels of their own. Atop these layers, at the city's peak, lay the Grand Chapel of Light and the royal palace, dwelling regally among the city's lesser buildings as a lion sits atop his perch among the lesser members of its pride.

Somewhere in between the two extremes was a layer of the city dedicated to industrial endeavors. Carpenters, painters, builders, and craftsmen of all kinds made their homes here, conveniently located and easy to find for anyone who needed their services. It was in this layer, centrally placed among all the other artisans' businesses so that no one could mistake its importance relative to theirs, that Hogan's Forge stood large and proud. Hogan was a dwarf, and the greatest blacksmith in Alcamoth—if not all of Aether, to hear him tell it. His forge was divided into two floors. On the bottom was the front entrance, which opened to a homey foyer with a front desk, a warm hearth, and a cozy couch for customers to rest upon while they waited to be helped. Beyond the foyer lay a large, sparsely decorated room which contained the building's main source of income: the forge, along with the many tools of the blacksmith's trade. Additionally, Hogan's Forge doubled as a home for its workers, with the second floor containing a humble living area. There were a few bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and all the conveniences one might need to sustain themselves comfortably.

Arryn Blacksmith, Hogan's apprentice of 16 years, awoke in one of these bedrooms to the sun shining aggressively in his face. The window of his room faced East with his bed directly beneath it. The building next door to the forge was tall enough that it blocked the sun's rays for a few hours as it rose, but at about this time every morning, it would rise high enough that its light could sneak past and provide Arryn with the most natural of wake up calls. His unusually large bed groaned piteously under his weight as he sat himself up and prepared to begin his day. The bed had to be specially ordered for him when his post-pubescent growth spurt hit. Even in his pre-teen years, he needed the biggest bed possible to lay comfortably at night; when he grew to full size—well over six feet tall with over 200 pounds of pure upper body strength—there was no choice but for Hogan to have a carpenter friend of his construct one made specially for his size. Even so, it still made a lot of noise whenever he rolled over or moved to get in or out of it, as if it were complaining it had to bear someone so large even though it was crafted specifically for that purpose.

Arryn went about his morning routine in a groggy daze, washing his face and brushing his teeth and then dressing for the day in a simple cotton shirt, loose breeches, and a pair of sturdy work boots. The man valued comfort and function above all else in his wardrobe; no use wearing anything too fancy when it'd just get covered in soot and grime while he worked the forge anyway. As he made his way into the kitchen, he saw something that he hadn't since he was just a boy, newly apprenticed and waking up in a new place for the first time. Hogan was making breakfast. He never did that. It was always Arryn who prepared breakfast for the both of them.

“Ah, you're finally awake, lad! I was just about to play a song for ya on m'flute. Good thing you woke up when you did,” said Hogan affectionately over his shoulder as he poked at some eggs over a fire.

“Thank all the gods above that you didn't,” Arryn said with a shudder. Hogan was not a good musician. Wherever he played his flute, despair was sure to follow. Several people he played for when he got drunk in a tavern once had allegedly lost their hearing for several days afterward. Arryn was pretty sure it had taken the owner of the tavern weeks to find replacements for all the windows Hogan had managed to break with his abysmal playing.

“What's the occasion?” Arryn asked. “You never make breakfast.”

“Ah, but I had to, laddie! As of this morning, we have a huge job on our hands and you have no time to waste sleeping or cooking.”

“You mean the huge order of horseshoes from that stableboy who came yesterday? It's a lot of work, sure, but the deadline is weeks away. I'm sure there's enough time to--”

“Forget about the horseshoes, kid! I got a visit from a messenger straight down from the palace earlier this morning. He paid me twenty gold up front, from the king's very own purse, for the finest decorative blade we could make. Twenty gold! That's more than three times what we usually make on any other weapon! It's to be a prize for the victor of the tournament held on the day of His Highness's royal wedding. As of now, all other jobs are on hold. We only have two days to make the best sword we can possibly make and we need all our resources focused on that.”

Twenty gold...There was a time, in his youth down in Alcamoth's slums, when Arryn could scarcely even have dreamed of seeing so much money in one place. And the king wanted to spend all that cash on a decorative sword that no one would even be able to use in combat. It never ceased to amaze Arryn the frivolous luxuries that the nobleborn were willing to spend their gold on while the children in Alcamoth's lower levels slowly starved.

“That's great, Master!” he said with genuine excitement. “But, um, maybe you should leave the cooking to me in that case. You only have two days. You don't have time to be doing anything but working in the forge. You'll be lucky if you even get a decent night's sleep with that kind of deadline.”

“Ah, but that's where you're wrong, m'boy. It's not me who won't be getting any sleep. It's you. I'm leaving this one in your hands.” Hogan gave him a confident smirk as he placed the eggs he was working on atop a simple plate with bacon and bread and handed it to Arryn. “Eat fast, kid. You got no time for lollygagging. I want that forge burning hot in the next thirty minutes. I'll handle all the lesser jobs for the time being. Just leave the horseshoes to me and you make the best sword you've ever made. Remember, this is for the king himself! Don't screw it up!” Hogan nodded curtly and walked down the stairs to the forge. “I'll warm her up for you. Forge'll be all ready when you're done. Hurry up and eat, boy, we don't have all day,” he said as his retreating head disappeared down the steps.

“Hey, wait! Master Hogan! The king wanted a sword from the best blacksmith in the city, not his apprentice! I'm not skilled enough for something so--” he cut himself off with a resigned sigh. It was no use. Hogan was already gone, and once he made up his mind it was near impossible to change it anyway. He sat and dug into his plate. Such an important job...Arryn knew his skill had improved remarkably over the years. He'd trained as a blacksmith for well over half of his life under the legendary smith Hogan and it wasn't boasting to say that anything he made was likely on par with any average dwarven smith, but still. He'd done weapons and metal objects of all kinds for the highest nobles and the lowest commoners, but never for someone as important as the king himself. It was more than a little nerve-wracking.

Thirty minutes later, Arryn made his way to the forge downstairs, where he found it already ablaze, as Hogan promised earlier. The oven itself had openings for two cavities so that two people could use it at once. In addition, there were two anvils in the center of the room for multiple workers and several workbenches along the side of the room topped with tools for sharpening, chiseling, engraving, and other work on fine details. The dwarf himself was hammering away at a piece of red-hot, unshaped metal at an anvil in the center of the room. “Ah, there you are! About time. Get to work, boy! Your life for the next two days doesn't extend two feet outside of this forge unless you're eating, sleeping, or shitting. Am I understood?”

Arryn nodded and donned heavy leather gloves, a thick apron, and goggles. He grabbed a bar of steel and a pair of tongs and began to heat the metal in the forge. When it became very hot, it would become malleable and then it would be time to start shaping it with his hammer. As he heated the steel, he made plans in his head for what the sword would look like. Usually, you didn't want a weapon to be too ornate, lest you impede its function by making it too heavy or unbalanced. Simple was best. For an ornamental weapon, however, a little additional flair was called for. Maybe he'd use some gold in addition to steel. Perhaps a fancy pommel and guard.

When the metal was hot, he placed it on an unoccupied anvil across from Hogan's and began beating it rhythmically with his hammer. As usual, the sweet, steady song of metal ringing on metal was nearly hypnotic for Arryn and he lost focus on anything but the red-hot steel in front of him and the swinging hammer in his hand.

 

[The_Omega_Effect]

Name:Andwyn Rhaegon

Location: ???
Time: ???

Andwyn panted for breath as he tried to take another step. This journey of his had already taken a very long time. He wondered how much more time it would take until he reached his final goal. Although the climb was difficult, he could keep himself distracted by looking down at the city that could only be seen that particular way by being as high up from the ground as he was. Looking at how the entire town was working together in peace, only filled him with determination to continue on with his quest. By pulling himself up, he finally reached the top of the hill and his journey was finally finished. Almost finished. It was time for him to end many catastrophes before they began. He saw that the beast that he had come to slay was right in front of him, ominously turning around to face him.

It was the dreaded Kolaghan the Black, looking exactly like how he was portrayed in all those old and boring history books. He only looked at the pictures that were drawn in them anyway. A chill rushed down Andwyn's spine as he struggled to reach for his enchanted sword. He then pulled it out of his back and wielded it with both his hands, holding it in front of him. The holy Meyneth had blessed it with all of her might and grace. She had come back to the world in order to save it from the beast. However, with her physical form destroyed by Kolaghan, she could only rely on Andwyn to slay the beast on her behalf. He closed his eyes, and then called upon the powers of the church. A beam of light descended from the heavens and hit the blade. It then started to glow golden in power, radiating holy energy as it got brighter and brighter. It was so bright in fact, that Andwyn could not even directly look at the blade himself. Even Kolaghan was scared. This flinching of the beast gave him confidence. He then rushed towards the beast with the sword in his hand. This was the moment of his life. He jumped up in the air, ready to unleash an incredibly powerful strike the likes of which no one has ever seen before. But then, he stopped.

He was stopped rather, suspended in the air. He could not move. The dragon was only a few feet away from him and it did nothing but smile. The weapon was ripped by what seemed to be the thin air from Andwyn's hands. It then floated between him and the dragon for a brief period before cracks started to show up all over it. Then, It shattered. All of the light that was around him, seemingly got sucked into where the sword was broken. The entire world was plunged into darkness. All that Andwyn could see, were the eyes of the foul beast, illuminated by its evil magic. It then opened up its terrifying jaw and started to speak to him.

"For all of your efforts, you have but inconvenienced me, speck."

"I am a god. You however, are nothing but a worm beneath anybody's notice."

"Your foolishness coming up here only goes to show that you have forgotten."

The mouth of the creature opened with a sickening dark orange light radiating out

"ALLOW ME TO REFRESH YOUR MEMORY!"
The creature opened its mouth and sent out massive blasts of fire. What the darkness all around him had occupied before, was all replaced by the destructive fire. Andwyn could not do anything. He could not move, he could not escape, but worst of all, he could not scream. The fires surrounding him started to creep closer and closer to him as he heard the screams of men, women and children all around him. Did he fail? Was this all because of him? The creature did nothing but laugh harder and harder as Andwyn inched closer and closer to his demise. Then it all ended for him.

NEW LOCATION: Andwyn's Crib
Just a small house in the city that his parents had bought for him when they first sent him here. It has two floors and contains a bedroom where he works and sleeps, a bathroom, a small kitchen and a small section separated by a door where he keeps all of his things.

Location: Andwyn's Crib
Time: Day 1 - 9AM

Andwyn's entire body recoiled backwards as a result of him waking up from such a terror. Him doing it so fast, lead to the chair he was sitting on to fall back, landing him on the floor. He contemplated just staying there and continuing his slumber. But then the memory of what he was doing last night in the first place, gave him a reason to get up. He stood up and placed his chair back on its legs. Looking at his work, he cursed himself for not taking care of it gradually over time instead of rushing it to completion within the final days it was due in. Andwyn was to transcribe all the information from an incredibly old book to a new one as it was starting to decay and some of the words were starting to wear away.

It was one of the most boring tasks that could ever be given. While the others were to do much more fun and interesting things, he was to sit down and write a book about a tale he had heard thousands of times. The tale of Kolaghan the Black by a dead historian. He remembered finishing it and then just drifting off into sleep last night. The sleep was not good enough however, as the air bags under his eyes were still there. Regardless of whether he had enough sleep or not, he had to quickly run to the chapel and hand in the work that was due. He closed off the ink that he used, placed the feather pen he wrote with back and then went to his bathroom, all while thinking about his peculiar dream. Here, Andwyn washed up for the day and then went back to his bedroom. He then haphazardly put on his ceremonial church uniform and then packed his bag up. Before leaving, he grabbed the new version of the old book he had copied.

Prepared to leave, Andwyn rushed out of his house and then locked the door, ensuring that it was close afterwards. He then started to run towards the chapel that he agreed to meet the other academic in, in order to hand his assignment in. As he was doing so, he had to manuever around a variety of people. The Royal Wedding just had to wait for this very moment to make his life miserable. A loud rumble could be heard from his belly. He had not eaten anything the previous night as he was working on the final pages. He ran into the bakery and then left 12 Bronze coins on the counter.

"Just give me a bun. Make it quick. I'm running late."

The man pocketed the coins and then picked up a steaming bun from a fresh batch he had just cooked.

"You normally come by an hour or two earlier. Which means that you are only that much late then."

As he handed the bun to him, he tried to part with a few words of warning.

"Careful. The bun is steami--"

But it was already too late as Andwyn had already bitten into it. He then recoiled from the heat and then screamed inside his mouth. Without even chewing, he swallowed the part of the bun he had bitten off and then waved his hand in front of him while coughing.

"FUCK! Oh my god.... I-I'll see you later."

He then ran out of the bakery, ears still hearing the loud laughter of the man. He quickly gobbled the bun down on his way there. Out of breath from running quite the distance, Andwyn tried his best to quickly scale the steps to the chapel. He then entered it, only to be frustrated even further by the sight of everyone making preparations for the wedding.

Location: the Grand Chapel of Light


Standing for a second, Andwyn tried to find a safe route to the office where he could submit his work. Then, with a few more deep breaths he broke out into a sprint once more, trying his best to navigate through all the people and all the things being carried. Suddenly, a woman carrying a child popped up in front of him out of nowhere. It was highly likely that they were there to begin with and Andwyn just did not see them. It was no issue as he swiftly darted to their side and ran past them, exchanging a worried look with the somewhat angrier one given by the mother.

Unbeknownst to him, a woman with silver hair was in his way. With him being distracted and having no time to react, he hadn't the chance to properly move out of the way. He clumsily dashed to the side of her and was relived for not hitting her for a second. This was before he realised that the altar was right in front of him and there was nothing he could to to stop himself from crashing into it. His stomach hit the very edge of the altar which caused him to fall over with the book flying out of his hand. The altar itself was not damaged at all. The case was not the same however, for Andwyn. He clutched at his stomach without moving on the ground, unable to breathe for a few moments.He tried his very best to get up on one of his knees. He was clearly annoyed by her not hearing him charge through the place and wanted to give her a piece of his mind.

"Can't you ju-"

Andwyn immediately bit his tongue so as to stop himself from telling one of the most important people in the church to basically fuck off. He then tried his best to gain his composure back. Standing up, he did a slight bow with his head followed by an apology. Getting kicked out of the organisation was most definitely not his intention. He wanted to grab his book and leave as fast as possible. But it would not score him any points if he just ran without saying a word.

"M-My humblest apologies Grand Cleric."

Avari

 

[Joker987]

Name: Crow
Location: Alcamoth's markets.
Time: Day 1- 9AM

A heavy sigh escaped crow as he held his pouch of eighty silver in his hand with a deep sadness. How did it come to this? How did he get in such a horrible, utterly hopeless situation? How will he be able to come back from this tragic event!?

"And with that last bit the total comes up to eighty silver!" a loud, heavy sweating merchant practically cheered with delight as the last of Crows much need supplies left his wagon. His seemingly expensive tunic was practically doused in his sweat from the suns unforgiving heat and was barely holding up against the mans horrifyingly huge gut. A smile was planted from ear to ear on his chubby face, showing his crooked and yellow teeth that displayed his rather disgusting joyful attitude. He chuckled greedily as he eyed Crows earnings and slightly drooled with excitement from his coming sale. As the crate of supplies touched the markets stone pavement Crows head lowered in defeat as he forced his body to abandon his earnings into the hands of the joyful merchant. He bounced up and down with joy, his belly shaking like jelly, after his latest sale and retreated to his caravan with hired blades flanking his sides.

Crow sighed once more and motioned for his men to load up their new supplies and equipment onto their cart. "Lets go lads before this place takes the rest of our earnings," he said with a frown under his helmet. His men of fifteen groaned or gave silent curses as they began to load the cargo. Crow watched as they loaded everything aboard and let his eyes travel along their now damaged cart. A few scorched marks traveled along the carts side along with half broken arrows and a nearly busted wheel. It was a miracle this things was even standing. Luckily none of his men lost their lives from the attack, but thanks to a frightened horse and a panicked handler their once bountiful amount of supplies and equipment found themselves sinking to the bottom of Lake Anduin. Took them hours to save that damned cart. Crow simply shook his head at their unfortunate luck and rested his sword onto his armored shoulder.

"Captain, a word with you?" Crow looked to his left and was greeted by one of his more capable men, Lox. Lox stood tall, but only reached Crows chin as he wore a concerned look on his young face. He ruffled his messy black hair and let his copper eyes gaze around the two to make sure none of the other men could hear him speak. "I, um... I have some disturbing news that involves the rest of our earnings," Crow felt his right eye twitch as a vain in the top of his head had nearly burst from annoyance and rage. Though, Lox couldn't tell as he simply saw his captain staring down at him while clenching his sword on his shoulder with a tight, shaking grip. Crow took a few seconds and took a deep breath before speaking.

"What's the disturbing news?" he asked with a low growl. Lox scratched the back of his head and gave a sheepish smile as he lifted up a jingling pouch.

"We're down to forty silver and twenty copper," he said quickly as if to get it over with. Crows mind went numb as his body trembled with rage.

"WHAT!?" he cried loudly, causing a few passers to give him an odd, or shocked glance at his outburst. His men on the other hand looked on with a hint of amusement as Lox shrunk from his captains rage. Wasn't often for them to see their usually cool headed leader going off like this. "How in all of the bloody gods in this world did we lose that much!? We had at least three hundred silver!" he shouted in disbelief. Lox simply looked at his captain with worry before a nervous chuckle escaped him and he looked towards the rest of the party for help. He found none as they watched on with grins and gestures to keep going. Finally he cleared his throat and looked back to Crow with a nervous smile.

"Um, well sir... you lost a good chunk of it the night we had ran into that traveling act. You remember, the one with the dancing bear?" he nervously chuckled. Crow thought for a moment, but only shook his head.

"What are you on about boy? What act? What dancing bear!" he asked with more confusion then rage.

"It was the night we found you dancing through the woods with nothing on but your helmet sir!" a man from the cart shouted before the rest of the party burst out into laughter, all except Lox who looked away while stifling his own laughter. Crows eyes widened with realization and felt his armored hand face palm onto his helmet.

"Oh gods that's right, that damned animal trainer gave me a foul tasting drink and I woke up to you fools laughing at me," he mumbled, glancing to his laughing party with an annoyed glare. Crow soon dropped his glare and sighed with frustration. "Damn it all, looks like we'll need to find employment to help put our funds back together," Lox seemed to smile as he raised his thumb up for Crow.

"Actually sir, I think I found something that can aid us in this dire crisis," he said as he jabbed his thumb behind him towards a group of guards patrolling the market. "I overheard them talking about a tournament being held in the higher levels to celebrate the royal wedding. You could easily win enough to get us back on track!" he stated with confidence. The rest of the party seemed to nod in agreement and gave a few cheers of encouragement towards their captain.

"Come on sir, show them what a real warrior is like!"

"You can beat a few nobles without a doubt!"

"Then you can buys us a round of drinks!"

The last one wasn't very helpful, but the rest of the men seemed to agree with him. Crow thought for a moment and shrugged. "Guess it's worth a shot," his men cheered and began to load the cargo even faster as they were now excited to see their leader in action. After a few minutes they had finished and mounted onto their horses. Lox guided Crows mount, a well breed steed with a healthy brown coat, and Crow pulled himself up while patting his mounts side. He gripped his sword by the blade with his armored gloves and raised the hilt slightly above his head. "Alright men, to the tournament!" his men gave a quick cheer and they began their march through the streets and towards the higher levels.

 

[Avari]

Name: Grand Cleric Lucina | Andwyn Rhaegon
Location: the Grand Chapel of Light
Time: Day 1 - 9:20AM

The Grand Cleric did not respond to the rather disorientated cleric straight away - in fact, she hadn't even reacted to his somewhat tumultuous entrance. Her pale face was focused on the golden idol that towered over them, though to be fair it didn't really matter where she turned - she could not see, after all. Or at least, not in the sense that most would consider it. The black crown of bone that shielded her eyes glimmered dimly in the candlelight, and the rich smoke from the incense held her in a caring embrace. A gentle chant began to thread itself through the chapel. One of praise and celebration. It was rather comforting.



"You seem rather stressed Andwyn."

The boy was wondered for a moment how she could tell. Lucina's powers were common knowledge throughout the Church and Alcamoth as a whole, but it was still rather fascinating. He raised his hand and started scratching the back of his head out of the slight anxiety he had gotten from this predicament. "How could you tell?"

"Call it intuition." She replied softly, before turning her attention to the heavy looking book that he had dropped to the floor. She knelt down at picked it up, and ran her right hand lovingly over the cover.

"This is a good book. I don't quite agree with his interpretations of Meyneth's childhood, but on the whole it's quite a fascinating read. Have you finished it yet?"

"I have indeed. It was written by High Scholar Gendry, Finished transcribing it to the copy you're holding right now. The original version was starting to decompose - I was going to submit it right now actually." He desperately did not want to start talking about the actual contents of the book. With him transcribing a book of such size within a span of a week while given an entire month to do so, he did not have the time to pay attention to the details of it or do anything more with the information other than rewriting it in a new form.

"That is good," Lucina nodded, smiling considerately. "You must be proud of it."

The smile shortly took shape on the face of the boy after the Grand Cleric talked of how he should be proud of his work. But the slight sense of pride he felt once he was finished with the monotonos task was vastly overshadowed by the relief, the tiredness and the stress he had felt as he was done. "Well I do have to run it by the high scholars to see whether it is okay or not so I don't think it is time for me to be proud yet."

"You don't sound especially confident."

"Well...I am sure you are aware that I am quite... prone to making mistakes when it comes to work like this. I screwed up the last one pretty bad as I had forgotten to write in the citations and whatnot."

The Grand Cleric didn't reply at first, instead she handed the book back to him. She did not seem to be troubled by it's weight. "Knight-Commander Ulfric often says that if you're not making mistakes then you're not doing anything."

"Last time I checked, Knight-Commander Ulfric was not the one responsible for the many books kept in the library." He said as he gestured towards the book in his hand.

"No, that would be me." Lucina replied, but there was a small smile on her face. "Meyneth teaches us that the wise forgive and learn from their mistakes. Did you add your citations this time?"

"Y-yes of course." His voice cracked a bit. The citations of any book or paper were the most tedious parts to add. It was a miracle to Andwyn how anybody could properly cite all of the various sources used to write the books, as it was a part that he commonly screwed up. This time he made sure to get it correctly as it was the last thing he wrote a few hours ago before he crashed on his desk.

"Then your mistake had a purpose." Lucina acknowledged as she turned back to the altar.
"You mustn't let me keep you any longer. But do please be more careful in future, Andwyn."

He then contemplated for a brief period of her acknowledgment of his mistake having a purpose. Although she was correct for that particular instance, he noted that generally mistakes screwed up his already terrible reputation amongst the higher scholars. He then cleared his throat and then did another bow before leaving. "Thank you very much for your council, Grand Cleric. I shall be on my way then."

She didn't reply, but smiled and gave him a nod of acknowledgement gliding away to deal with other matters.

Andwyn then quickly scurried away to the office of the grand scholar, ready to have his work evaluated.

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

Name: Harmon of Erie / Dain of Cytherea
Location: Harmon's private workshop -> City Sewers -> Upper Class Streets
Time: Day 1 - 9:00AM ->9:30AM

He fiddled with the pieces of clockwork mechanism, shuffling them around the tabletop, lifting a cogwheel and mounting it on a pin, then giving it a little tip to make it spin. Technology was fascinating stuff, and it always made Harmon thrill at the sight of it.

Harmon knew that despite the wonders of technology, magic could outstrip it in so many fields. Or rather, it used to be able. Once, any man, be he religious, athiest, or even misthiest, could become a mage, given the born ability for it. Now, however, if you desired to even do the most rudimentary of things, you had to devote yourself to the gods and worship under the churces rules.

Worse yet, magic and its practitioners were something of a rare commodity these days, making these toys and parlour tricks necessary if he ever desired some measure of real power. Magic could solve everything, but it was often easier to do without, especially considering the hoops one needed to jump through. Just press a button, or pull a lever, and it happened. No need for great feats of concentration, time-consuming runes, alien incantations, or devotion to a corrupt system. Harmon remembered the time he had spent as an apprentice illusionist working the crowds for his master. It had been utterly amazing, and yet, appaling at the same time. He remembered the smell of sweat, and worse, of feces and piss. The looks of pure joy at what seemed to Harmon as obvious tricks. The morons who would often accost his master afterward, asking to be taught magic. Above all, Harmon remembered the gullibility, the overhanging idiocy of those peasants, those very people he once was.

He knew that if he ever desired to be different from these fools, these dunces who believed that if a pregnant woman were to eat rabbit, the baby'd have long ears, he would have to work tirelessly. Dhaunae had opened his eyes to those fools. Taught him to look beyond the face value, and see the truth of most situations. These people were not so idiotic because of their own volition. The only thing that caused it was a lack of information, of education. But, Dhaunae also taught him that the kings hated the idea of educationg the masses. For if the people were educated, then they would see that man, and the churches, lies.

So, Harmon had labouriously struggled to the top, tricking the nobles who were just as gullible as the masses into believing parlor tricks were real magic. He made them seem the fool, when he'd end up stealing their jewels and gilded swords. Yet they could never believe a "great wizard" such as he would ever steal from them. And now here he was, playing with the bits of a clockwork astronomical device. The dwarves were exceptionally good at making these items, Harmon knew. It was such a shame they were dying out. Luckily, he had two working for him.

Of course, he had heard tales of golems. Those constructs of wood or stone or steel, brought to life with but a simple rune here and there, and a magically imbued piece of paper. But no one remembered what runes anymore, or what to write on the paper. But then, there were the tales Borin and Baelin would bring back on their visits to Gulorum, of the dwarves trying to create living machines of some sort.

Could this mesmerising object, this soul-less, functional bit of cunningly-fashioned metal, bound by laws stricter than any of man's imagining, become more powerful than the gods themselves? A god within the machines?

He shook his head. He was becoming distracted and distant. He had become so used to losing his concentration like this that he was no longer sure of whether it had started as an affectation to lull his opponents or a handy personality trait that he had deftly exploited. Looking around the scantly-furnished room, he realised that the sun was a bit higher than it should have been.

Feeling a pang of regret at dismantling the time-piece, he swept from his chamber. That, at least, was one thing at which cogs and gears would always best him. Keeping time.

* * * * *​

A short time later, Harmon found himself inside the city sewers, making his way up and into the far nobler section of the city. The slime covered stones were old friends to him by this point, and the little salamanders and rats knew to avoid the path between his workshop and his destination. After several minutes, he was here. Climbing out of the manhole and replacing it, he would find himself in an alley behind an old abandoned building, it's only inhabitant being an aging beggar. Or so it seemed.

"Morning, Dain. Nice to see you." The man said. He was a Spider, a professional thief, and a brother in arms to Dain of Cytherea. And luckily, Harmon wasn't there anymore. "Morning Kimble. Sleep well?"
"Oh, 'bout as well as a beggar can expect in this rathole," Kimble responded.

"Well, I've gotta head out. Getting things prepared for the kings tournament in a few days. You joining?"

"That I may, that I may. Had my eyes on that archery competition, but then again, I've been hearing rumors that you'd be joing that. So perhaps not. But I'll still be on call," The aging thief explained, a light twinkle in those odd heterochromatic eyes of his. Green and brown.

The man was the previous so called King of Thieves, ousted by Dain in a competition of thievery. He used to be called the Emerald Eye by the nobles, and by thieves, he was known as Kimble the Quick. But now, he was just some scarred beggar with weird eyes. Though there seemed to be no hard feelings between them, Dain knew better than to fully trust Kimble, despite his surprising sense of morality and honor. After all, it was no knights honor, but a thieves.

"Alright, I'm heading out. Stay safe, old man,"

"You too, Cutpurse Crownling," Kimble responded bitingly. The aging man obviously hated being called an old man, and knew Dain himself hated all those little shitty nicknames. But Dain ignored him, and continued on out of the alleyway, heading further into the city, towards the home of Dhaunae the Magician.


(Open to Interaction)

 

[Keidivh]

Name: Belegor Ironhammer
Location: Deluge Wetlands
Time: Day 1 - ?

Thirteen days. Thirteen days since Gulorum's Seekers had entered the Deluge Wetlands. Thirteen days since they last saw the shining sun, choked out by a sickly fog that felt as if it carried pestilent diseases through the air itself. Thirteen days of death, over half of the party having died on the journey. Delthius' throat was ripped out by a massive black spider while he slept, the rest of the party waking up to the sounds of him choking on his blood and snapping mandible. Matthias and Vondred were separated from the main force during an attack by the undead that rose from a nearby bog, their rotted, waterlogged skin falling off their bones even as they tore off the twins limbs off. By the time they cleared out the undead they couldn't even distinguish their comrades from the piles of flesh left over.

Thirteen days of madness. Whispers heard constantly throughout the night, vivid dreams of family members being flayed, their homes burnt to the ground by shadowy terrors. Alrick ran off into an unnatural mist when he began ranting about hearing his little girls screams. His severed hand was found further up the path, clutching a rotten and torn doll. His uncle noted Alricks daughter had one just like it.

Thirteen days of a hell unlike any had thought possible. This was a place beyond even the gods protection, yet here they stood before the decayed gates of Beneth Tha'lan. It looked as if even the strong iron gates and stone walls were eaten away by the corrosive environment of the Wetlands.

"Hard to believe we sacrificed so many Dwarven lives for this pile of of moss covered rubble." Belegor mumbled to himself as emerald eyes scanned the ruins for any sign of life. He knew horrors lurked in there, they lurked in every inch of this gods forsaken land. The question was how many were there, and did they have enough steel and shot to take care of it.

"I think after decades of exploring, you know the shittiest looking places can have the most invaluable spoils." An unnaturally calm and kind voice said to him, his deep tone helping to soothe his frayed nerves. His father Durin walked up to his side, placing a mailed hand on his shoulder. "In there you will find a relic unlike any we've seen before. Something to truly help our people. I only wish I could have lived to see it."

"What in the Ancestors names are you talking ab-" Belegors words died on his tongue as he turned to his father, his stark white beard tarnished with blood and gore, a massive blot piercing through his chainmail. Around them were the corpses of Dwarves as far as the eye could see, various horrors fighting over the dead, the sound of snapping bones and torn flesh growing into a deafening symphony of horror. His gaze fixed onto Durin, his weathered, pale skin seeming to decay before his eyes, hazel eyes losing the spark that he knew so well, that saw the Seekers to the various reaches of Aether and its treasures.

"No, not again. I'm not losing you again! Please!" Belegor's usually strong voice broke as he pleaded with his father, trying to hold on to his torn bloody armor, even as Durin began to fade into dust, a forlorn smile on his face as he grabbed his sons shoulders.

"Don't let this be our legacy lad." With that, his father was gone and an eerie silence came over the dead land. Turning back towards the ruins, it became apparent he was far from alone. Crawling out from the recesses of the ruined fort came a horror that he knew all to well. As it finally reached the outside it stood, reaching over 10 feet in height, a lifeless beast skull atop its head, its twisted body covered in what looked to be freshly skinned animal and human skin. It's unnaturally long arms were made of gnarled, decayed wood, yet even still its claws could rend through platemail. And within its hollow eye sockets were bright sapphire orbs that stared into Belegors very being. Belegor reached for Thunderer, yet his hand found nothing but air, his weapons gone.

"Do not fear Ironhammer, I'm not hear to flay your skin and drink your bone marrow. I owe you my thanks in fact." The beasts skull didn't move as it spoke, the voice emanating from seemingly nowhere. It sounded old, sophisticated almost, yet there was an unmistakable animalistic rage beneath its words, a hatred that no mortal could hope to comprehend.

Every word filled Belegors own heart with an endless fury, his teeth grining together upon mention of it thanking him.

"The fuck are you on about hellspawn? Just kill me and get this over with, or I'll rip that skull off and shove it up your arse!" The beast simply laughed at his threat, as an adult would laugh at a young child trying to intimidate them.

"I'm thanking you for all the Dwarves you brought to me, I haven't tasted such succulent flesh in some time. Those that survived made particularly amusing playthings. You are a stubborn people, but it makes it that much more fun to break them. And I'm looking forward to who you'll bring next. I need a new skin to add to my collection. Your fathers was particularly nice." Belegor was unable to find words as the beast lifted said skin before him, some of his fathers white beard still visible beneath all the blood.

"Until we meet again, Ironhammer."

Spoiler: The Beast

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
​

Name: Belegor Ironhammer
Location: Alcamoth - Drakefall Tavern
Time: Day 1 - 9 am

"I'll fucking cave your skull in ya bastard!" Belegor bellowed as his leathery hand reached for Grudge Bearer, but rather than finding the familiar handle of his massive hammer, felt himself falling back, his body slamming into the dirt covered wooden floors beneath him, his stool crashing to the ground. For a few moments the Dwarf simply lay on his back, trying to collect his wits from that unnerving dream. If he could even call it that. It all felt to structured, to direct. It fucking spoke to him.

"Well now, look who has finally roused from his slumber, and so gracefully might I add." The mocking feminine voice caused the explorer to roll his eyes and finally push himself up to his feet. Rolling his neck to get out a kink, he looked over to the bar to see a young Elven lass staring at him with her sapphire eyes, a bemused smirk on her pale, freckled face which was barely holding back her laughter. Brushing her auburn out of her face, she finally had enough of this amusing spectacle and put up a mug of water for the Dwarf.

"Here, this should get the taste of stale ale out of your mouth you oaf. Trying not to break any more of my stools while ya drink it." Walking up to the bar, Belegor grabbed the mug, quickly downing its contents, swishing it about his dry mouth to get the taste of shitty ale out.

"Thank ye Dhalia, and sorry about the stool, I'll see to it that's paid for." Dhalia simply waved off his remark as she reached beneath the bar and began laying out his equipment for him. Any other place, Belegor would sooner die than let another lay their hands upon his gear. But the Drakefall Inn, this place was like a second home to him. The Seekers travels often had them far from their home, and Alcamoth became a regular place for them to recuperate after an expedition, or a base to prepare for one. The Drakefall Tavern was where they spent a great deal of their time, drinking away some of the horrors they had seen, and resting in some cozy feathered beds. It wasn't the best tavern, but Dhalia's mother had taken care of them like her own, and Dhalia had continued that legacy after she passed in her sleep.

"Don't you worry your pretty little beard Belegor, the damage ain't that bad. Sides, I have a nice pouch of silvers from all of the ale you downed last night, and that was with the family discount tagged on." Calloused hands ran across his face as he heard how much coin he had spent in just one night. What did that leave him with, 5 gold, perhaps 4? Not much to rebuild an Adventurer's Company from.

Seeing his exasperated look, Dhalia's face softened, leaning across the bar to place a hand on his shoulder. "You know, you came in here last night without any of the other Seeker's. None of them... What's happened Belegor?" Her voice held genuine worry in it, causing a sad smile to form on his lips. It was heartwarming to know how much she cared for them, and heartbreaking to know he had to tell her.

"I... It's just that... Shit, heh, I don't even know how to say this." Belegor said as he stared into his empty mug. "Our last expedition, it was into the Deluge Wetlands, near two weeks in. We made it to the ruins... I was the only one that made it out of that gods forsakened place." The hand wrapped around his mug began to tremble as he spoke, having to acknowledge that fact made him feel sick. Dhalia's reaction wasn't any better, covering her mouth as tears began to well in her sapphire eyes.

"A-all of them? That, that can't be true. You lot have been doing this shit since before I was born! They wouldn't... They wouldn't all die on one fucking expedition!" Her eyes pleaded for him to say he was lying, that it was all some sick joke. The tears that began falling from his own eyes told her she wouldn't be that fortunate, rushing around the bar, she practically tackled him with a hug before she began sobbing into his shoulder. Belegor simply held her shivering form, staring blankly at the wall.

They remained like this for some time before Dhalia regained her composure, wiping the moisture from her now puffy eyes before standing up. "Well, as long as you're here in Alcamoth, you'll have free lodging in the Drakefall."

It was a sweet gesture, and warmed the Dwarf's heart, but Belegor simply couldn't take advantage of her hospitality. "That's sweet of ye Dhalia, but-"

"So help me Belegor if you try and refuse I'll break another barstool over your head! Your family, the only one I got left now it seems, so your staying here for free and that's that!" Dhalia gave him an authoritative glare, even as fresh tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

A resigned sigh escaped Belegor as he gave her a weary smile. "Alright now lassy you win, not like I could hope to take ye in a scrap anyways."

Her glare lasted only for another second before she broke out into a gentle laugh, Belegor glad to see a smile back on her face. He wasn't able to spend much time in Alcamoth, but he had known Dhalia since she was but a babe, and grew to think of her as a niece since then. Seeing her in distress was more than he could bare at the moment.

With that settled, Belegor began to collect his gear strapping his worn leather pack to his back, alongside his prize possession, Thunderer. A labor of love that had taken him months to perfect, now a lethal rifle with, inlaid with multiple aesthetic runes. Then of course there was Grudge Bearer. His fathers personal hammer, having been in the family since before the Fall it was said. Hefting it onto his shoulder, he glanced over at Dhalia, who had grabbed a spare biscuit for him.

"Do i have to remind you to eat now?" Another eye roll was his answer, taking the biscuit and giving an appreciative nod before making his way towards the door.

"What are you gonna be up to?" She called after him as he opened the front door, squinting as the bright sun assaulted his eyes.

"Gonna figure out how the hell to start a new company capable of traversing the Wetlands. Ya know, nothing to difficult. I'll see ya later squirt." Taking a bite of the somewhat stale biscuit, he headed out into the streets and begin the long process of rebuilding, and gaining retribution.

"Oh who are you calling squirt ye pint sized fu-" The door slammed behind him before she could finish her sentence, Belegor unable to hold back a hearty laugh as he breathed in some fresh air. It was an invigorating smell, the various odors coming from the various taverns, cheap perfumes emanating from the brothels. Alright, maybe not exactly fresh air, but it was city air. Just for a moment, another smell hit his nostrils, rotting flesh from the Wetlands. His eyes immediately began scanning the area, trying to figure out where this came from, but as quick as the smell assailed him it was gone.

His right hand began trembling lightly for a moment before he grabbed it with his left. "Just a bit shaken up is all Belegor. That's all..." Not entirely convinced of his own words, Belegor began making his way into the Markets. There was no particular goal he had in mind, he just needed to walk, clear his head. The loud, chaotic sounds of the market actually helped with that oddly, made it easier to focus.

More than likely his armor would need to be repaired, a cursory glance showed that much. His mail was torn in multiple places, including the brown leather vest over it, though that was something he could live with. At the very least his gold embroidered plate of his shoulderguards, and bracers were intact. Then there was the hunter green cloak he wore nearly at all time, which had plenty of tears, but again, he could live with that.

As he wandered and looked over his armor, his ears caught something of interest. A group of mercenaries talking about a tournament of some sort for the royal wedding. A tournament like that would have an invaluable prize more likely than not, and something like that could potentially finance the rebuilding of his adventurers troop.

Much to his amusement, the mercenaries began rushing off to the tournament, and unless he had drank himself unconscious for a couple days, that wasn't today. Heh, perhaps someone should tell the overeager sods. Sides, will give me a chance to sign up meself. Show these bastards what a Dwarf with a big hammer can do.
​

Joker987 (If you wanna interact a bit I'm game)

 

[Lefic]

Name: Lynn Drewrith
Location: Alcamoth: Markets —> Upper levels
Time: Day 1- 9AM

Lynn Drewrith wandered through the markets of Alcamoth, looking for her old friends. She'd been in Alcamoth for about a week. The elf hadn't yet searched every area in the capital. It would take quite effort to find three people in a whole city—it could be likened to trying to find a needle in a haystack. As she wandered through the bustling market district, a sour look of distaste formed on her face. "And they call this the market... this compares nothing to Vakaris," she muttered to herself.

The silver-haired woman knew that her best chance of finding the Enderarch Explorers would be at the king's after-party but that didn't stop her from looking around before that date. In each place she visited, she left notes reading "EE - Lynn" scrawled in messy handwriting so that they knew she was looking for them. She had also gone around and asked people if they'd seen any new faces matching the descriptions of her old crew but to no avail.

Lynn knew she had to be concentrating on finding her friends, but the smell of the buns was so tempting that she started salivating. Her empty stomach growled and the elf decided it was time to eat. She contemplated stealing the buns but, shaking the idea out of her head, reached for her purse and decided to pay for it. Having left all her money in a bank in Vakaris, Lynn was struggling quite a bit in this new city. Yes, she was paying for the bun with stolen money but it was one step up from not paying at all. As soon as the bun was passed into her hands, the elf devoured it hungrily.

The merchant chuckled, "You must've been famished, eh?". Lynn nodded in reply, wiping the crumbs away from her mouth using her forearm. The merchant picked up an apple from his stand, polished it in his apron and threw it to Lynn, which she caught in one hand. "On the house. Take care o'yehself, a'ight?" said the kindly man.

"Thanks," Lynn said and walked away. This kind of thing doesn't happen in Vakaris, she thought to herself, taking a bite into the apple.

Walking down an alleyway, the elf's eyes were drawn to a colourful poster on the wall. "Tournament for the king, eh?" she said while scanning the details with her eyes. "Heh. Vincent would've loved to enter this..." she muttered wistfully, reminiscing about the human leader of the Enderarch Explorers. A sudden thought snapped her out of her daze. There's a good chance that he would enter, she figured, and of course Irwin and Lorbeck would've come along. With a wide grin on her face, Lynn darted up the steps of the alleyways and started making her way to the area where the tournament would be held.

The young woman stood still as contenders for the tournament rushed past her. Her head turned left and right as her eyes drank in all the sights around her, her mouth ajar with awe. "Magnificent," she breathed. Even though she preferred Vakaris, Lynn couldn't help but find the architecture of the upper levels impressive. Looking at the silverette, one might've thought that she was going to enter the competition. She looked like the type to cheat her way to victory. If Lynn knew how to, she probably would have done. However, the competition wasn't what she was here for. The fact that she left almost all her money in Vakaris meant that she wasn't planning to stay in Alcamoth; her plan was to take her group back to Vakaris, collect supplies and then attempt to survive in the Deludge Wetland for long enough to find some high-selling ruins and get the hell out of that death-trap. However, on further thought, it came to Lynn that her idea wasn't the smartest. Her plan wasn't well-thought out in the slightest; she underestimated how long it would take to find her friends and, even if she found them, it was unlikely that they'd even want to go somewhere as ill-reputed as the Wetlands. To be honest, even Lynn didn't want to re-enter. After only three days, the elf was almost dead. It took two weeks of resting at an inn for her to recover physically.

Lynn Drewrith waited around the area for quite some time and grew rather impatient. There was no sight of anybody she knew. "If I don't see him now, he'll definitely be in the events. I'll watch from the tournament stands. Yeah. I'll find them," she reassured herself. A familiar bulky figure came into her sight and Lynn lurched forward with excitement, "Vin--" she shouted but stopped herself when she realised that this wasn't her old friend. Her sudden exclamation had attracted attention. Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, Lynn stalked away from the crow and tried to find the place where spectators would be allowed to observe the tournament.

 

[Prrrgadilly]

Name: Markku Elof
Location: Entering Alcamoth
Time: Day 1 - 10:37AM

"We're finally here. I feared we would never get into the city in such a timely manner. Well, we are through the thick of it, and we can get you where you need to go." Markku had a friendly smile on his face as he leaned back from the carriage's window and let the curtain fall back into place. His eyes were now trained on a young street waif and her, apparently, ailing younger brother sitting across from him trying not to gawk at the practical extravagance of the carriage's interior. He'd picked them up on his ride into the city as he noted their distinctly miserable expressions, yet stubborn set of jaw and shoulders. "How is your brother faring?" He asked with a practiced concern that seemed genuine.

"Gettin' worse, m-milord." The bedraggled young girl replied with an immense interest in the state of her knees after meeting Markku's eyes accidentally. The blush on her pale cheeks had now spread to her shoulders. Her brother, who was curled into a tight ball on the seat beside her, was slowing emitting agonize groans as the pain in his stomach seemingly redoubled its efforts. It was all quite the show, and Marku had to admit that these children were quite the professionals. Luckily for him, he had experience with street rats, and facades, and could spot a con with surprising ease, which is exactly why he'd picked these children instead of the dozens of genuinely ailing children around them; he had need of them.

"Then we must not dally." Raising his cane, Markku tapped it against the roof of the carriage in a short staccato beat, which signaled a distinct need for celerity. Almost immediately, there was a slight tug as the carriage accelerated suddenly and continued at its new pace. "Well, my dear. I have found this rouse entertaining, but I procured you and your accomplice to talk business, not acquire tickets for the Sunday matinee." The glittering cheerfulness in Markku's swan gray eyes hardened into sharp steel without displacing his easy smile. Before the young girl could begin her unintelligible blabber about needing to leave, he held up his hand to silence her. There were tiny strings of electricity jumping between his fingers.

"Before you manage to bore me, allow me to clarify the situation." He lowered his hand as the last few sparks died away, the girl's eyes looked ready to escape from her head as her "brother" ceased his show and sat up in time to witness the small marvel and react in a similar fashion. "You two are con artists and pickpockets. I am a noble, and a mage, who is asking you to report back to your superiors, an to their superiors, with an important message. Understand so far?" He received two nods. "Excellent. Now, the message is really very simple. I plan to spend the next few days in the city and would like to do so in peace. No beggars, no charlatans, no poor children approaching me for a few coppers. Understand?" Another set of nods. Markku couldn't help but sigh as he could practically see the gears turning in their heads, trying to form some sort of escape plan.

"Of course, the Alcamoth Underground could decide to disregard my message, or try my patience by treading the line, but have them know that I will nor suffer their foolish games and will react in a fashion befitting my ire." If it was at all possible, the too youths eyes widen further as they stared at Markku in abject horror. It was obvious that they had stopped registering his words. He sighed heavily again; he should have chosen an older, more experienced, messenger. Oh, well. Youth is fleeting and the will surely learn a great deal from this. At that thought, Markku's eyes danced with cold laughter as the carriage stopped before a poor man's clinic that doubled as a shakedown house for wealthy, and stupid, bleeding hearts.

"Now, off you go. Delivery of my message is of the highest priority." He snapped his fingers in front of the children to regain their focus as thee door tot he carriage was opened. It took less than a second for the children to bolt from the carriage without a backwards glance. "Tsk, not even so much as a "thank you" for the taking the trouble." He chuckled as bright bolt of lightning fell from a clear sky and stuck the street several feet from the fleeing children. They were just close enough for the small bolt to knock them off their feet and raise every hair on their bodies. "You may keep that coin purse you stole as payment for services soon to be rendered. Oh, and my name is Markku Elof. Be sure to keep your end of the bargain children." Said children sat up in a daze and gazed at Markku blankly, fear slowly seeping back into their expressions as they recovered quickly from the slight stun of the bolt. There wouldn't even be lasting effects.

Markku gave the girl a charming wink before his door was closed and the carriage pulled away, setting a course for his townhouse. Sitting back in his seat with a content sigh, Markku prepared to enjoy a nice two days recovering from the trip before attending the wedding of the century and watching a tournament afterwards. Of course, he was sure there would be some kind of reprimand for using offensive magic within city limits, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. "I deserve a small vacation from serious life. I have been working far too hard recently." Actually giving himself a genuine smile, Markku began humming to himself softly as he pulled back the curtain and watched the city pass by, peacefully.

 

[Avari]

Name: "Old man Davey"
Location: Alcamoth Commons
Time: Day 1 - 10:45am

Davey yawned as the kettle boiled on the stove. He fed his cat, and then made up his flask. The herbs he had been given at the chapel by one of the attendants were supposed to help with old aches and pains.
"So, anyway...I left it where I found it. Down the back alley - in my shed." He said, bringing his story up to date, "I mean...it didn't seem to wanna be disturbed. So I thought - Y'know. Doin' no harm there. I'll leave it."
He took his thick jacket down off the door-peg in the little back kitchen of his house. It was an ancient little thing. Patched and repaired so many times he wasn't even sure if anything from the original jacket remained. His wife used to nag him about spending some silver to get a new one, he hadn't got around to it. She was gone now.


He missed her.

"Truth be told, it horrified me when I foun' it. I was gonna run to the guard - but then it looked at me, see? And I knew everythin' was gonna be alright." He placed the empty kettle back on the stove.

"...I suppose I better check on it," He said to his cat. His cat was fairly indifferent to the whole story, more interested in licking its paws.
"You be all right here for a while won't cha?" The cat glanced up at him for a moment, then resumed its cleaning. He wasn't talking to the cat anyway. He was talking to the small painting in the hall. But he always pretended he was talking to the cat, because if you talked to pictures - well, you were crazy weren't you?

He put on his cap and patted the pockets of his old jacket. His wife used to put a bit of dried jerky in his pocket for him to eat - not anymore. She had died a few years ago. Healers couldn't save her. Said she had some sort of wasting disease. That it was complicated. He had to agree with that - as complications went, dying was probably one of the harder ones to fix. He went out into the main street.

The sounds of laughter and music. Of hammer on wood. They were building stalls for the fate. People were excited. He wasn't - He'd lived through three royal weddings. They were all the same as far as he was aware. There was no one down the back streets though - which was a bit odd. No doubt everyone was already celebrating, or maybe they just had other places to be. It was all the same to Davey. He sighed as he passed one of the small allotments - tiny bits of land that some of the locals owned to grow some fruit and vegetables. It looked like some of the local thugs had been there again. Empty bottles on the ground. Couple of the fences were broken. Davey always kept a tub of paint handy - should they ever think to decorate his shed again.

Davey waddled up to the shed and undid the padlock. He was rather proud of his shed - had built it half a decade ago. Still held up well.

It was still there, where he had left it, popped up in his wheelbarrow, angled a bit if it was looking right out the grimy window with it's single bulbous eye.

"Uh...you all right then?" He asked.

It made no response. Like his cat.

"I was...uh. I was wonderin' if you had a name." Davey said. "Y'know. Just be be...civil. I'm Davey see? Old man Davey. Friends call me Nobby."

The creature gave a small gurgle.

"Daft name I agree. Had it for years. Used to serve in his majesty's army. Fine days. Didn't mind the nickname honestly, I was glad to be noticed."

Another gurgle. A slight change of pitch.

Davey nodded. "How about a cuppa tea?"

 

[Larry]

Name: Dominicanes de Ecclesia
Location: Grand Library
Time: Day 1 - 10:45 AM.

Dominicanes found himself once again scouring for books on various topics that would interest a scholastic Cleric; books on the holy Trinity, the War of Cinders, the Cult of Myrkul and the nature of the being himself, all brought a genuine thirst in the young man. After finding certain tomes that he had been looking for, he began to shuffle through them at a rapid pace, his good memory being able to memorise the most seminal points in all of the works. It's been a dream of his to ink a tome regarding the theology of the Church in regards to how it arose, setting a keen focus on Meyneth, the prophetess whose teaching would lay the foundation to be appear in the form it is most commonly recognised as of today. Sometimes I wonder to myself, Dominicanes think to himself, staring around at his brethren who were also quite invested in their own various intellectual studies, does the Church even have a theology after all? Not that Dominicanes would ever entertain the notion of heretical thoughts, the Trinity forbid, but it seemed as of late that the Church's only rule was to believe, for the opposite was to be hunted by the dreaded Inquisitors. Tapping his finger against his cranium impetuously, his thoughts delved even more in the subject; nobody believes for the sake of believing, people believe because it is necessary to believe, they have a duty. But, if there is no particular reason, no doctrine to explain to people how to believe properly, to inoculate them against the allure of heresy, what purpose does faith serve? His obvious display of contemplation seemed to have aroused the other Clerics from their righteous studies, much to Dominicanes' surprise.

"Forgive me my brothers and sisters," he uttered half-solemnly, half embarrassed, "I didn't know that I was so lost in thought; such is the result of pondering the sacred mysteries of the blessed Trinity!" What amounted to a silent affirmation of his statement, the other Clerics returned to their routine, as if nothing had happened at all, much to Dominicanes' joy. After compiling a few notes on the various books he had collected a few minutes ago, he returned them and made his way out of the Grand Library...or so he would have thought, had not a fellow Cleric of whom he was too familiar with caught his arm, preventing from leaving the confines too quickly, as quick as a man with a limp can walk. His name was Sixtus, a good friend of his whom he had met when they both began their studies to become clerics; they often had differing views on a wide variety of topics but nonetheless respected each others ideas, enjoining the fact that a relationship can grow sullen with the spark of animosity. Their most recent debates tended around the idea the policy of the Church in regards to how it should deal with those have apostatised from the faith; and it was no doubt, in Dominicanes mind, that it was going to be the topic of discussion now that their eyes have each other within their gaze.

"Ah, Dominicanes, I was actually looking for you my friend," he quipped, a somewhat muted smile appearing on his, taking heed of the place were they were conversing, "The last debate was somewhat inconsequential, but in regards to what we have to discuss today, I believe has the highest importance." This caused a smirk to split open Dominicanes' face; he knew how competitive Sixtus could be whenever they had their debates and it always fun to see him rise to the occasion only for, lest the former be caught too prideful, to humble once again.

"You don't seem to learn brother, do you?" he laughed, ushering his fellow Cleric out of the Grand Library, guiding him to a bench were they could continue their discussion unabated by the imposing silence of their brethren, "Let me presume, you wish to talk about how the Church is right in their brutal suppression of the heretics; and you wonder why I have thus called you and all those who affirm the same view as Brutalists."

"Aye, you've read my mind Dominicanes," he replied, fixing him with a resolute gaze, sure enough sign that he was ready to expound his position, "To get the proceedings underway, we must establish a common premise here; that heretics, especially those that belong to the abominable cult of Myrkul, are wicked creatures and thus the Church must exploit every known resource in order to combat the spread of such occultism, for it is mortal nature for the mind to wander and to seek out things contrary to common sense."

"On this, we agree," Dominicanes affirmed.

"However," Sixtus said, raising his hand to further emphasise the point, "To say that the Church should let these denizens of darkness be free from any sort of punishment is absurd. Do you not realise that it was because of such men that the War of Cinders occured? The destruction of Odania? The Church is correct in her position to smite these apostates from the face of the earth, that their demise should come as a warning who deign to follow them into perdition. But you, my dear Reconcilist, believe they should be brought not only back into the ranks of the Church, but ought to receive more attention than those who have remained faithful in loyalty to the Church and in reverence to the Gods. What say you Dominicanes?" The latter was genuinely surprised; Sixtus brought a fervour armed with reason to this debate in a way that he has never seen before in the various other arguments that has defined their relationship. He also knew that this issue was very important to all ranks of the Church, especially those who have lost loved ones to heretics. However, the loss of life should never be justification to imitate those who have committed such barbarism; it would only debase the holy to the level of fanatics and fundamentalists, and thus would show proper improper reverence to the Gods.

"So, if this being the result, would you feel satisfied?" He questioned him, the zeal of his friend rubbing off on Dominicanes it seemed, "That a soul that could have been salvaged, rescued from the stain of apostasy, has now been flung into perpetual darkness, no longer walking in the light? No is denying that they should not be punished; of course these wayward souls ought to be subjected to penance, but in such a manner as is appropriate that it would make them aware of their error and not to harden their hearts to further penance lest it would be too severe. Now let me ask this of you, which is better for the heretic; to be brought back into communion with the Church or to die as one estranged from the truth, losing the grace of the Gods?"

Thus, the two continued to argue, in the broad daylight of the morning sun.

(Open to interaction, however Pai Chan , since our characters are so contrasting, if you want to have an interaction it would be no problem!)

 

[Pai Chan]

Location: Church of Light
Time: Day 1 - 10:30 A.M.
​

There were days that were calm and serene. With the steady activity of clerics going about the church performing duties they were assigned. Even then the halls of the church would still have a quietness about them that made it easy to get lost in one's thoughts. But recently the halls of the church were all but quiet. Even the silent part of the church were sparked with activity now that there was an important event on the horizon.

Aurora personally didn't mind the increased activity for it also meant an increase in numbers of people visiting the church. It is something that the woman let herself enjoy seeing. All manner of people; elves, humans, and maybe even the rare dwarf or two would enter the church seeking answers for questions only the divine gods could answer. And often Aurora, herself, would be called by name.

Aurora was a mage that specialized in healing the sick and wounded. So it was not a surprise if the woman was called upon by an individual or family that couldn't afford the doctors in Alcamoth. It was one of the only ways Aurora would see a person seeking her. The wealthy could afford someone to make them better. The less fortunate needed a place of hope to look to.

There were two times a day Aurora would open her services to the common folk. Sometimes she made an exception if it was an emergency. She enjoyed what she did and enjoyed meeting the people and helping them. It normally gave them a rise in faith to the church and its gods. But everyone was not as kind as those seeking help. Sometimes there was a person that didn't quite know their place and showed it. Aurora was known to be quite confrontational and she, herself, knew it was a trait not many sat comfortable with. And today was a day that it came to surface again and why Aurora thanked the busier-than-usual activity to distract her mind from reflecting. But even so, the events were not far behind her and would plague her recent memories for quite some time.


Aurora was walking the busy streets with a couple Paladins as escorts when she overheard a couple of men talking among themselves. They spouted off about how they believed the church was corrupted. It was to be expected since the city was now filled with many from all over. Not everyone would believe in the integrity of the church. But when Aurora heard an insult about the Grand Cleric being a whore, the mage seemed to move on her own.

She quickly and aggressively forced her way through the crowd and unsheathed her one handed blade from its scabbard and before the paladins could stop her, had the point of the sword pressed against one of the men's chest. No doubt the commotion gathered all manner of attention but at the moment it was just Aurora and the two men.

"You speak blasphemy against, not only the church but also against one of the Holy Councilors, The Grand Cleric? I don't think there's any amount of ale that can make a man drunk enough to be that stupid to do such a thing in Alcamoth and in a public place." Aurora felt a gentle hand on her should and saw one of the paladins wordlessly urging her to stand down. It was then that Aurora seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in and realize what she had done. She quickly sheathed her sword and gave one last glare between the two men. "I spare the two of you, only because it is a time of celebration. But I will remember your faces and I hope to not catch either of ye doing something stupid again. Not while you're in the capital. Am I understood?" The two drunks frantically nodded as she left to return to the church. She had enough of being among the crowd of people for one day, if not until the ceremony was over.


And that now led Aurora back to where she was now. Doing the very thing she had hoped to avoid. All she could think about was the punishment she would undoubtedly receive from the council for her outburst in public. Amidst her daydreaming the mage found her way walking towards the library when a couple of clerics caught her ear.

"Now let me ask this of you, which is better for the heretic; to be brought back into communion with the Church or to die as one estranged from the truth, losing the grace of the Gods?" The question to Aurora was clear but she knew of this cleric. He believed in giving people a chance. Dominicanes was a polar opposite of Aurora and it always bothered her that someone like him had influence in the church.

"I feel the answer should be obvious, Dominicanes." Aurora started as she approached the two clerics. "I'm sure it is mercy on the heretics that led to the Dark Ages in the first place. I say, learn from history. We can't afford to let people slide when they've clearly done something against the rules. We don't want a second War of Cinders on our hands." Aurora paused for a moment before speaking again to the man. "Are you and Sixtus done with your duties you've been assigned? Since the two of you are sitting here rather comfortably while most others are setting up for the ceremony." Aurora asked in a confrontational manner. Most knew of her dislike of Dominicanes' way of thinking and because of this didn't really find herself liking the man. It was practically automatic for her to lash out against him whether she consciously wanted to or not.

(@Larry)

 

[The_Omega_Effect]

Name:Andwyn Rhaegon

Location: The Great Church of Light
Time: 10: 30 am

A sigh left Andwyn's mouth just as soon as he entered the stair case to the High Scholar's office. It seemed that this time he had avoided getting in any more trouble with the church than he already way. At this point, it almost felt to him that a person was watching him like a hawk, ready to kick him out of the organisation at a moment's notice. But he knew that as long as he did not do anything wrong, the "holy and the righteous" members of the church would stand up for him or something. Andwyn did not really plan ahead when it came to things like this. He did not plan anything else either. That was the reason as to why if it were not for his already energetic character, he would drop to the floor and start napping.

He always disliked walking up the stairs. "Why did those old farts have to build these so high?" he thought. He wondered how their feet did not crumble off every time they walked up these. But then again, they mostly stood in their rooms and enjoyed watching young clerics like him suffer. At least thats what Andwyn assumed. With a final step, he came up to the floor where the High Scholar's room and knocked on his door. His heavy panting could be heard on the other side.

"Come in."

He opened the door and left the heavy book on the old man's table. The Scholar himself was reaching for a book high up in the book shelf with a ladder. Andwyn contemplated whether he should knock over the ladder and have the old man die or not. But he did not want to be caught by some magic bullshit the church was kind of known to pull.

"Ahh, you're the Rhaegon boy. I do believe you have properly transcribed the book."

"Yes. Its all here" He took another breath as a sign of his exhaustion and continued. "I did everything, even the citations and whatnot." He then opened the book.

The Scholar was not surprised by Andwyn being tired out. He walked over to his desk and placed the book he had just gotten on it. He then started to flip through the pages of Andwyn's work and looked upon it.

"You wrote all of this last night didn't you?"

"Wha-n-no. I uhh... started a few days ago. I was up all night...celebrating the wedding early Of course." He then put on a smile and started to laugh a little bit.

The scholar shook his head and continued. "You are given a month to do these. You must understand that procrastinating like so will get you nowhere. It seems that you have done an adequate job with this transcription. I shall have it admitted back in the library where its previous version was. Report to me in a few days and I shall have another job for you. Now carry on with studying."

Without listening to what the scholar last said, Andwyn had already left. The sound of the door slamming was responded to by the old man with him shaking his head. But Andwyn did not care as that burden was lifted off of his shoulders. He then had no idea what to do for the rest of the day. He figured that he might go for a drink, practice his archery or even get to be friends with a few of the church people. He was not the only Cleric there after all.

As he got on the stairs he climbed them halfway down. He then looked around him to make sure nobody was there. Andwyn then got on the railing to get a much faster way down. He started to slide down the railing of the stairs, but his speed got too great from him to control. He made one final attempt to jump off the railing and stick the landing on the ground floor. Like everything, this final attempt of his failed as he landed on his back. He stood up and brushed himself off before exiting to the main hall. A few people gave him looks, all of which containing a bit of surprise as to how Andwyn was still in the church.

Andwyn slowly made his way through the many people that were inside the church. It seemed that the preparations for the weddings and whatnot had not slowed down in any way. He did not take a liking to many people being in the same place at the same time. But that was not a concern as he no longer had a reason to remain.

There were a variety of paladins, clerics and overall the fighters of the church, collected outside. The city was only getting busies with the wedding coming up. In the corner of his eye, he could see two of his fellow clerics arguing over something. He was not surprised one bit. The church had people from all sorts of backgrounds inside the cleric group. No wonder two had conflicting opinions on a certain subject. With nothing else to do with his time, he decided that it would be best for him to pop over and say hello at the very least.

As he got close, he could recognised the two figures that were arguing. Although he did not know much about them personally, he could at least make out their faces and what not. Aurora, who was a prominent healer of the church, was arguing with the slightly less prominent guy. If anything he was one of the few people more controversial than himself due to how he thought differently than a lot of the old farts of the church. And even some of the new farts. Andwyn could not quite remember his name though. He hated people with long convoluted names and hate the people who liked hearing the whole thing even more. Referring to the man as just "Dom" would make things certainly a lot easier.

"I see this conversation is getting quite heated up." Andwyn said as he approached the two. "Why don't we all just relax and talk it over lunch? Eh?"

Larry Pai Chan

(Sorry for any errors with diction, grammar and etc. No time to fix it now.)

 

[Larry]

Name: Dominicanes de Ecclesia
Location: Church of Light
Time: 10:30 AM.

Sixtus was about to reply when a brusque retort caught his ears. "I feel the answer should be obvious, Dominicanes." The sentence was attributed to Aurora, a prominent Cleric within the Church and a healer of the highest calibre; it did not help to mention that she could be seen as being the one person that held everything Dominicanes thought about the Church's policy towards heretics in contempt. She made her way towards the two young clerics, graceful with an air of ferocity and latent zealousness. "I'm sure it is mercy on the heretics that led to the Dark Ages in the first place. I say, learn from history. We can't afford to let people slide when they've clearly done something against the rules. We don't want a second War of Cinders on our hands." While Dominicanes was very much in support of the last remark, to blatantly categorise such an event occurring due to the relative laxness of the Church at the time towards heretics would be gross hyperbole. You don't seem to possess a very positive image of human nature Aurora, Dominicanes thought to himself while gazing upon Aurora, seeing her eyes filled with ire by the mere presence of him; it was much the same for the former. "Are you and Sixtus done with your duties you've been assigned? Since the two of you are sitting here rather comfortably while most others are setting up for the ceremony." Catching Sixtus' eye, he rose from the bench they were sitting at, noticing the retinue of Paladins that surrounded the esteemed Cleric.

"You'll be delighted to know, that given it to be such a wondrous occasion, I made a commitment to rise early from sleep to get my specific preparations done," Dominicanes replied, with the slight appearance of one-upping her in his voice, much to his chagrin, "Sixtus on the other hand, I don't know. Sixtus?" A spark of realisation sparked in the eyes of his friend, rising promptly from the bench with a blush creeping its way onto his face. "It is fortunate that you reminded me most honourable Aurora, I will now hurry to complete my duties; farewell my sister, Dominicanes." With emphasis placed on the last word, Sixtus saluted Aurora and raced off into the distance, with the creeping blush well established in his face now. He wasn't sure whether it was from forgetting to remember his duties on this day of all days or whether it was due to being in the presence of whom she could be called his 'superior in opinion'. Aurora was very much the bastion of what was termed the Brutalist position in the Church and for this stance, she was very much in the good books of the rest of the Clerics; Dominicanes, not so much. The latter was seemingly an interloper, the most derogatory comment he hath received being that he was a 'mouthpiece for Myrkul in the confines of the holy Church itself'. Not that he wasn't used to such slurs but believed it was necessary that an opposing view be brought across the faithful find the Church to be an ever-watching bogeyman. For this, he needs to rise to the challenge.

"I assume your duties have been fulfilled have they Aurora?" Dominicanes asked in an equal measure of confrontation, since they both seem to bring a great fire out in each other, "Since Sixtus has to attend to other business, would you care to take his place in this argument? Trust me, his positions are a mirror image of yours." The young Cleric grimaced at the way in which he was beginning to speak, it was starting to sound very petty and unbecoming of his rank. But there was something deeply disturbing about the fervour which Aurora possessed in his opinion, that under a circumstance where (Gods forbid) he had strayed away from the Church and found himself under the thrall of heretics, he could expect no mercy. Dominicanes believed that those heretics that pried themselves away from the Church, once reconciled and after undergoing penance of various kinds, could prove to be very valuable in deterring others from such a choice if they found themselves in such an occasion to choose such a regrettable option. But with opinions of the like possessed by Sixtus and Aurora, that will never be the case, he thought regretfully but that was going to be the way unless he somehow convinces people of the opposite view, that mercy is greater than justice.

"How far would you take this justice of yours Aurora?" he inquired of her, narrowing his eyes as he often does in his debates, "If a man or woman were to prostrate themselves before you, admitting that they committed a heinous, foolish act in choosing to abstain from proper communion with the Church in favour of the company of heretics, if they confessed the wish to be re-admitted into the Church with the necessary penance they would have to undergo, even going so far as to pen a written statement accusing themselves of great error and having returned to proper orthodoxy, would you slay them where they stood? Do you not even see a semblance of yourself in these poor creatures, to have fallen so far from the light? Would you be so merciless if it were your fa-!"

"I see this conversation is getting quite heated up. Why don't we all just relax and talk it over a drink? Eh?"

Dominicanes turned to see who it was that refrained him from saying anything exceedingly incendiary; a man with golden locks that fell around his head, hovering just above his cerulean blue eyes. Dominicanes recalled this particular Cleric on a few occasions and recalled his name being mentioned on a few of those instances; in fact, former seemed to recall seeing him drop off a particular parcel earlier. Andwyn, Dominicanes inwardly deduced, obviously happy that he remembered more than the face for a change, his name is Andwyn. It was a good thing he intervened when he did, for if Dominicanes had continued his tract against Aurora, he might have found himself en route to the infirmary and missing the ceremony and for one as dutiful and so full of respect for his vocation as he was, it would have been a great dishonour.

"Oh Andwyn," Dominicanes uttered, still somewhat ashamed of himself for getting so riled up, "Yes, you're correct, the debate was getting very heated so I thank you for interrupting when you did. If we have time to spare, I would be very much up for a drink, to calm the nerves so to speak."

( The_Omega_Effect , Pai Chan , interaction is open if anyone wants to get involved!)

 

[Avari]

Name: Lissa Veseere
Location: Alcamoth shopping district.
Time: 10:30am



They were sitting outside the Gypsy’s Gaze tavern and watching the street outside. Lissa had previously dragged her Elven companion here for what she had assumed was for an evening jolly - recognition for the hard work they had put in during the last trip, when Lissa had somehow convinced the rogue to be dragged across Enderach in search of improbable treasure. Fat chance, Salia had realized afterwards - it was just that the Gypsy’s Gaze afforded a clear view of the main entrance to Alcamoth shopping district, and it had been ideal for spotting a vagrant Human that had a rather sizeable bounty on his head. She probably should have guessed when she saw Lissa carrying her bow, several meters of rope and her sword Persuasion rather than her violin. Bards like Lissa usually had several lines of work, and she was certainly no different - In the end, Salia hadn’t even had the chance to finish her chicken.

Now they both took the same pavement table as that earlier night. A couple of drunken Elves leered at them from an adjacent table - In Lissa’s case that was sort of understandable. She was incredibly pretty (By human standards), all flaming hair and dark brown eyes that practically danced with humor. She moved with a skip in her step, and there was usually a small smirk on her face as if she was enjoying some sort of private joke.

By sitting next to her, Salia got the same clear view of the street, ideal on a sunny day like today. Shoppers were bustling about with too little time and too many bags as they stocked up on food and wine for the upcoming celebrations.

She and Lissa were served by the same good-looking waiter who had served Salia on their last visit. Her mental notebook (So many humans looked the same) told her he was called “Tran”. Early thirties, was actually a sailor but was spending a few years in Alcamoth to save up money for a new boat. Lissa teased him that his tan was fading. Tran could swear in Elvish, Salia discovered - but he didn’t seem to mind Lissa slapping his backside as he stopped to deliver their drinks. Salia had sage water, Lissa had a mug of Ale. Salia had given up trying to lecture the bard on her daytime drinking.

Lissa paid for the drinks as soon as they arrived, placing a few silver coins onto the table.

“Means we can run whenever we gotta,” Lissa explained to her when she asked. “Tran’s too cute for me to rip off...or steal one of his glasses.”

Salia fingered the coins on the table. “Exact change...no tip?”

“He’s not that cute.”

Throughout this, Lissa’s eyes never left the street. She obviously wasn’t going to her target slip away while they made conversation. Salia sighed. “Who are we looking for again?”

“Grorbath.”

The Elven rogue blinked in surprise. “Wasn’t he one of the Dwarves who came with us to those ruins in Elderach?”

Lissa gave a nod. Salia rose an eyebrow. It had been a pretty successful trip, all things considered. They had only lost two of the human mercenaries who had accompanied them to a Golem that she had told them repeatedly not to tamper with. Grorbath had been a reliable warrior - a Cleric, looking at making his name amongst scholars for any discovery he could find. Rather pleasant company too, if she recalled correctly - which deepened her curiosity. He hadn’t seemed the type to double cross anyone.

“What he do?”

“You remember we agreed to split any relics we had found between us?”

“Yes?”

“He didn’t.” Lissa took a deep gulp of her ale, still not looking away from the street. “One of the Clerics was in the Tavern last night, drunk - started ranting about how Grorbath was boasting about a magical ring he found in a ruin. Was trying to get my attention I think. Bless his heart.”

Salia frowned. “He must have hid it from us - and this is the main route to the Chapel...so he’ll be coming this way sooner or later.”

“Excellent deduction.” Lissa purred.

“You can just explain these things to me, y’know.” Humans were annoying sometimes.

“-and miss the chance to see your cute thinking face?” Lissa smirked and favoured her elven friend with a quick wink, which made the tips of her pointed ears go red.

“Shut up.”

The two women continued to snipe at each other as Tran brought them more drinks.

But Lissa’s eyes never left the street.

 

[Pai Chan]

​

"I assume your duties have been fulfilled have they Aurora?" Dominicanes asked after Sixtus made his leave.

"I am always responsible to make sure my duties are completed before I socialize. Like you, I was also up quite early to get a head start on what I needed to do." She gave Domincanes a smile that was the furthest from being genuine.

"Since Sixtus has to attend to other business, would you care to take his place in this argument? Trust me, his positions are a mirror image of yours." Aurora had to keep herself from scowling. Her day already took a bad turn and now this cleric was asking for more interaction. Aurora could only blame herself since it was her that decided to add in to the conversation in the first place. So she reluctantly agreed but remained standing where she was.

"I'm surprised that you seem to find my way hard to understand. It is your way of thinking that is making everything complicated. It is having people question what rules to follow and that is where problems begin. If someone breaks the law then they should be punished accordingly. Heretics are much like a sickness. If you leave it be then it spreads. It is why there should be no room for questioning. That is what the church stands for. To keep order and justice."

"How far would you take this justice of yours Aurora?" he inquired of her, narrowing his eyes as he often does in his debates, "If a man or woman were to prostrate themselves before you, admitting that they committed a heinous, foolish act in choosing to abstain from proper communion with the Church in favour of the company of heretics, if they confessed the wish to be re-admitted into the Church with the necessary penance they would have to undergo, even going so far as to pen a written statement accusing themselves of great error and having returned to proper orthodoxy, would you slay them where they stood? Do you not even see a semblance of yourself in these poor creatures, to have fallen so far from the light? Would you be so merciless if it were your fa-!"

"I see this conversation is getting quite heated up. Why don't we all just relax and talk it over a drink? Eh?"

Aurora was furious and barely even heard the other approaching cleric when he spoke up over the blood boiling in her ears. There was no doubt Dominicanes thought Aurora was some type of monster or immoral creature. And her actions obviously deeply troubled the man to the point of him lashing out against the mage. It was true that Aurora had seen to families being separated. Even having people put to death. She knew it wasn't something that would paint her in a positive light with everyone. Often doing what was just would make people fear her. Aurora could see it in the eyes of some of the people of Alcamoth what passing by. But she didn't do what she did to be loved or praised. She did it because it must be done.

"Oh Andwyn," Dominicanes' voice snapped Aurora out of her thoughts and she finally looked to the man that cut into their conversation. It was a man named Andwyn. This time Aurora couldn't hide the sneer she gave off.

First Dominicanes and now Andwyn. Aurora thought. Am I to meet every cleric that seemed to slip through the cracks to become part of the church? Andwyn had a reputation that made most clerics surprised he was still among their ranks and not kicked out all together. Aurora wondered the same thing. She normally went out of her way to avoid the man if she could help it. But now here he was. "Yes, you're correct, the debate was getting very heated so I thank you for interrupting when you did. If we have time to spare, I would be very much up for a drink, to calm the nerves so to speak."

"I will probably regret this but I do suppose I have nothing else to do today. Maybe Dominicanes can finish what he intended on saying. I'd love to hear what it was so I can better understand why he seems to be in favor of sparking a rebellion. He has all of the characteristics of someone who would." Aurora started walking, leading the way out of the church and towards a tavern that was quite popular. At least there if she hurt someone then she'd just blame the drinks.

 

[Keidivh]

Name: Crow/Lynn Drewrith/Belegor Ironhammer/"Dain of Cythera"
Location: Upper Class Streets
Time: 10:30 a.m.

Crows party marched on through the cities streets, all excited and ready for the up comming tournamnet that would make their funds much more heavier. Crow scanned the cities streets with a small smirk as he watched the people walk along with joyful smiles and laugh as they enjoyed their companions company. He chuckled and glanced back at his men and felt his smirk grow at their loud banter between each other. Memories of his old party slowly swept through his mind and gave a chuckle.

As Crow remembered the good old days one of his veteran party members, Vail was at the back of the party converseing with another member about the tournament before his attention was taken away by a females voice. "Vin-" the voiced ceased itself, but Vail was able to spot the owners voice. A female elf with a dark cloak had been trying to grab the captains attention, but stopped and seemed to try to slip away while flipping her hood over her head. His grey eyes narrowed towards the strange elf and tightened his grip on his spear as he tapped onto his fellow members arm. "Oi, follow me. I see someone fuuny looking eyeing the captain," he said as he pointed his spear towards the now hooded elf. His comapnion raised an eyebrow and looked towards Vails target before giving a nod.

Vail grunted as he redirected his mount in the elfs direction. People quickly made way for the two mounted mercenaries and watched with wonder at their agressive looks on their faces. "Oi! The elf in the cloak, stop right there!" he cried out and gestured with his spear for his comrade to flank around her. He noded and gave his mount a light kick to pick up the pace. He quickly cut off the hooded elf and rested his hand onto his sheathed sword.

"You heard him, stop," he growled as Vail reached the two. Vail stopped near the elf and glared down at her.

"You, elf, explain why you eye our captain in such a suspicious way," he ordered in a agressive tone.

Lynn quickly spun on her heel, her hood slipping off her head in the process and revealing her white hair which glowed in the sun. The look of surprise on her face formed into a scowl. Looking at the people who had stopped her, she recognised the man who she had mistaken for Vincent. She had been so excited at the thought of finding her old teammate that she hadn't properly examined the man. With hand on hip, the elf glared up at the accosters. "Well, if you must know, I'd simply mistaken him for someone in my old explorer party. Me, him and the others plan to go to the Deludge Wetlands," she said smugly. Returning to her rude manner, she added, "So lay off!"

As the mercenaries confronted the young cloaked elf, a pair of sharp emerald eyes glared harshly at them. Belegor had decided to simply trail behind the mercenaries on their way to the arena, figuring that seeing their faces when they found out the tournament wasn't for another two days would be worth a laugh while he signed up himself. Of course his potential fun was ruined when he saw a couple of the mercs decide to be pricks, harassing some Elven lass who did nothing more than call out to their presumed leader before walking away. Seeing a couple of armed thugs harassing a defenseless woman for kicks. Upon returning to Alcamoth some years ago Belegor had discovered that some local gang had taken to harassing Dhalia and her mother, forcing them to pay 'protection'. The gang had dissappeared over night, their bodies found a few days later after the stench had become so putrid residents nearby could smell it.

Before he could act, the girl said something particularly interesting. Namely her desire to go to the Deluge Wetlands. If she had a group capable of such a task, it would go a long way in claiming retirbution. Stroking his burly blonde beard in thought for a momentas the blonde haired Elf attempted to explain herself, Belegor decided that he had enough of this bullshit and would deal with the Wetlands part later. Striding into the middle of the group, hammer resting on his shoulder, the burly Dwarf stood in between the mercs and the Elf, a casual smile on his face. "Greetings lads! Fine day we got for ourselves eh? Perfect really, was gonna go for a stroll, stop and grab a cold pint of ale. But then I see something that just gets my beard all twisted up, I see a couple of mercenary bastards harassing some unarmed Elven lass cause it makes them feel like they don't have tiny pricks. Now I'm not so happy." The friendly smile slowly faded as Belegor spoke, his deep voice taking a harsh edge as his face fell into an irritated frown.

"So here's what I think should happen, you two beardless welps apologize to this fine lass, and trot after your boss like the good pups you are so we can all get back to enoying our day. That understood laddies?" As if to silence any argument, he hefted his hammer off his shoulder, driving its head onto the ground with a resounding thud that nearly cracked the cobbled road beneath, a few passerbys now slowing to gaze at this sudden confrontation.

The hammer's thud echoed through the street, before finally coming to Dain. The man was towards the back of quickly forming 'spectators' who had begun to crowd near where the dwarf and mercenaries stood. Dain honestly didn't care to much about it. Just some fools getting ready to fight over honor. The thief snorted to himself at the thought. Suddenly, Dain would feel a light tugging on his tunic, and turning around, would find one of his little watchers standing there, her eyes practically popping out of her head they were so big. "Mister spider, I's got a message from a noble fella. Said he didn't want no beggars on the steet while he's here, and made a big ol' thing a lightning go and land next to Margey and Mic."

The man crouched down next to her, a hand placed on each shoulder. "Did he say anything about a payment, or an offer? Or did he decide to command us to get them off the street?" He asked the little girl in a serious tone. After a few moment's, the girl told him. "Commanded. Oh, and he said his name was something silly. Markku or somethin'" the thief nodded, pressing a few coppers into her hand before taking his gold purse back as she ran off. Cute kid. Lousy pickpocket.

With this new information, Dain would stand back up, and pressed his hand to his chin as the thought on what to do. He needed to retaliate, that much was obvious. If he didn't, Dain knew that he'd have a dagger in his back by the end of the night, and Kimble back on the throne. He could already feel that bastard's creepy fucking eye staring him up and down. By the sound of it, this Markku would be a hassle. He couldn't trust Kimble with this, to dangerous, and the man made Dain look like an amateur. Perhaps someone from the Gophers? Naw, those bastards would want a hundred gold at least.

After a few moments, Dain realized that he had slowly gotten closer to the front of the crowd, to the point that he could now see the source of the crowd. A dwarf, two men, and an elf woman. From the crowd's whisperings, Dain gathered that the two men were mercenaries, who had decided to accost the elf girl for mistaking someone's identity, while the dwarf was a third party there to 'defend' the girl. The men seemed like idiots, but the elf and dwarf seemed interesting. The girl looked lithe and nimble, perhaps a thief. The Spiders could always use more thieves. The dwarf on the other hand was the perfect muscle. Strong, but easily hidden.

Forgetting his mage problem for a moment, Dain would break from the crowd, entering the middle. "Now fellas, isn't this all just a big misunderstanding? This is something that should be settled over a pint, not in the streets! Come on, I'll pay! And between you and me, I can already see a paladin or two and some guards coming over to investigate." Sure enough, a mixed patrol of guards and paladins had noticed the forming crowd, and were proceeding toward them quickly.

Vail and Butch glared at the two new strangers and gripped their weapons much tighter. "Listen here you pint sized dwarf, I have killed many of your kin without trouble so you will be no different! Mind your own buisness before my spear finds a new home within your chest!" he snarled while Butch directed his attention towards the other stranger who tried to sttle things with a pint.

"And you, mind your buisness! This is between us and that damned elf who wants to cause our captain trouble!" he barked while unsheathing his sword half way. While this was all happening a young Lox had picked up on the commotion as he went down the parties line to make sure everything was in order. He looked to Vail and Butch surrounded by a crowd with that same battle read look in their eyes.

"Oh hell," Lox mumbled as he watched Vail and Butch at it again. He shook his head and spurred his horse forward towards the front of the party to cathc up with Crow. As he reached a close enough distance he called out to his captain. "Sir! SIr, we have a problem!" Crow looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at the worried looking Lox before noticing the crow with Vail and his old mate Butch causing trouble, again. Crow groaned and held his fist up into the air to halt the party as he steered his mount in the direction of the large crowd.

"Lox bring a few of your boys with us, rest of you watch over the cart!" he barked as he spurred his mount forwards with a grunt. Lox called out to three of his men and they quickly followed their captain. The a few members of the crowd saw Crow, but most just watched on. Crow growled and took in a deep breath before letting his presence being known to all.

"Oi! Vail, Butch you damned slobbering old hounds!" he bellowed with his authority clear in his voice. Both Vail and Butch cringed at their captains voice and looked at each other before looking back to their captain as he exited the crowd and came to a stop in the middle of the commotion. He tightened the grip on his sowrd and glared at the two behind his helmet. They may have not been able to see his eyes, but they knew he was upset. The air was silent for a few seconds before Crow cleared his throat and spoke in a low annoyed voice. "Vail, Butch, what is the meaning of this disturbance?" Vail looked at his leader for a few seconds, then to the elf and back to him.

"Sir, I have reasons to believe that this elf has ill intentions towards you. I am only doing what I believe is right-" he was cut off by Crows raised hand and ceased his defence as his leader looked towards the elf. Crows eyebrow raised as he inspected the elf and felt a smirk crawl onto his face. He chuckled for a second before bursting out into a deep harty laugh. His men and a few of the people watching were caught off guard by his sudden fit of laughter. He had seemed ready to behead his men a second ago, but now he was laughing with such amusemnet one would think someone had told the funniest joke in the world.

After what had felt like hours of Crows laughter he slowly came to a stop and looked back to Vail. "My friend, I thank you for being so ready to defend me, but I doubt this elf can do much harm to anyone in our party," he said gesturing towards the elf.

"But captain-" he was cut off again by Crows hand and lowered his head in defeat.

"Vail, Butch, head back to the cart while I clean up your small mess, we will talk later," he commanded as he spotted the guards heading their way. Vail and Butch were quick to follow their captions orders and made their way through the crowds and towards the rest of the party. Crow sighed and shook his head as he looked towards the elf. "Sorry about that, old Vail there has a bad taste for elfs. Though now that I think about it he has a bad taste for all races. Guess that is the burden of being old," he joked with a shrug. "Anyway, hope they were not such a burden for a lass such as yourself. If I can make up for their trouble I will treat you to a few drinks once I win the tournament," he said with a smirk as he bowed his head. "The names is Crow by the way, captain Crow of the Roaming Jackals., plesure to meet you"

He then looked to the two other strangers and gave another quick bow of his head. "Also, thanks for stepping in, those two have a history of causeing trouble and it has gotten us into a bit of trouble with some powerful people. If you are up to it I will also treat you to a pint once I win my earnings," he smiled under his helmet and looked towards the coming guards. "But first I have to deal with them," he mumbled before the group of guards and palidins finally made their way through the crowd.

The elf remained silent while the others spoke but she was slowly getting angrier and angrier. Lynn already hated the first men who approached her—she believed they were called 'Vail' and 'Butch' based on what their captain addressed them as—and the person who she mistook for Vincent wasn't really growing on her either. She had already reached her boiling point when the captain of the party burst out into laughter. The gaze on her face was iron. "You 'doubt this elf can do much harm'?" she said in a low voice. Her arms were crossed and she stared down at the man as he bowed.

According to his introduction, this man was the leader of a group called 'the Roaming Jackals'. She'd heard her old teammate talk about this group before but, at the time, she wasn't interested in any group other than her own. The elf fixed her cesious eyes on the bulky figure before her. "Lynn. Enderarch Explorers," went her terse introduction. Lynn gave a short, contemptuous snicker. "You'll treat me to a drink once you win your earnings?" She raised an eyebrow, "How cocky; you act as if your victory is guaranteed. I'm sure there are others far more skilled than you entering." A lopsided grin formed on her face, "If you somehow managed to win, I'd take you up on that offer of a drink," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. It was clear that she thought this man had no chance.

Lynn took the time observe the dwarf who stood up for her after she was accosted. The elf was immediately reminded of Lorbeck. This dwarf was funnier, though; she had laughed when he had reprimanded Crow's party members. Looking at him, she said "Thanks," and nodded her head. This was a person who earned her respect.

Her eyes wandered to the second man who also offered drinks. He was right about the guards and paladins who had already come up to the group. "Nothing happening here; it's been resolved," she muttered at the paladin who eyed the group dubiously before nodding, walking off and observing the group from a further distance. "You, thanks to you too," she said but didn't take her eyes off him. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him. Her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. For a second, she thought she recognised this man before shaking the thought out of her head. "Sorry. I thought I knew you from somewhere."

Dain chuckled lightly at the elf's words. "Yeah, I tend to get that a lot. I've just got one of those faces." He said. After a brief moment, he'd examine the two before him, before a large grin spread across his face. "Say, how would you two like a drink? And don't worry, I can actually pay before the tournament, unlike the bucket head," He'd say, before walking closer to them. "Besides, I'd like to talk a little business, just between the three of us. I can pay handsomely, of course. Oh, and the names Dain. Dain of Cythera."

Belegor didn’t hear much of what was being discussed after one of the mercenary trash boasted to him about having taken many Dwarven lives. The fact that they had the gall to throw that in his face enraged the Dwarf to no end, his knuckles turning white as they grasped the handle of his war hammer. Dwarven lives weren’t expendable like some bloody humans, there weren’t a million more to replace them. Every life lost brought his kin a step closer to total extinction, and it seemed this armored thug had a hand in that. The only thing that stopped him from caving this Vail’s skull in was their captain stepping in, putting his dogs back in their place. A part of Belegor demanded that blood be spilled for the oaf’s transgression, but he held himself in check. There were others that needed to meet an end by his hammer, and these fools weren’t important enough to waste his energy on. That and dealing with the Paladins after the fact would be a hassle.

This Crow character that commanded them seemed decent enough, reprimanded the idiots for causing this mess. Still he rubbed Belegor the wrong way, he was arrogant, and kept shit company. He nearly broke out into a laughing fit when he tried to get the Elf, Lynn apparently to get a drink with him after the tourney. The gall the man must have to let his men harass her and hit on her immediately after was truly astounding. Course humans were a queer bunch to begin with, so perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised.

Ignoring Lynn and the human who had stepped in to try and calm things, Belegor approached the mounted party, staring directly into their leader’s eyes. “Glad to see you got your mutts back on their leash lad, though I suggest you try to keep a better handle on em. Cause next time they go threatening innocents and boasting of killing my kin, well you just might come to find their heads driven down into their chest cavities.” At this he looked to Vail, a none to friendly smile coming across Belegor’s face. “But I’m not unreasonable, so I’ll take you up on that offer laddie, though you might have some trouble paying for the ale after I knock you about in the tourney.” Perhaps it would have been wise to simply let the Jackals simply wander off towards the arena, but seeing their leader shrug off the situation so casually just didn’t sit right with him. He needed to know not everyone would tolerate their shit.

Turning from the mercs, Belgor made his way back to Lynn and this Dain of Cyre.. Sythe… Dain. The Elf was a curious one, clearly searching for someone and not letting something like being accosted by mercenaries get in her way. Hmm, persistent thing. “No need for thanks lass, prickless fools had it coming. Belegor Ironhammer, of Gulorum’s Seekers, at your service.” Belegor mentally slapped himself for letting that last part slip. There were no Seekers anymore, he knew that. The Seekers were no more.

Casting his emerald gaze to Dain, a broad smile came across his face at the mention of drink. “Pha, what kinda Dwarf would I be if I refused a drink with such fine company?” In truth the drink wasn’t of particular interest to him. Not to say he didn’t love ale, which would be a blatant lie, but he was curious to see what this man had to offer. Moreover, he wished to learn more of Lynn. He had heard bits of news of the Enderarch Explorers in the past, a successful explorers group which was no small feat. An invaluable ally if he wished to make it to the Deluge.

“So, what say ye Lynn? Think we could all use something to unwind after that mess.”

"Hmm. Sure, I'll come along," answered Lynn. This Dain person intrigued her and she wanted to find out what this 'little business' was.

Crow felt a smirk form under his helmet as the three chracters continued on. He found the elf to be an interesting thing that didn t seemed fazed at all by the incedent and the Dwarf a worthy opponent in the upcoming tournament. He talked a big game for such a small man, but Crow knew that the Dwarves were no laughing matter. Last time he underestimated a Dwarf he woke up with his head through a wall. Not a fun time at the tavern. He chuckled before turning his direction towards the one named Dain. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Well Dain of... something, Im always looking to do buisness with those willing to pay for our services so I will happily take you up on your offer," Crow said with gold and silver on his mind. Mix the earnings from the tournament and their funds will be back on tra be back on track in no time.

"Um, if I may," Crow looked over his shoulder towards Lox as he and his men closed in on their captains flanks. He smiled at the three strangers and gave a quick bow of his head before continueing on. "Im Lox, a member of the Romaing Jackals and I would like to personaly apologize for our companions behavior earlier. They have history of unneeded trouble and are very unpleasent to be around at times so I will say I more than understand how annoyed you all must be with their rudness," he said before giving another bow of his head, this one a bit lower. "Once again I apologize," Crow looked at Lox and smirked as he gave a small chuckle. The boy was only 16, but he had more manners than any noble he met. Crow patted Lox on the shoulder and looked to the three.

"Do not worry, I will make sure those two see the errors of their ways, even if I have to beat it into their thick skulls," he laughed while holding up his fist.

Admittedly, Belegor hadn't expected the mercenary captain to speak to them again after the ordeal. The Dwarf had enounctered enough arrogant assholes in his life to know you'd have an easier time shoving a boot up their ass then you would getting an apology from them. Or in Belegor's case a hammer instead a boot. Yet here he was, having his men give them an official apology. Alright, perhaps he's not as big an ass as I presumed. Belegor certainly wasn't looking for any more enemies, so he gave an appreciative nod towards the group. "Well Jackals, it's much appreciated. Perhaps ye aren't the pricks I thought you were." While it didn't necessarily sound much like forgiveness, the easygoing smile on the Dwarf's bearded face suggested he was more than willing to let bygones be bygones.

"However if you need any help knocking some sense into those twos skulls you just let me know, me hammer is well acquainted with the task."

He waited to see how his new companions would react. This Dain fellow didn't seem like the type to bother holding petty grudges, or at least ones that wouldn't profit him in some way. Lynn on the other hand may be a bit more peeved, the way she held her ground against two mercenaries suggested she wasn't one who backed down easily. Either way, he was getting ale, so he wasn't to concerned with it.

Lynn listened to the younger boy apologise on behalf of Butch and Vail. A smile tugged at her lips. "Nice to know that there's at least one well-mannered person in your party," she said, although it was said jokingly. She wasn't as annoyed as she previously was. Since she was new to the city, she didn't want to have already made some enemies. The elf hardly even knew the city's layout; she only knew the busiest areas. In fact, Lynn Drewrith didn't even have a proper place of accommodation. Instead, she'd sleep in alleyways or would rent a room in an inn with stolen money. "Alright. When're we going for the drinks?" she asked. It would be nice for someone to pay for her.

His eyes would look the large knight over quickly, not especially liking what he saw. The man was clearly a warrior, meant more for open battle and dungeon crawls than the cloak and dagger work Dain partook in. But who knows, maybe what he needed really was a bunch of muscled up meat heads. For a brief moment, the idea of using them for handling the mage crossed his mind, before quickly being tossed aside. Terrible idea. Maybe he'd need the mercenaries for something Later. Bit honestly, it was Belegor and Lynn that he wanted to hire. "Alright Mr. Crow, that's fine with me. Just, ah, have your friends go wait somewhere else. Place we're going to doesn't receive large amounts of heavily armed guests well. Trust me." He said to the merc leader.

"And Miss Lynn, we are going, right this moment, to one of the best pubs this side of Aether, bar none. Now, to The Trapdoor Drinker!"

 

[Locklaklazarii]

Name: Einarr Efjason
Location: Just Outside Alcamoth
Time: Day 1- 6:30AM

Spoiler: Ambiance

The day was just starting and Einarr was fully awake and aware, he stood next to a tree down wind from a stream, it's trickles echoed through the quiet forest, the sounds of night were gone now but the sound of day had barely just begun. The crimson rays of the sun split the dark blue sky and shot through the branches of the trees, the whole forest lit up to reveal itself, with this came the activity of day, the birds began to chirp and sing, the silence broke and the forest was alive. Across the way at the stream there was movement, a rustle in the branches, swiftly and deftly Einarr pulled up his bow, he took up an arrow and nocked it. Out of the shrubbery before him emerged a large beautiful stag, it practically glimmered in the scarlet light of dawn, the water reflected up upon it and made it glow even more, it was the incarnation of natures beauty itself. Einarr took a moment to gaze at the perfect picture lain in front of him and to let the stag drink, when it began to do so Einarr took a deep breath pulled back the string of the bow and ~fffwthk~ the stag fell to the ground an arrow piercing it's neck, right in the side, the sheer force being the arrow had knocked the beast over and it lay there dying. Einarr quickly and gently made his way over to the beast, the arrow that lay in it's neck was swiftly and smoothly removed, he then put the dagger into the spot at which the arrow had struck, it was in and out like butter and the stag was gone, there lay it's corpse a pile of silver. Tying the legs together he quickly pulled it unto his shoulders and began to walk back to camp, he did so quite noisily in order to make his presence clear to the animals in the forest, the leaves and fallen branches crunched beneath his feet, the sky's colors began to balance the red had turned orange then back to the blue of the day. Right outside his campgrounds was a snare, in it a rabbit was caught, "Hello little guy." he said in a calming voice as he lay down the stag and swooped down to the rabbit's level, it was squirming to get out of it's grasp, he took out the knife once more, "It's okay little one." he consoled before swiftly cutting it's throat.

He sat down next to the fire-pit and began to remake the fire, once the small flame, began to go he piled some wood next to it that the fire would surely spread to it. He had just begun to skin the rabbit when a large black bird had landed beside him, "Ygg," he started, "remind me, where is it I am to go in this city?"

The raven gave a caw back and replied, "In a city known only as Alcamoth,
a name that makes the greedy froth,
the slime,
the grime,
who you seek are the men in cloth."

Peeling back the skin of the rabbit Einarr began to think on specifically the last line, in reverberated in his head over and over, men in cloth, men in cloth, men in cloth. He had figured it out, he needed to go find the church, for some sort of job or task, he wasn't truly sure, but he knew he needed to. He skewered the rabbit, storing the fur from the rabbit in a knapsack with his coins that he never bothered to count, he spit-roasted the rabbit to have for breakfast along with pine nuts.


Name: Einarr Efjason
Location: Alcamoth->Trapdoor Drinker
Time: Day 1- 10:30AM

After having sold his Stag and a small pelt in Alcamoth, Einarr had found a bar that looked like it had good drinks, the scummy ones always had better more potent drinks, he had thought this mostly to be so the owners could get more money out of the patrons, either way he didn't care. The one thing that he had missed during his time in the wild was the taste of a dark rich drink, though he knew it was best not to get drunk especially when he had planned to go to the church later that day in order to find his destiny. He made his way to the barkeep and asked for a pint of Ale and half a loaf of bread, upon receiving this he paid and made his way to the first empty table he could find. He was alone in this dark and disreputable place, Ygg was outside the bar somewhere, most likely upon the roof, there was no way he'd take a bird into this place nor no real interior for that matter as he did not wish to draw any real attention to himself nor put the bird at risk. The bow and his weapons laid at the side of himself, as he began to drink the beer the fluid began to coat his throat in a soothing warm temperature, he grew just a tad colder and the room began to warm around him, he was happy, after his sip, he took out a chunk of bread and gulped it down, it was stale and almost tasteless but he ate it anyways, in order to not get drunk.

Looking around the bar Einarr noticed a poster that was a notification for a grand wedding, festivities, and a tournament. If his attempts to get a job from the church failed today he could always make money at this events, whether from honest means or dishonest, and then he could make his way to find someone else to give him purpose. He took another gulp of the ale and began to think about what he would say at the church or even what he'd do if that failed.

 

[The_Omega_Effect]

Location: Gypsy's Gaze
Time: 11:00 a.m.

A slight sense of camaraderie was felt by Andwyn as he was with another unpopular member of the church. Him not being instantly cast out by the two was a sight that was welcoming to him as he was just used to the typical, high born paladin waving him away due to his reputation. Although, he did get the sense that Aurora was not too fond of him or Dominicanes. She was one of the people in the church who shared opinions with the majority, meaning that she did look down on him and saw Dominicanes to be polarising. As she accepted and lead them to a tavern, Andwyn's smile he had when he entered the conversation slightly grew. He was given the opportunity to befriend these people which was a first for him when interacting with anybody who has anything to do with the Church.

"I will probably regret this but I do suppose I have nothing else to do today. Maybe Dominicanes can finish what he intended on saying. I'd love to hear what it was so I can better understand why he seems to be in favor of sparking a rebellion. He has all of the characteristics of someone who would."

"Wait what? A rebellion? Look at him, he couldn't hurt a fly." Andwyn responded as he playfully hit Dominicanes on the arm. He then followed Aurora and then gestured for Dominicanes to come with. He then faced forwards to ask the obvious question. "What is this discussion about anyways? You guys were really getting mad about it back there."

"It is often the leaders of rebellions who look harmless. It's not their strength nor physical prowness that pervert the minds of their followers. It's their words. They possess forked tongues and can easily persuade the weak willed to their schemes." There was but a moment of silence before Andwyn asked another question and Aurora answered. "The discussion was about Dominicanes questioning the church's methods of swiftly dealing with heretics. He deems our methods...unfair." Aurora took a glance back towards the cleric in question and smirked. "It only shows me that he is weak willed. He lacks the level of devotion to the church as I or the others that will do what we can to keep our land safe."

"Unfair? In what way?" Andwyn asked Dominicanes who was trailing behind.

"In the sense that the methods the Church employs are far too brutal and uncompromising," Dominicanes answered, hobbling somewhat with his crosier to keep up, "There seems to be not a semblance of pity or sympathy for those who have found themselves caught in deceptive lies that proliferate from the mouths of heretics. Also, to answer your charge that I am weak-willed or lack the devotion that you hold Aurora and many others like yourself, I find it somewhat of an egregious error to let your devotion and zeal blind your compassion for such men and women who have fallen prey to such devious and duplicitous doctrine." The notion that he could be the cause of a schism or rebellion within the Church was an idea that horrified Dominicanes; he would never go so far as to obstruct the running of the Church and its administration of the faith. If the Church, for whatever reason felt it necessary for the young Cleric to cease his opinions for fear that they may cause divide within the ranks of the Clerics, he would do so in a minute. However, until that mandate comes to him, he will continue to instruct his companions that mercy is greater than justice.

"You make it sound as if we kill anyone on sight. It's only if their beliefs fall into direct conflict with ours but of course if you live in Alcamoth you are expected to follow our laws. Our religious beliefs heavily influence our laws so if a person breaks those very rules set in place by the church then expect the maximum punishment. There can be no faltering otherwise people will think the rules can be bent. I'll be damned if it happens while I live and breathe. Your problem, Dominicanes, is that you think criminals and the guilty are victims. If a boy steals an apple from a shop keeper then, no matter the reason, his hand must be taken. It is not only a permanent reminder to the boy but everyone else that sees his punishment as well."

"And how about you Andwyn," the limp Cleric asked his companion, "Where do you stand on the debate? Worry not, I will not come after you like a hound of the Gods should you hold such an opinion different to my own, but it would be interesting to see what many of my companions assume to be the correct course of action although I can imagine many bear positions similar to our dear Aurora here." Dominicanes hadn't always been the most social with the rest of his clerical companions but for what it was worth, it did not seem to him anyway that Andwyn was a particularly vicious pursuer and slayer of heretics as many others within the ranks of the Church. However, for all he knew, he might be particularly good at hiding his zealousness.

Regardless, he was grateful for the fact that Andwyn interrupted the argument when he did, for if Dominicanes had continued with his tract, Aurora could have well beaten him within an inch of his life. Having a limp doesn't really make you the most effective combatant so it profoundly shocked that he would let himself be brought to such a level of emotional liberality. For the safety of his health and for the effectiveness of message, he would need to be reigned in emotionally that was for sure.

"That's one heck of an argument." Andwyn then rubbed his chin a bit, attempting to look thoughtful for a moment, even though he had already made up his mind. He did not really care about justice, punishments or anything the church really stood for. But he did have to look like he did if he wanted to keep his job. "Well, it really depends on how you look at it I suppose. On one hand, it is awfully ruthless to punish a boy with a sentence that would see him lose a hand. Most people only commit crimes because they are forced to do so by their circumstances. If you think about it, none of us are born into the people we are today. It is the way we are raised and the conditions under which we were raised. That boy would only steal that apple because if he had not done so, he would be starving. A woman would only steal gold to feed her children. A man would only commit murder to save his family. The goal behind some of the criminal actions that are committed are mostly noble causes that all of can understand. A lot of criminals are victims."

Andwyn then paused for a second. He did not want to anger Aurora and have her dislike him as well. He was there to make peace after all and taking a side like so would be counter intuitive at best. "The law however, is the law. Not all criminals are victims. Some people are just messed up in the head. Some people think that might makes right. There are many people amongst us that do deserve punishment. It is the church's responsibility to make sure that these people do not get to reign over everyone. And I do also think that no matter how noble the reason behind a crime is, that action is still a crime and should be appropriately punished. Like Aurora already pointed out, if we allow a law to be broken, then that law will keep getting broken until we do something about it. That is what separates us intelligent life from the mere savages. Strength and brute force are not the only things that determine your place in our society. The law is one of many foundations of such a society. We must show that the law is not something to be played around with. So yeah. My overall stance is that it is right that we should be very strict with our laws. Although, I do not think that the absolute maximum punishment is necessary. So I guess you are both right."

Dominicanes was astounded listening to Andwyn in the way he did; neither taking one side nor the other, he tried to find a common ground between his own viewpoint and that of Aurora's, the the former view could be seen as being far too lenient while the latter as being pre medicated towards violent suppression. Considering the antagonism that occurs between the two clerics because of their opposing views, maybe dialogue could be seen as the right path. For to the right, the left will always seem extremely far way and likewise for the left, the right will be a great distance away. Could our views be either side of the spectrum, Dominicanes thought to himself, being careful not to fall too far behind his two more able-bodied colleagues. Maybe, maybe not, for as one as stubborn as Dominicanes, admitting defeat, especially to a person like Aurora, would not come too easily and although listening to Andwyn has opened his eyes somewhat, the idea that the physician should not only rid one of the sickness that afflicts but the body for allowing to become sick, still seems rather incredulous to him and he'll fight for his viewpoint until the Church deems it otherwise.

Aurora listened to Andwyn's take on the matter. He was taking the middle ground, which made sense from a social standpoint. There were three of them and to take hers or Domincanes' side would mean backing the person, who stood alone in their opinion, into a corner. Not that Aurora cared too much what Andwyn's side was because the girl knew her opinion was still a majority in the church. And even then Aurora still stood by what she was taught and would do so regardless what anyone thought.

"I don't think there is anything just in blatant criminal acts. The boy could have asked for the apple if he was so hungry. The woman could find work. And the murderer would depend on the circumstances. But would you take the side of a man who murdered an entire family just for some petty gold?"

"And would the vendor give the child the apple?" Dominicanes asked of her, his brow furrowed, clasping his crosier tightly, "I would assume not; yet even so, this is not a large enough privation to warrant the loss of the child's hand is it? The poor child knows nothing other than poverty and poverty teaches you that all things are fair game when one has nothing. He knows little else and lacks the proper instruction regarding such matters. Now, we can continue this another time, for I grow weary of this little battle of ours, for the moment."

Finishing his last remarks, he finally came upon the tavern that they were about to enter. Upon entering the establishment, the eyes of all those drinking within, whether sober or in a drunken stupor turned their eyes towards them for a brief moment, before returning to their own revelment and conversations. Dominicanes was noticeably intrigued about the atmosphere of the pub, since being so immersed in his work the majority of the time, he finds little avenue for social engagement especially in places like this. There's a first time for everything I suppose, he thought to himself, gazing around at all the various characters that filled the room.

Surprisingly, he noticed quite a few women around, whether serving customers or engaging in various rounds of drinking themselves, some even having bouts against men to see who would be the first to give up. It was all rather amusing to him, especially since the women that he usually comes into contact with are usually well-covered. So seeing them in various types of clothes was another first for him, even though he would not be one for staring, the Gods forbid it so. Finding a few empty seats at a table in the dead centre of the pub, they nestled into their seats rather briskly, as the crowd entering along them seemed to increase as time moved on.

Andwyn followed after Dominicanes into the tavern. He had recognised it as he had been there many times before. A big portion of his time had been spent in leasurely places like so it. If he recalled, the place was named The Gypsy's Gaze. He was not particularly fond of the name, or the people that went to taverns, or even how everyone got drunk in them. It was a place for him to just talk to random people and have his favourite drink. Andwyn was no big fan of alcoholic drinks. He was very lightweight as a mug of ale would be enough to make him tipsy. This combined with the incredible bitterness of any alcoholic drink made him frown upon an alcoholic drink. But he would not deny it if it was bought for him though. He liked paying no money for an unfavourable drink, than pay money for his favourite. He took a seat and then gestured to the waitress that was passing drinks around. Once she was done, she came over to them in order to take their order. Their unifroms made it very obvious that the three were from the church.

"What would you three church folk want?" asked the woman.

Andwyn quickly spoke up as he had already decided what he wanted to drink. "I would like the lemon drink as usual." The waitress nodded as she noted down what he wanted in her mind. It seemed that she had not recognised him, despite him coming to the tavern and being the only person who is not a child who enjoys the lemon drink. It was just water mixed with some lemon juice and a sweetener of somesort. Sometimes sugar, other times honey. Andwyn then waited for his dear companions to place their orders.


"I'd like to have...uh...the," Dominicanes stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words for once in his life, "The ale please, if you will."

"And I'll have the cider, please." Aurora stated.


An awkward silence followed after they had finished ordering their drinks. Andwyn looked around a bit, gazing back and forth between the two, waiting for them to start a conversation of sorts. Boredom was something that he disliked very much. And for this reason, he decided to do a fun little magic trick in order to entertain his fellow clerics. "Did you guys know that I am a great wizard as well? Many far and wide have heard of my incredible power." He quickly reached into his pouch of gold and flipped up a silver coin which he caught in the air. He made sure to keep his composure as he focused his efforts on making sure that the two would not see his sleight of hand. Unbeknownst to the others, Andwyn had taken a few more silver coins from his pouch. The flip of the coin was only a way to distract them. He had to cover two angles so the trick would be harder to do. However, his experience doing the trick did nothing to take away from his confidence.

Andwyn slid the coin into the palm of his hand and then showed it to the two while talking. "I really don't get why people have so much problems with money. I mean people kill for this stuff. Why do such henious things," Andwyn closed his palm into a fist, turned it around and then slapped it with his other hand. "When you can just make more like so?" He then opened his hand to reveal two silver coins in the center.

"But I get why people restrain from making gold like this." Andwyn closed his palm with the two coins. "It would not matter if you made one, two or even three more coins." He held up the number of coins he mentioned, adding to them every time with a sleight of hand. "The saying goes "More money, More problems." So I guess its best to get rid of money altogether." He then slid the coins back into his fist, snapped his finger and opened his palm to reveal that it was empty. "The problem most people have is not making money though. Its finding it. They look all over the place to find silver coins and such. Unbeknownst to them, all the silver they need is," He then moved his hand in front of Aurora face slowly. As his hand got closer, he moved it under her nose and flipped up a silver coin with a sleight of hand. He then retracted his arm and added. "Under their nose."

Aurora cut her eyes at Andwyn.

"Is that a trick you do to impress all the girls?" She said in a sarcastic tone. "I've seen thieves perform all kinds of tricks like that and would pick pocket the poor lads that were silly enough to get themselves engrossed." Aurora took a quick drink from her cup before returning her gaze towards Andwyn, once again. "That makes me wonder. What exactly did you do before you joined the church? A jester? Magician? Mayhaps you really were a theif? I can already guess what our fellow cleric, Dominicanes probably was before since his type doesn't allow for much mystery."

Aurora's lack of amusement from what was a seemingly flawless performance of the trick was not taken too well by Andwyn. "Does it hurt to loosen up for a few seconds." But he was instantly cheered up once his drink arrived. He hastily grabbed his lemon drink from the waitress and took a big sip before setting it on the table. The sweetness combined with the fresh lemon flavour was all that was needed to bring happiness to him. He sat back in his seat for a bit before being asked a question. "This whole cleric thing is my first job. I used to live quite the distance away from here. I was taken care of by my parents since I was a kid and all I did was read books, study them and other boring stuff. But, I would be a pretty good magician as you can see."

"Disregarding that rather snide comment," Dominicanes frowned, although she was mostly correct in her statement, "That was very well done Andwyn, those types of tricks were always very funny when I was a child. You would be surprised about superstitious some people can get about such tricks. You were obviously having none of it Aurora, that cider already taking an effect is it?" He took a sip from his ale, becoming slightly red in the face from doing so, since he wasn't the best at holding drink himself.

Andwyn turned to Dominicanes and then smiled at him. He then pointed at him and said "See? Someone gets it."

Aurora scoffed. "There's no ale in cider, Dominicanes. I am in my right mind. Although, I can see you might have trouble keeping yourself in yours." She took note of the flush that started on his face. "You've barely sipped your drink and you're already getting drunk?" A slight smile appeared on Aurora's face. There were a few things that were considered rare in the church. The number of mages was one of them. Another was to see Aurora genuinely smile even if it was from her being amused by someone else.

Seeing the smirk on Aurora's face, Dominicanes instantly pushed the ale away, noticing the warmth welling up in his face. "I think I've had enough of that for now," Dominicanes said, holding his head in his hands for such an embarrassing sight, "I shouldn't have myself be in such a state before the ceremony now can I?"

Staring back and forth between the two, Andwyn continued to drink from his lemonade.

"Let's hope you can sober up as quick as it takes you to get drunk. But, hey, at least there's finally something about you that's interesting. I think I'd like to see more of the tipsy-Dominicanes. He might, very well, be a likeable fellow." Aurora teased. She didn't know what it was all the sudden. Maybe there was something in her cider. Mayhaps it was something about the atmosphere. Or it could be the fact that this is the first time she went socializing with anyone for a really long time. But she was letting her guard down and feeling at ease at the moment. Aurora thought she'd just let it slide for this once.

Larry Pai Chan Avari

 

[Avari]

Name: Grand Cleric Lucina
Location: The Grand Chaper
Time: Day 1 11:15AM



It had only been a few short hours, but the Chapel of Light was already richly decorated in preparation for the wedding. Lucina had procured several mages trained in transmutation six months in advance to ensure they would be free to assist, and with their help raising the opulent golden silks that would hang from every archway and window had taken hours rather than days. - The Clerics who would usually be expected to climb the somewhat intimidating heights to the Chapel roof had been rather relieved by that particular turn of events.

Lucina smiled as she listened to the efficient work that was going on around her, feeling rather content with the progress they had achieved so far. It had been far too long since the Grand Cleric had had the opportunity to simply sit quietly and reflect - she had been rather busy over the last few months stopping Knight-Commander Ulfric and the King’s frequent disagreements from becoming full-blown arguments and overseeing the restructuring of the Clerical order into a group that the Grand Cleric felt better reflected what the Church should be.

She knew not everyone agreed with her way of doing things. Under her leadership the Clerics had become more focussed on research and study, with generous incentives offered for those who were willing to travel into the darker areas of Aether. Lucina’s decision to have the Church work with local mercenaries on expeditions, open the Grand Library to the public, and be more tolerant to those that would question the Church’s ideology (if only slightly) had made her enemies amongst the more conservative and extremist sections of the Church. Those that believed the Church should remain distant, lest they become corrupted by those they wished to protect.


Screams.

A body - a Dwarf? - laid on the stone pavement of Alcamoth market. His blood running between the white tiles. Crumped. Broken. Bones torn through flesh.

He was wearing the cloth of a Cleric.


Lucina snapped out of her vision, a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Your holiness, is everything all right?”

She recognized the voice. Knight-Captain Rhyder. One of her personal guards.

Lucina looked up at the Paladin, her bone crown glimmering grimly in the light, her lips thin.

“Get a squad to the Alcamoth markets. Now.”

 

[Prrrgadilly]

Name: Markku Elof
Location: Alcamoth, The Elof House
Time: Day 1 - 11:06AM

"Master Elof, we've arrived." The deep voice of Markku's current bodyguard, Bonny, reached him as the burly warrior opened the carriage door. They had actually been parked out in front of the townhouse for 10 minutes, but Bonny had been waiting for Markku's acknowledgement for the last 4. He, and his brother warriors, had grown used to the master's meandering mind. They'd even grown to enjoy the peaceful moments his daydreams brought: far too fleeting.

"Thank you, Bonny Lad." While he said it automatically, it was one of the few heartfelt things Markku ever said to his staff. Bonny could tell, instantly, that ti was referencing his wise display of patience, exclusively. Disembarking from the carriage smoothly, Markku ignored the small staff assembled to welcome him and strode into the townhouse confidently.

"Master Elof, was that necessary?" Shutting the door of the carriage, after reaching in and grabbing Markku's cane, Bonny fell into step behind the noble easily. He spoke quietly, but the baritone timbre of his voice carried effortlessly. He handed the cane off as a servant came to collect it alongside the coat and hat Markku'd just shrugged off.

"No, it was not necessary, as you see it, but it was somewhat entertaining, and I believe that I have stirred up quite the hornet's nest with such a small act. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't find myself at the business end of a cautionary arrow. Why? Do you think I was wrong to request the thieves leave my abode untouched?" As usual, Markku used his answer to deflect the objectivity of the situation. He was completely disregarding the fact that he'd actually called for no beggars of any kind and that he'd just attacked two defenseless children.

"Except that is not what you requested, sir. You requested what is effectively a few impossible days of crime less streets. You did so without offering compensation or a valid argument. This city's Underbelly is a business sir; you cannot get something for nothing." Bonny kept his words calm, but he was slowly becoming aggravated. Every time Markku acted recklessly, he and his brothers had to clean up the bodies left in the mage's wake.

"What do you mean "something for nothing"? I gave them a coinpurse of 10 gold. That equates to more than an entire week of earnings for all the beggars of the Lower Districts. I told them it was compensation for services yet to be rendered. If they misinterpret my message, then that is their mistake. Now, calm down. You know that I do not care for rampant emotions in my presence; they are unsettling." Markku waved away Bonny's words as he began to ascend the stair towards his bed chambers, and the hot bath that was waiting for him. He knew very well that those children would interpret his meaning the bag was for them alone.

"That is exactly the problem." Bonny followed Markku up the stairs without missing a beat. He took care to reign his tone in and keep his volume sedate; Markku had a literal hard time discoursing with overly emotive parties, as if part of his mind shut down when faced with emotions."You and I both know how those children will read into your vague words. Are you trying to start a war with, nay, a purge against the Underbelly? Even you must see that there is no fruit to be born from shaking that tree." Markku had reached the landing and was entering his chambers with Bonny still on his heels.

"I am perfectly within my rights to offer a fair trade of gold for work, or rather lack of work. If a simple business agreement is misinterpreted by an agreeing party, then the proposing party cannot be held liable." Markku replied as servants swirled around him, undressing him with expert manipulations. "Not all trees must bear fruit as proof of the value of shaking them, Bonny, but if you insist that there is nothing to be gained, I will not pursue the issue any further." Bonny heaved a sigh of relief. "That is of course, if they can do the same." The sigh became a harshly bit off curse as Markku turned to his bodyguard with an alluring twinkle in his eye, and an inviting smile on his face."Now, unless you intend to join me, this conservation is over."

"Of course, sir. Enjoy your bath." Bonny hastily averted his eyes as Markku stepped out of his underclothes and stood there with his hands on his hips, nude. The "alone" portion of his reply was unspoken but no less verbal. The noble's body was, indeed, a beautiful sight to behold, and sweeter so with one's hands, but Bonny knew better than to take the bait. Markku wasn't unnaturally cruel, but it would take a smarter man than Bonny to overcome his wily machinations. As well as he knew his master, it wasn't enough for him to fool himself into believing that he was anything more than another plaything to Markku Elof.

"Well, if you insist..." Markku shrugged before turning and stepping down into the steaming, large claw-foot tub and moaning happily. "Dismissed, Bonny Lad." He waved once before leaning his head back into the headrest and relaxing fully. Bonny simply couldn't see things the way he did. There was a motion in this city he couldn't see fully, like currents beneath the still surface of a lake. He needed to muddy the waters enough to discern the direction of the hidden tides. After all, the Alcamothian Underbelly is nothing compared to Vakaris.

 

[Avari]

Name: Lissa
Location: Alcamoth | Market District | Gypsy's Gaze Tavern
Time: 11:15am

45 minutes later, with no sign of Grorbath and Lissa refusing to take her eyes off the street, Salia decided to order some lunch. The Tavern was slowly filling up anyway, she wanted to order something while she had the chance.

“What is that?” Lissa asked, as a plate was put down on the table and the elf gleefully dug in.

“It’s delicious is what it is,” Salia said, taking another bite.

“Did it once have a name?”

Munching, the elf nodded. “I think Tran called it a “Cheese-ham-wich”

“Uh huh...so just melted cheese? And ham? In a sandwich?”

“That’s the basic concept I believe.” Salia replied.

Lissa shook her head, her red curls swishing side to side. “You elves eat like children.”

Salia nodded.

“It’s like butter in fireball form,” Lissa continued lazily, sipping her drink. “Not to mention all the cheese - it’s going to make you sluggish.”

“I’d rather be sluggish then hungry and tetchy.”

“I’m fine,” Lissa replied archly, turning her full attention back to the hustle and bustle. “My body is a temple.”

“Is that why it has so many visitors?”

“Ha. Ha."

She watched as a old lady hobbled along with a bag full of vegetables from the market. A human pushing a cart full of wares paused in front of the tavern - Lissa was on her feet immediately, getting an unobstructed view and angrily shooing the merchant on. An elven woman struggling with two crying infants. A Paladin in proud silver armor marching through the crowd. A crumpled looking dwarf threading his way through the thinning crowd on his way south - away from the marketing district. He shot frantic looks left and right, his Cleric robe was stained with mud. He was in a hurry but trying not to look it. His beard was grey.

It was Grorbath.



“There’s our boy!” Lissa said. She swerved around the merchant’s cart, and maneuvered into the street 30 meters behind the Dwarf. Salia took a moment to realize what was happening, and fumbled with her half eaten sandwich as she grabbed her dagger and bag from the table. As she stood, her chair knocked into a waitress who was taking drinks to three Church looking types who had entered earlier. The waitress gave a cry of surprise and her tray went flying - there was a loud smash as the glasses fell to the floor. The drunk elves at the next table clapped and hooted sarcastically.

Grorbath heard the noise. He turned and saw Salia frantically apologizing to the waitress. The elf flicked a look at Lissa and cursed her own tactlessness. Grorbath was already looking back at Lissa.

His expression became one of horror. He saw Lissa reach for her blade, A panicky look of disbelief. And the dwarf darted into a side street and away.

“Get back here you bastard!” Lissa was after him in an instant. The crowd scattered like a flock of startled pigeons as the pair burst through their midst. Salia launched after them, half colliding with an old human woman as she did so, knocking her to the ground. She ignored the woman’s stream of obscenities and chased down the narrow street after Lissa, the stitch in her side confirming that the cheese-ham-wich was in fact - a mistake.

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

Name: Crow/Lynn Drewrith/Belegor Ironhammer/"Dain of Cythera"
Location: Upper Class Streets
Time: 10:30 a.m.

Crows party marched on through the cities streets, all excited and ready for the up comming tournamnet that would make their funds much more heavier. Crow scanned the cities streets with a small smirk as he watched the people walk along with joyful smiles and laugh as they enjoyed their companions company. He chuckled and glanced back at his men and felt his smirk grow at their loud banter between each other. Memories of his old party slowly swept through his mind and gave a chuckle.

As Crow remembered the good old days one of his veteran party members, Vail was at the back of the party converseing with another member about the tournament before his attention was taken away by a females voice. "Vin-" the voiced ceased itself, but Vail was able to spot the owners voice. A female elf with a dark cloak had been trying to grab the captains attention, but stopped and seemed to try to slip away while flipping her hood over her head. His grey eyes narrowed towards the strange elf and tightened his grip on his spear as he tapped onto his fellow members arm. "Oi, follow me. I see someone fuuny looking eyeing the captain," he said as he pointed his spear towards the now hooded elf. His comapnion raised an eyebrow and looked towards Vails target before giving a nod.

Vail grunted as he redirected his mount in the elfs direction. People quickly made way for the two mounted mercenaries and watched with wonder at their agressive looks on their faces. "Oi! The elf in the cloak, stop right there!" he cried out and gestured with his spear for his comrade to flank around her. He noded and gave his mount a light kick to pick up the pace. He quickly cut off the hooded elf and rested his hand onto his sheathed sword.

"You heard him, stop," he growled as Vail reached the two. Vail stopped near the elf and glared down at her.

"You, elf, explain why you eye our captain in such a suspicious way," he ordered in a agressive tone.

Lynn quickly spun on her heel, her hood slipping off her head in the process and revealing her white hair which glowed in the sun. The look of surprise on her face formed into a scowl. Looking at the people who had stopped her, she recognised the man who she had mistaken for Vincent. She had been so excited at the thought of finding her old teammate that she hadn't properly examined the man. With hand on hip, the elf glared up at the accosters. "Well, if you must know, I'd simply mistaken him for someone in my old explorer party. Me, him and the others plan to go to the Deludge Wetlands," she said smugly. Returning to her rude manner, she added, "So lay off!"

As the mercenaries confronted the young cloaked elf, a pair of sharp emerald eyes glared harshly at them. Belegor had decided to simply trail behind the mercenaries on their way to the arena, figuring that seeing their faces when they found out the tournament wasn't for another two days would be worth a laugh while he signed up himself. Of course his potential fun was ruined when he saw a couple of the mercs decide to be pricks, harassing some Elven lass who did nothing more than call out to their presumed leader before walking away. Seeing a couple of armed thugs harassing a defenseless woman for kicks. Upon returning to Alcamoth some years ago Belegor had discovered that some local gang had taken to harassing Dhalia and her mother, forcing them to pay 'protection'. The gang had dissappeared over night, their bodies found a few days later after the stench had become so putrid residents nearby could smell it.

Before he could act, the girl said something particularly interesting. Namely her desire to go to the Deluge Wetlands. If she had a group capable of such a task, it would go a long way in claiming retirbution. Stroking his burly blonde beard in thought for a momentas the blonde haired Elf attempted to explain herself, Belegor decided that he had enough of this bullshit and would deal with the Wetlands part later. Striding into the middle of the group, hammer resting on his shoulder, the burly Dwarf stood in between the mercs and the Elf, a casual smile on his face. "Greetings lads! Fine day we got for ourselves eh? Perfect really, was gonna go for a stroll, stop and grab a cold pint of ale. But then I see something that just gets my beard all twisted up, I see a couple of mercenary bastards harassing some unarmed Elven lass cause it makes them feel like they don't have tiny pricks. Now I'm not so happy." The friendly smile slowly faded as Belegor spoke, his deep voice taking a harsh edge as his face fell into an irritated frown.

"So here's what I think should happen, you two beardless welps apologize to this fine lass, and trot after your boss like the good pups you are so we can all get back to enoying our day. That understood laddies?" As if to silence any argument, he hefted his hammer off his shoulder, driving its head onto the ground with a resounding thud that nearly cracked the cobbled road beneath, a few passerbys now slowing to gaze at this sudden confrontation.

The hammer's thud echoed through the street, before finally coming to Dain. The man was towards the back of quickly forming 'spectators' who had begun to crowd near where the dwarf and mercenaries stood. Dain honestly didn't care to much about it. Just some fools getting ready to fight over honor. The thief snorted to himself at the thought. Suddenly, Dain would feel a light tugging on his tunic, and turning around, would find one of his little watchers standing there, her eyes practically popping out of her head they were so big. "Mister spider, I's got a message from a noble fella. Said he didn't want no beggars on the steet while he's here, and made a big ol' thing a lightning go and land next to Margey and Mic."

The man crouched down next to her, a hand placed on each shoulder. "Did he say anything about a payment, or an offer? Or did he decide to command us to get them off the street?" He asked the little girl in a serious tone. After a few moment's, the girl told him. "Commanded. Oh, and he said his name was something silly. Markku or somethin'" the thief nodded, pressing a few coppers into her hand before taking his gold purse back as she ran off. Cute kid. Lousy pickpocket.

With this new information, Dain would stand back up, and pressed his hand to his chin as the thought on what to do. He needed to retaliate, that much was obvious. If he didn't, Dain knew that he'd have a dagger in his back by the end of the night, and Kimble back on the throne. He could already feel that bastard's creepy fucking eye staring him up and down. By the sound of it, this Markku would be a hassle. He couldn't trust Kimble with this, to dangerous, and the man made Dain look like an amateur. Perhaps someone from the Gophers? Naw, those bastards would want a hundred gold at least.

After a few moments, Dain realized that he had slowly gotten closer to the front of the crowd, to the point that he could now see the source of the crowd. A dwarf, two men, and an elf woman. From the crowd's whisperings, Dain gathered that the two men were mercenaries, who had decided to accost the elf girl for mistaking someone's identity, while the dwarf was a third party there to 'defend' the girl. The men seemed like idiots, but the elf and dwarf seemed interesting. The girl looked lithe and nimble, perhaps a thief. The Spiders could always use more thieves. The dwarf on the other hand was the perfect muscle. Strong, but easily hidden.

Forgetting his mage problem for a moment, Dain would break from the crowd, entering the middle. "Now fellas, isn't this all just a big misunderstanding? This is something that should be settled over a pint, not in the streets! Come on, I'll pay! And between you and me, I can already see a paladin or two and some guards coming over to investigate." Sure enough, a mixed patrol of guards and paladins had noticed the forming crowd, and were proceeding toward them quickly.

Vail and Butch glared at the two new strangers and gripped their weapons much tighter. "Listen here you pint sized dwarf, I have killed many of your kin without trouble so you will be no different! Mind your own buisness before my spear finds a new home within your chest!" he snarled while Butch directed his attention towards the other stranger who tried to sttle things with a pint.

"And you, mind your buisness! This is between us and that damned elf who wants to cause our captain trouble!" he barked while unsheathing his sword half way. While this was all happening a young Lox had picked up on the commotion as he went down the parties line to make sure everything was in order. He looked to Vail and Butch surrounded by a crowd with that same battle read look in their eyes.

"Oh hell," Lox mumbled as he watched Vail and Butch at it again. He shook his head and spurred his horse forward towards the front of the party to cathc up with Crow. As he reached a close enough distance he called out to his captain. "Sir! SIr, we have a problem!" Crow looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at the worried looking Lox before noticing the crow with Vail and his old mate Butch causing trouble, again. Crow groaned and held his fist up into the air to halt the party as he steered his mount in the direction of the large crowd.

"Lox bring a few of your boys with us, rest of you watch over the cart!" he barked as he spurred his mount forwards with a grunt. Lox called out to three of his men and they quickly followed their captain. The a few members of the crowd saw Crow, but most just watched on. Crow growled and took in a deep breath before letting his presence being known to all.

"Oi! Vail, Butch you damned slobbering old hounds!" he bellowed with his authority clear in his voice. Both Vail and Butch cringed at their captains voice and looked at each other before looking back to their captain as he exited the crowd and came to a stop in the middle of the commotion. He tightened the grip on his sowrd and glared at the two behind his helmet. They may have not been able to see his eyes, but they knew he was upset. The air was silent for a few seconds before Crow cleared his throat and spoke in a low annoyed voice. "Vail, Butch, what is the meaning of this disturbance?" Vail looked at his leader for a few seconds, then to the elf and back to him.

"Sir, I have reasons to believe that this elf has ill intentions towards you. I am only doing what I believe is right-" he was cut off by Crows raised hand and ceased his defence as his leader looked towards the elf. Crows eyebrow raised as he inspected the elf and felt a smirk crawl onto his face. He chuckled for a second before bursting out into a deep harty laugh. His men and a few of the people watching were caught off guard by his sudden fit of laughter. He had seemed ready to behead his men a second ago, but now he was laughing with such amusemnet one would think someone had told the funniest joke in the world.

After what had felt like hours of Crows laughter he slowly came to a stop and looked back to Vail. "My friend, I thank you for being so ready to defend me, but I doubt this elf can do much harm to anyone in our party," he said gesturing towards the elf.

"But captain-" he was cut off again by Crows hand and lowered his head in defeat.

"Vail, Butch, head back to the cart while I clean up your small mess, we will talk later," he commanded as he spotted the guards heading their way. Vail and Butch were quick to follow their captions orders and made their way through the crowds and towards the rest of the party. Crow sighed and shook his head as he looked towards the elf. "Sorry about that, old Vail there has a bad taste for elfs. Though now that I think about it he has a bad taste for all races. Guess that is the burden of being old," he joked with a shrug. "Anyway, hope they were not such a burden for a lass such as yourself. If I can make up for their trouble I will treat you to a few drinks once I win the tournament," he said with a smirk as he bowed his head. "The names is Crow by the way, captain Crow of the Roaming Jackals., plesure to meet you"

He then looked to the two other strangers and gave another quick bow of his head. "Also, thanks for stepping in, those two have a history of causeing trouble and it has gotten us into a bit of trouble with some powerful people. If you are up to it I will also treat you to a pint once I win my earnings," he smiled under his helmet and looked towards the coming guards. "But first I have to deal with them," he mumbled before the group of guards and palidins finally made their way through the crowd.

The elf remained silent while the others spoke but she was slowly getting angrier and angrier. Lynn already hated the first men who approached her—she believed they were called 'Vail' and 'Butch' based on what their captain addressed them as—and the person who she mistook for Vincent wasn't really growing on her either. She had already reached her boiling point when the captain of the party burst out into laughter. The gaze on her face was iron. "You 'doubt this elf can do much harm'?" she said in a low voice. Her arms were crossed and she stared down at the man as he bowed.

According to his introduction, this man was the leader of a group called 'the Roaming Jackals'. She'd heard her old teammate talk about this group before but, at the time, she wasn't interested in any group other than her own. The elf fixed her cesious eyes on the bulky figure before her. "Lynn. Enderarch Explorers," went her terse introduction. Lynn gave a short, contemptuous snicker. "You'll treat me to a drink once you win your earnings?" She raised an eyebrow, "How cocky; you act as if your victory is guaranteed. I'm sure there are others far more skilled than you entering." A lopsided grin formed on her face, "If you somehow managed to win, I'd take you up on that offer of a drink," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. It was clear that she thought this man had no chance.

Lynn took the time observe the dwarf who stood up for her after she was accosted. The elf was immediately reminded of Lorbeck. This dwarf was funnier, though; she had laughed when he had reprimanded Crow's party members. Looking at him, she said "Thanks," and nodded her head. This was a person who earned her respect.

Her eyes wandered to the second man who also offered drinks. He was right about the guards and paladins who had already come up to the group. "Nothing happening here; it's been resolved," she muttered at the paladin who eyed the group dubiously before nodding, walking off and observing the group from a further distance. "You, thanks to you too," she said but didn't take her eyes off him. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him. Her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. For a second, she thought she recognised this man before shaking the thought out of her head. "Sorry. I thought I knew you from somewhere."

Dain chuckled lightly at the elf's words. "Yeah, I tend to get that a lot. I've just got one of those faces." He said. After a brief moment, he'd examine the two before him, before a large grin spread across his face. "Say, how would you two like a drink? And don't worry, I can actually pay before the tournament, unlike the bucket head," He'd say, before walking closer to them. "Besides, I'd like to talk a little business, just between the three of us. I can pay handsomely, of course. Oh, and the names Dain. Dain of Cythera."

Belegor didn’t hear much of what was being discussed after one of the mercenary trash boasted to him about having taken many Dwarven lives. The fact that they had the gall to throw that in his face enraged the Dwarf to no end, his knuckles turning white as they grasped the handle of his war hammer. Dwarven lives weren’t expendable like some bloody humans, there weren’t a million more to replace them. Every life lost brought his kin a step closer to total extinction, and it seemed this armored thug had a hand in that. The only thing that stopped him from caving this Vail’s skull in was their captain stepping in, putting his dogs back in their place. A part of Belegor demanded that blood be spilled for the oaf’s transgression, but he held himself in check. There were others that needed to meet an end by his hammer, and these fools weren’t important enough to waste his energy on. That and dealing with the Paladins after the fact would be a hassle.

This Crow character that commanded them seemed decent enough, reprimanded the idiots for causing this mess. Still he rubbed Belegor the wrong way, he was arrogant, and kept shit company. He nearly broke out into a laughing fit when he tried to get the Elf, Lynn apparently to get a drink with him after the tourney. The gall the man must have to let his men harass her and hit on her immediately after was truly astounding. Course humans were a queer bunch to begin with, so perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised.

Ignoring Lynn and the human who had stepped in to try and calm things, Belegor approached the mounted party, staring directly into their leader’s eyes. “Glad to see you got your mutts back on their leash lad, though I suggest you try to keep a better handle on em. Cause next time they go threatening innocents and boasting of killing my kin, well you just might come to find their heads driven down into their chest cavities.” At this he looked to Vail, a none to friendly smile coming across Belegor’s face. “But I’m not unreasonable, so I’ll take you up on that offer laddie, though you might have some trouble paying for the ale after I knock you about in the tourney.” Perhaps it would have been wise to simply let the Jackals simply wander off towards the arena, but seeing their leader shrug off the situation so casually just didn’t sit right with him. He needed to know not everyone would tolerate their shit.

Turning from the mercs, Belgor made his way back to Lynn and this Dain of Cyre.. Sythe… Dain. The Elf was a curious one, clearly searching for someone and not letting something like being accosted by mercenaries get in her way. Hmm, persistent thing. “No need for thanks lass, prickless fools had it coming. Belegor Ironhammer, of Gulorum’s Seekers, at your service.” Belegor mentally slapped himself for letting that last part slip. There were no Seekers anymore, he knew that. The Seekers were no more.

Casting his emerald gaze to Dain, a broad smile came across his face at the mention of drink. “Pha, what kinda Dwarf would I be if I refused a drink with such fine company?” In truth the drink wasn’t of particular interest to him. Not to say he didn’t love ale, which would be a blatant lie, but he was curious to see what this man had to offer. Moreover, he wished to learn more of Lynn. He had heard bits of news of the Enderarch Explorers in the past, a successful explorers group which was no small feat. An invaluable ally if he wished to make it to the Deluge.

“So, what say ye Lynn? Think we could all use something to unwind after that mess.”

"Hmm. Sure, I'll come along," answered Lynn. This Dain person intrigued her and she wanted to find out what this 'little business' was.

Crow felt a smirk form under his helmet as the three chracters continued on. He found the elf to be an interesting thing that didn t seemed fazed at all by the incedent and the Dwarf a worthy opponent in the upcoming tournament. He talked a big game for such a small man, but Crow knew that the Dwarves were no laughing matter. Last time he underestimated a Dwarf he woke up with his head through a wall. Not a fun time at the tavern. He chuckled before turning his direction towards the one named Dain. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Well Dain of... something, Im always looking to do buisness with those willing to pay for our services so I will happily take you up on your offer," Crow said with gold and silver on his mind. Mix the earnings from the tournament and their funds will be back on tra be back on track in no time.

"Um, if I may," Crow looked over his shoulder towards Lox as he and his men closed in on their captains flanks. He smiled at the three strangers and gave a quick bow of his head before continueing on. "Im Lox, a member of the Romaing Jackals and I would like to personaly apologize for our companions behavior earlier. They have history of unneeded trouble and are very unpleasent to be around at times so I will say I more than understand how annoyed you all must be with their rudness," he said before giving another bow of his head, this one a bit lower. "Once again I apologize," Crow looked at Lox and smirked as he gave a small chuckle. The boy was only 16, but he had more manners than any noble he met. Crow patted Lox on the shoulder and looked to the three.

"Do not worry, I will make sure those two see the errors of their ways, even if I have to beat it into their thick skulls," he laughed while holding up his fist.

Admittedly, Belegor hadn't expected the mercenary captain to speak to them again after the ordeal. The Dwarf had enounctered enough arrogant assholes in his life to know you'd have an easier time shoving a boot up their ass then you would getting an apology from them. Or in Belegor's case a hammer instead a boot. Yet here he was, having his men give them an official apology. Alright, perhaps he's not as big an ass as I presumed. Belegor certainly wasn't looking for any more enemies, so he gave an appreciative nod towards the group. "Well Jackals, it's much appreciated. Perhaps ye aren't the pricks I thought you were." While it didn't necessarily sound much like forgiveness, the easygoing smile on the Dwarf's bearded face suggested he was more than willing to let bygones be bygones.

"However if you need any help knocking some sense into those twos skulls you just let me know, me hammer is well acquainted with the task."

He waited to see how his new companions would react. This Dain fellow didn't seem like the type to bother holding petty grudges, or at least ones that wouldn't profit him in some way. Lynn on the other hand may be a bit more peeved, the way she held her ground against two mercenaries suggested she wasn't one who backed down easily. Either way, he was getting ale, so he wasn't to concerned with it.

Lynn listened to the younger boy apologise on behalf of Butch and Vail. A smile tugged at her lips. "Nice to know that there's at least one well-mannered person in your party," she said, although it was said jokingly. She wasn't as annoyed as she previously was. Since she was new to the city, she didn't want to have already made some enemies. The elf hardly even knew the city's layout; she only knew the busiest areas. In fact, Lynn Drewrith didn't even have a proper place of accommodation. Instead, she'd sleep in alleyways or would rent a room in an inn with stolen money. "Alright. When're we going for the drinks?" she asked. It would be nice for someone to pay for her.

His eyes would look the large knight over quickly, not especially liking what he saw. The man was clearly a warrior, meant more for open battle and dungeon crawls than the cloak and dagger work Dain partook in. But who knows, maybe what he needed really was a bunch of muscled up meat heads. For a brief moment, the idea of using them for handling the mage crossed his mind, before quickly being tossed aside. Terrible idea. Maybe he'd need the mercenaries for something Later. Bit honestly, it was Belegor and Lynn that he wanted to hire. "Alright Mr. Crow, that's fine with me. Just, ah, have your friends go wait somewhere else. Place we're going to doesn't receive large amounts of heavily armed guests well. Trust me." He said to the merc leader.

"And Miss Lynn, we are going, right this moment, to one of the best pubs this side of Aether, bar none. Now, to The Trapdoor Drinker!"

Name: Crow/Lynn Drewrith/Belegor Ironhammer/"Dain of Cythera"
Location: The Trapdoor Drinker
Time: 11:17 a.m.

The Trapdoor Drinker was a modestly sized pub, no larger than your average drinking establishment. The sign outside depicted a trapdoor spider exiting it's hole to grab a large mug of bubbling ale, with the pubs name written beneath it in a simple script. All in all, the place would have looked rather quaint, if it weren't for the dozen or so criminals that seemed to frequent the place often, all of whom seemed to have been enjoying their rather nice brunch before the foursome entered, only to turn back towards their nice brunch upon seeing the head of the group, none other than Alcamoth's resident King o' Thieves himself.

"Welcome to the Trapdoor Drinker, kiddos. Watch who you eyeball, and you should make it out okay," The mustachioed man said with a wide grin across his face. "I'm teasin', I'm teasin'! These lads wouldn't hurt a fly, despite their rugged looks. Chet over there knits sweaters for homeless children, Bingo here volunteers with the Church to help feed the poor, and Mick? Oh, Mick's the biggest softy here! I mean, he runs a bloody daycare for crying outloud!" Dain joked, getting few laughs from the men that would quickly release the tension in the bar. "Alright, now I need you chaps to go help an old lady get across the street or somethin'. I've got business to jaw about with these folks, and even knowing you lot are the softest bunch of kitten lovers to ever live, abscence is the better part of comfort. Ya get me?" With a few nods, the men would all leave the main area of the pub through various doorways, leaving the pub near deserted within moments.

"Alright, come along," The proffessional thief said, heading towards a large booth in the back, before sitting down on the left side.

Belegor didn’t think much upon entering the Trapdoor Drinker and seeing the clientele. He’d been to nearly every tavern across Aether, from the Red Cliffs to the Eerie. Tasted the finest of meads and the most watered down piss imaginable. The only thing that gave the Dwarf pause was the strange patron’s reaction to their entrance. They didn’t seem to be particularly pleased with the groups entrance, at least not until they saw Dain leading them in. Quite popular with the scum of Alcamoth apparently.

Or as Dain would tell it the kindest hearted individuals in the entirety of the ancient city. It made Belegor crack an amused grin before making their way to their booth. Setting down Grudge Bearer, Belegor sat down at the booth before waving down the bartender. “Hmm, nice pace here Dain. Seems as if you own the place the way you ordered those ‘saintly’ lads to take a hike.”

The bartender quickly made his way over to the table now that the group had arrived to take everyone’s orders, Belegor requesting a Vakarian Ale before turning his attention back to this potential employer. “So laddie, you want to discuss business? Let’s get down to it, what use could you have us this motley bunch. More to the point, what in the name of Cinders do you do?”


Crow laid back in his seat and removed his helmet to reveal his pale face. He sighed as he scratched his small stubble on his chin and cracked a grin as he requested the finest Ale they had. His employer was paying after all, so why not take advantage of it? As he made his order he listen to the Dwarf question their employer and couldnt help but smirk. "His personal life is not what we are here for my small friend, all we need to know is what he wants us to do," he stated and looked to Dain. "So, what is it ya want us to do? Stealing an item of interest? Put an end to someones running trap? Personal guards?" he asked and rested his head into the armored palm of his hand. "Or is there some other dirty work you dont want to do yourself?"

Belegor couldn't help but roll his eyes at the mercenary captain. "Perhaps you don't care about the kind of men you work for child, but that ain't the case for this Dwarf." Really he shouldn't be surprised Crow didn't care, mercenaries weren't known for being concerned with honor. Granted Belegor wasn't the most honorable of men at times, but he at least wanted to ensure he wasn't working for some sadistic, cruel bastard. Hardly unreasonable as far as he was concerned.

Walking in, Lynn grinned as she drank in her surroundings. "Now, this is what a real city needs," she said quietly to herself, being remind of Vakaris. The rest of Alcamoth seemed too lawful and—in other words—too boring. There was some kind of thrill about living in Vakaris.The need to constantly watch your back may seem like a downside to others but to Lynn it was like a whole other adventure outside of the plains. Sure, it was the reason why her teammates got robbed an decided to move to Alcamoth but Lynn was sure they wouldn't stay in a place like this for too long. It was as easy to gain money in Vakaris as it was to lose it; the traders never asked any questions.

The elf laughed as she listened to the banter between Dain and the pub-goers. Recalling the directions to get here, the elf thought to herself, I should come here more often.

Lynn sat in the booth and upon hearing that they served Vakarian ale, ordered it herself. I've missed that place, she thought, I need to find my team and get the hell out of this city. Being a thief, the elf wasn't really concerned with the ethicality of the job—more about how she would be affected; the last thing she needed was to be arrested before the tournament. "Listen, I gotta be at the tournament in two days so nothing that'd take too long. I don't suppose you brought us to this seedy joint to give us something legal. I can sneak around better than most thieves. Got something for me?" she said, unabashed.

Dain grinned at the three of them. "Now now, my good immoral friend, if he wishes to ask questions, than I am more than happy to oblige. You see, I represent a certain group of anonymous individuals who prefer to simply go by the name of The Organization, who are based primarily in the city of Vakaris. I currently bear the honor of having that wonderful, target painting title of King of Thieves. Of course, I hold no real power in the Organization beyond my own gang and a large influence in Alcamoth. With said title, I also have a few duties, given to me by The Organization. Protect the underground, and deal with anything believed to be a threat to the underworld's stability by either them or myself." Dain explained rather bluntly, as the bartender would come back with their drinks, leaving a plate of potato crisps in front of Dain.

"Thanks Otis," the King of Thieves would say, eating a few quickly. "Anyway, besides the 'King of Thieves' gig, I'm also the leader of the Spiders, proffessional thieves and the like, so I do technically own the bar, in a roundabout way. But any way, because of my vast array of connections, I've been able to find jobs for all of you, perfect for your wide range of skills including sneaking, and hitting things really hard until they're dead," Dain would go on, wiping his hands on his pants before continuing. "For Miss Lynn, I need you to case an estate, see where people go in and out, how they do it, what sort of security, the works. After that, I'd like you to work a crowd tomorrow when that 'Dhaunae the Magician' fellow preforms. Don't mess with him or his helpers while you do, cause it was hard enough to convince the bastard to let us work the people watching him, without him having a reason to reveal our activities."

"And for you two," Dain would say, looking toward the dwarf and the mercenary. "I need you two to work together and kill a right bloody bastard, a guy called Nel the Lamprey. Fucking freak started up a gang down in the lower eastside by the docks, cutting big, gaping circular holes inta people as his calling card, and generally fucking with the poor and honest working folk down there. I want him dead and out of the picture. Don't care how ya do it. Cut his hands off, drown him, whatever. I just want him dead. You all will be payed quite well, say sixty or seventy silver for each of you." Dain would finish, eating another of the potato crisps. "That all sound good to you three?"

The elf nodded. "Easy. Just need to know where the estate is, who it belongs to and you'll have all the information you need by tomorrow at the latest." To Lynn, this was easy money—money that she needed. "Just one question, though. How shall we keep in touch?" she asked.

"Just tell a beggar ya got a message for me. They all work for the Organization, in some capacity. Just remember to keep a few coppers on hand. Oh, and the estate's called the Mapleleaf Estate. Owned by a rich old bastard named Diarmaid Cian," Dain would tell her.

Having heard the name of the estate, a memory sprung to her mind. Ah, that place, she thought, remembering the large estate she passed on her way up to the tournament sign-up area. "I know which place you're talking about," answered the elf. She began forumalating a plan in her head. During the day, Diarmaid Cain will probably be out on business but it'll be light outside; no doubt on-lookers will see me climb into the building. However, at night, he'll be sleeping inside. She mulled over this for a while longer. With my cloak, if anyone took notice of me during daytime, I'd come across as fishy. The silverette had her right hand curled into a fist directly in front of her mouth and her eyebrows were furrowed in a look of deep thought. Best way in would be by the windows, she thought. That way I'd probably be able to bypass the guards—who would probably be sleepy at that time—and, if i'm quiet, will be able check around the house without waking up Cian. The best way way to test the security was to break in, after all, and that was exactly what Lynn was planning. From the inside, Lynn would be able to gather much more valuable information. If Lynn Drewrith could steal ruins from inside the tents of sleeping explorers, she could certainly do this.

"Try to avoid waking the old man up. He did survive the front lines of the war with the bloody orcs, afterall, and I frankly don't have much on how he's doing, health wise. He could be a doddering old man, or the equivilant of a paladin"

Lynn gave a quick nod to show her understanding. The gears in her mind were turning. Quietly, she sat, adjusting her plans.

Listening to Dain speak, Belegor was glad that he had asked for a bit of background on the man. Working for the ‘King of Thieves’ unwittingly wouldn’t have been a wise move. "An uniformed decision was an idiotic one." as Da used to say. There was little information on the Organization, if there was it would have collapsed long ago, but anything he did hear about them didn’t paint them as murderers or psychopaths. Rather thieves, con artists. They were Alcamoths shadowy underbelly. All in all, didn’t seem like a bad group to get on the good side of, especially the good side of its leader. It could offer plenty of resources in the future, something he would need access to if he had a flicker of hope of entering the Deluge Wetlands.

Even knowing who he was working for Belegor paused for a moment, stroking his golden beard before picking up a mug of ale that Otis had provided. Belegor had killed many a man, whether crushing their bones with Grudge Bearer or blasting a hole in their chest with Thunderer, but he wasn’t one to take lives needlessly. If what Dain said was true though, than this pile of shite surely deserved a bloody end. But this was the King of Thieves he was talking to, and this whole murder business could be a crock of shite as well. Course this wasn’t the first time he had heard of these twisted murders. If he had a chance to stop this sociopath from harming others, than he would. The silver would be a nice bonus as well.

Taking a deep drink of cool ale, he looked towards Dain, the look in Belegors eyes indicating he had reached a decision. “Alright your ‘majesty’, you’ll have my hammer for this. Sick bastards like that deserve nothing less than being bludgeoned to a bloody heap.” Belegor wasn’t expecting much in the form of a challenge. Street thugs think they’re tough and badass, but compared to the shit he had seen throughout the Enderarch and Deluge, they were little more than mewling babes swinging around sticks. Even still, he didn’t do any mission without all the details he needed.

“I’ll be needing a bit more information from ye though. First, any specific place in the eastside docks we can find this son of a bitch; what’s the bastard look like and how many lads stand between us and him.” Once he had this information, he and Crow could get to work. Hell, they could finish it by tonight if the Lamprey didn’t have a substantial gang around him. If he did, a bit more thought would have to be put into it. A blast from Thunderer would likely scare many of them off, but it could also attract the guard. Perhaps wait until the Lamprey was secluded enough to nab. Eh, all things to worry about later.

“Also, let’s bump that up to eighty-five silver. A fair price for putting our lives on the line.” In all honesty, seventy silver would have been plenty, but a bit of bartering never hurt. Every explorer and mercenary knew how, at least the successful ones did. And he needed every silver he could get.

Crow chuckled with delight as he took a large swig from his drink. Seventy silver was more than enough to end some scum bags life, but he liked the Dwarfs attempts to raise the price. Always have to aim high. Crow placed his drink to the side and looked to Dain. "Killing this bastard is an easy job really, me and my men have taken camps full of trash like this several times. If ya can give us information on his surroundings I can easily block off any escape routs with my men and me and my small friend here can put your little problem down like the dog he is," Crow sugested with a smile. It was true that this wasnt his first job that involved him killing some human garbage so this was just a basic plan for him. Trap the rat and go for the killing blow. "By the time we're finished our little elf of the night here shall be finished with her job and we can all get paid while singing joyfully within this very tavern," he said with a chuckle. He saw no flaws within his plans, not at all.

"Seventy or nothing. Maybe if and when you come back I'll pay ya more, but right now, seventy's all you're getting," he said, his tone becoming surprisingly hard for a moment, before going back to his normal, playful tone. "You couldn't miss him for a mile. The Lamprey's a slimey bastard. That isn't a metephor to say he gets out of tight situations easily, but he does have that ability too. I'm saying he is literally covered in slime. I'm telling ya, if an actual lamprey were to grow some fucking limbs and drag it's sorry ass out of the water, it and Nel would look like twins. And I ain't talkin' fraternal, either. Beside that, he's got a patchy grey beard, his hair looks like he cut it himself using a broken bottle of booze and no mirror, and he's always wearing an ancient corduroy flat cap, with a stupid red pom-pom on top. Like I said, unmistakable. Besides himself, he's also got about a dozen bozos workin' with him, and right now they're probably on edge after the last couple fellas I sent to kill him. When the fucker first popped up, he had nearly eighty scumbags in that shitty little posse of his," Dain told them all this, taking frequent pauses to eat more crisps.

"Honestly, the fucker's been a thorn in my side for nearly a month now. He's been cutting down our runners who talk with the captains, and has been making a general nuisance of himself this entire time. And like I said before, he's recently started fucking with the beggars and the dock workers, which is a big no-no when it comes to The Organization. When you kill the fucker, show the Lamprey's body to one of the beggars in the area, give 'em a few coppers, and tell them to get the info to me. I'll get the news before you get back. Oh yeah, and last I heard, he's currently holed up in an abandoned warehouse on the western most edge of the docks."

Unsurprisingly Dain was a hard ass and didn’t go up to eighty-five. Belegor still had a faint smile on his lips regardless, after all he had secured them a solid seventy, not that sixty to seventy bullshit. Plus they do a good enough job for the good ‘king’ he’d be like to increase it. Giving a nod that he was fine with this, he listened closely to the colorful description Dain gave of the Lamprey. He could have done without the slime part, but at least it would be near impossible to miss the cretin.

It would be simple enough to find the guy, and with Crow’s men cutting off escape routes it would be easy to finish him off. “Dozen street urchins won’t be an issue. Let’s just make sure yer men are cloaked Captain Crow, a bunch of armored louts traipsing about would raise a few red flags I imagine. Make sure they stay off to the sides to catch any runners, don’t want them getting in the way of our scrap. Knocking a couple of skulls around with me hammer will help me blow off some steam.”

Taking a final swig from his mug, Belegor wiped the foam from his beard before getting up from the booth. “Well my friends, if you don’t mind I got meself a tourney to sign up for. Captain Crow, I’ll see ye at the docks. Oh and Lynn, if ye’d be so kind as to meet me at the Drakefall Tavern this afternoon before our escapades. I have something to discuss that ye might be interested in.”

"Right. I'll be there," answered the elf. She didn't know what he wanted to discuss but was curious. Something I'll be interested in? she thought, perhaps another offer. Lynn hadn't known the dwarf for long enough but figured he'd be someone to trust.

Crow nodded and finished off his drink with a chuckle as he grabbed his helmet and rose from his seat with a grunt. "Alright then mates, I'm off to set everthing up with my men. We will be there and ready to cut down the bastards causing trouble for our dear employer here," he said before placing his helmet back on and walking towards the taverns exit. "And good luck to the elf, hope to see ya again in one peice," he chuckled before exiting the tavern.

Lynn scoffed as Crow left, offering nothing more as a reply. Looking down at the table, she realised that she hadn't even touched her ale yet. The elf picked up the tankard and took a few large gulps, as to not waste time. She left her tankard half-full; she didn't want to be drunk before her job. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she muttered her thanks to Dain for paying.

She turned her head to face Belegor. "I'm going to be taking the long way to Drakefall Tavern." She remembered the location of this tavern because the owner was somebody she asked about the whereabouts of the Enderarch Explorers. Continuing, she added, "I'm going to be passing the estate on my way to the tavern. Just in order to take note of things such as windows and guard posts."

Getting up, the elf smoothed down her cloak. After giving one final nod, Lynn skulked away out of the Trapdoor Drinker. Someone who was paying attention could have noticed that—even in this near-deserted bar—her footsteps seemed to make almost no sound.

Left all alone except for the man at the bar in the near empty bar, Dain sighed a little as he would put his feet up on the table, removing a large coin from his pocket. "Eyes will be watching," he muttered almost silently to himself.


Keidivh Joker987 Lefic Locklaklazarii (since I guess you're already in the bar)