Fantasy Rifts [IC][Closed]

[Breadman]

As soon as Fraskia stepped through the portal she could sense the moonlight beaming down on her and the salty air of the sea port. It was an unfamiliar scent for her as her travels have yet to take her far out of the heartland, but she was expecting it to happen sooner or later. She took the opportunity to look around their new environment. Same as any city she's been in. Only major difference seemed to be the presence of a dock. Shops, smiths, the occasional specialized service such as fortune tellers, enchanters and bankers dotted the streets. The people hurried about from their homes to the market or docks and back. She did notice that there seemed to be more exotic merchants around compared to most cities. How many of those items are actually magic and how many are just trinkets?

It's nice to be back to some sense of normalcy...felt like ever since Ember, normal hasn't sought us out.

"Feels like this is the abnormal." She answered Arnas "Don't get to stick to cities for too long in my line of work even when I'm not chasing after rifts."

 

[Chaos Gallant]

A significantly light load on Terrence's back shifted about as he organized his scant belongings a bit. It was much lighter than he'd usually travel with, but his main gripe was that he wished he'd brought a bigger bag. The satchel he had with him currently was barely large enough to hold an extra set of clothes. ‘How these adventures make do I cannot fathom.’ The orc thought to himself as he adjusted the straps over his shoulder.

Terrence took a deep breath of the saltwater breeze blowing through the port city. “Ah, if there were just a few more scamps running about, you could have fooled me into believing I was back home.” His eyes traveled swiftly among the many stores and vendors practicing their trades, taking note of everything they passed. The orc smiled seeing a few Dandolian traders as well, the familiar scent of a few spices tickling his nose as he watched them argue over shipping costs

“Normalcy, industry, mercantilism. A wonderful change of pace indeed.” He nodded at Arnas’ comment, watching as a dwarf tried to get his fair share for a fine weapon he'd no doubt spent plenty of hard work and time crafting. Terrence tried his best to not to intervene in the dealings, turning his head to address the rest of the party. “So, did anyone ask for directions to the tavern yet? While I do not mind stumbling around markets all day until it falls into our laps, perhaps it would be prudent of us to ask?”

 

[joshuadim]

"Feels like this is the abnormal." She answered Arnas "Don't get to stick to cities for too long in my line of work even when I'm not chasing after rifts."

"...doesn't it get lonely?" Arnas then asked, turning his head to Fraskia. "Being away from people I mean. Cities. Civilization...?" He wasn't a stranger to being away in the wilds for long periods of time; even before coming across Ember he had been on the road on his lonesome. For him, it was a lonesome experience that left him wanting: "I've traveled and... well, I've missed home. I've missed my dad and friends." Arnas then said, striking a chord in himself that he realized he hadn't before as he turned away just as quickly. He had left from home so abruptly that he didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Not to mention the inevitable reaction he knew his father would have for having left his sights.

He dreaded the day he would have to face him again and try to explain why he left in the first place.

“So, did anyone ask for directions to the tavern yet? While I do not mind stumbling around markets all day until it falls into our laps, perhaps it would be prudent of us to ask?”

Terrence's inquiry snapped Arnas out of his brief interlude as he let out a chuckle. "Right. Can't really know where we're going otherwise..." Arnas stated, looking around. "Surely someone knows the directions to our point." he muttered, observing the common folk and others passing them by as they minded their own business. A city guardsman standing at his post at the corner of a major street intersection caught his attention nearby and he led the group towards him.

"Excuse me! Would you happen to know where the Golden Talon Tavern is?" he asked.

The bearded guard looked at Arnas with confusion, blinking as he formulated an answer. "Uh... no, lad. Not a place that is familiar with me." he spoke, scratching his own cheek to get rid of a sudden itch. "Maybe ask around in the Salt Wharf? Sounds like where it would be."

"Salt Wharf...?"

"Ah, you're not from around here. My apologies. That's where the dockworkers all congregate, and the shops and tradehouses too. Follow this street downhill all the way down and you'll find yourself there." he then said, pointing downwards. The city was fortunately build on an incline, which made it visible to their directions as the journey down was easier on their weary feet. There was also the invisible boundary of smell that made it clear that they had entered the Salt Wharf, as sea spray, fish, and wood became the dominant scents that filled everyone's nostrils. The crowds also changed in appearance as they took on the form of sailors, dockworkers, and the militiamen that often times patrolled the area in search of smugglers.

It was there that Arnas stopped another of the guards and asked for directions, and was promptly pointed towards an establishment on the far end of the docks that jutted out like a shard of glass amidst the urban development. Built upon the very corner of the city block was an oddly shaped tavern that worked with what space it had available to it, with its sign proudly boasting "The Golden Talon Tavern" in its trademark golden lettering that was expected of it. An eagle's talon was carved into its signage to drive the point further home, which made Arnas chuckle. "At least this was more obvious than whatever was supposed to be at Leskau."

On entering, with the group following shortly thereafter, they were greeted with the sight of a few drunk sailors sleeping their woes away at various tables, a bartender with a tired and cragged face manning his post, and three other figures that looked out of place compared to the local patrons. An elf, a Morganthi draevir, and a dwarf with a pipe all sat at their own tables in wait, though had come to understand that they were all here for the same purpose that had now been revealed to them. The dwarf took a drag from his smoking pipe before speaking up first, observing the newcomers to the establishment.

"Ye lot must be the one's the Guardian was talking about." he said, kicking his feet up momentarily before hopping out of his stool. The dwarven traveler strode over to Arnas first and shook his hand. "Ornam Farstrider. Tracker, traveler, and wayfinder."

"Arnas Kollings... er, hired sword. Occasional beast slayer." the young mercenary responded in kind, trying to match the impressive resume presented.

The dwarf gave a smile from under his beard before turning to the others, as if expecting some other introductions to come forward.

Beann Breadman Chaos Gallant Infab Oreo Cookie Vexumin Worthlessplebian

 

[Breadman]

"Aye, it does." Fraskia looked to Arnas "But I have no family to call my own, save for the other knights at castle Vrana. I don't see most of them when I get back, but still meet every two years for a fortnight for a feast. We share ale, food and stories of the journeys we took." She reminisced about the times of revelry they shared, allowing Arnas to speak about his own family. "You'll see them again, once this guardian business is finished." She tried to comfort him as he was becoming visibly distraught "Think of the stories you'd share."

She continued to observe the city as they walked through its districts, noting the change of the type of people they passed by. The salty sailors now becoming more and more numerous and outnumbering everyone else, broken up by the patrolling guards. The smell she could do without. Finally they entered the tavern they were looking for. Inside an obvious trio stood out. The Guardian's people were easy to find.

"Fraskia Mountcrasher, rune knight from the Subotnitsi order." She introduced herself to the dawrf after Arnas. "We hunt monsters." She added, remembering that her order might not be as well known as they hope.

 

[Infab]

As the dwarf and others introduced themselves, the draevir finished off the ale that was left in the wooden mug before her. She had apparently already gone through two full mugs already, which were shoved across the table before her a short distance. Once she gulped it down, she set the mug among the others and grinned. Surprisingly tasty. Better than the other taverns she had visited lately.

She stood, sliding her chair back, and the others soon noticed just how tall this draevir was. Seven feet, towering over the group. She was clad in bits of polished armor across her torso and right side, decorated with embellishments like a skull or gold trim. Her left side was mostly unarmored, save for a boot and gauntlet, and brightly blue and white clothes were exposed for everyone to see. A crossbow hung from her back, which appeared to be of the heavy variety, and a quiver of bolts hung from her waist on her right side. She looked down upon them, her green and orange eyes darting between each, before she smiled again.

"Name's Levyis! You can call me Levy, if you'd like!" she said, soon reaching over and drawing off the table what appeared to be a massive sword just as long as she was tall. A proper zweihander. She stood it up next to her, the point resting against the floor of the tavern. "I'm a Dop...Doppel...Laaaandsss-ke..." she continued, appearing to struggle to pronounce her job title. She was quite clearly drunk.

She eventually huffed in frustration, then spoke again. "I'm a mercenary! A true frontliner! I stand at the front and wack things with this big sword o' mine! And I get paid double for it!" she said, her frustrated expression shifting back to a cheerful grin. "There! Can't stand trying to pronounce the whole title. Its like you have a mouthful of rocks."

 

[Beann]

Aelestra trudged behind the group quietly, taking in the surroundings of the city. She listened in on the conversation between Arnas and Fraskia, contemplating the feeling of being lonely. Other than her acquaintances at the monastery, she had no one to return to; no real place to call home. It didn’t bother her though and if it did, she kept it well hidden from herself.

After asking around for directions, the group eventually found their first point of interest, The Golden Talon Tavern. The Guardian had mentioned they would be meeting more of his associates here and it wasn’t too hard picking out the adventuring types from the common folk. Before they could decide who to approach, a dwarven patron immediately introduced himself, followed by a draevir.

She looked between the two new faces, taking note of their glaring height differences, and then bowed her head in greeting.

 

[Vexumin]

The elf at the table was occupying himself with a meal as the three were waiting for the Guardian or those accompanying him. Reece Cobalis had a rule when it came to travel and that is to never leave a town or city on an empty stomach. The second part of that rule is to also enjoy any food you can before you depart. So he was busy trying to fill up on what interesting meals he could. Of course, he calls this a rule, but it's really just an excuse to be a glutton. As the group steps through the door, he perks up, looking over heads before he ducks back down to start to shovel a few more bites into his mouth as people begin to stand and introduce themselves.

With puffed cheeks he also stands, an elf with skin slightly tinged blue and the pointed ears. In most other aspects he was actually rather average, at least for an elf. However, he also sported a sprinkling of light colored freckles across his skin. Perhaps a sign of his travels, that he doesn't have the fair skin of an elf who has hidden themselves beneath the canopies of their hidden forest homes. As for height, he was about right in the middle between his two table companions. Where one was quite tall and the other was on the shorter side, being a dwarf and all, Reece was right in the middle of the two. He also seemed like a softer fellow. Less battle hardened than some others.

Reece makes an effort to swallow the food in his mouth, beating a fist against his chest once or twice, and then offering a bow to the party that had entered. He puts a big smile on his face and is immediately drawn to the unique individuals that had come to meet them.

"Greetings to you all. I am Reece Cobalis, Cleric of Tereila. It's a pleasure to meet you all. I am a spell caster. My specialties are rejuvenation and purification. In short, I am a healer. I really hope that I will be of use to everyone."

He wondered if any gathered here would react negatively to his Clergy. Tereila is not recognized in many places or by many other faiths. He was curious if the slanderous name would be uttered after his introduction. The Cult of Colors. It's happened before, but reactions are never very extreme. The most common reaction to an introduction from Reece is shock and then hesitation. A sudden swell of distrust and suspicion. No matter what would come though, he would simply continue down this path with a smile. Such was his charge. His duty is to spread wonder and joy. He would do so, whatever the obstacles in his way.

 

[Chaos Gallant]

The Golden Talon proved to be a cozy little affair and much to Terrence’s relief it seemed their contacts were expecting them, and even past that well received their arrival. ‘Some perhaps a bit more so than others,’ The orc thought to himself as he watched in awe as the giantess of a woman stumbled through her introduction. Though he had never met a draivir before personally, it was good to know they weren’t any different from the rest of the rabble that roamed the taverns of Ergos.

He listened intently as the rest of their new acquaintances along with his current ones went through their introductions one by one. “You sell yourself short Arnas, by now I think could at the very least be titled ‘professional beast slayer’ if not ‘expert.’ I am almost certain by the end of this journey you might even be a master of your craft.” Terrence held out a hand to shake. “I am Terrence of the Family Halforth of Dandolio, and our talkative friend here is Aelestra a monk from Strathgarde.” Terrence gestured to the bowing monk so that her own introduction wasn’t left out.

“What are we drinking then? I am positively parched, and I imagine we will not be departing tonight?” Terrence looked between Levyis and Ornam to verify both the questions, but had already started towards the bartender before anyone was able to stop him. “Unless there is another reason not to indulge for a moment before our voyage west. I am sure even here in Gwell they have something worth sipping while we get to know each other?”

 

[Oreo Cookie]

As the party navigated the bustling Salt Wharf, Vera's senses were overwhelmed by the scents of dockside life—a sharp tang of salty sea spray mingling with the odors of fish and tar. Though pungent, the urban environs were a comforting return to normalcy, or as close to normal as it got around here. Crowds to vanish in, alleyways to slip into—was that nostalgia she was feeling?

Upon entering The Golden Talon Tavern, Vera's gaze casually swept across the establishment in habitual assessment. Daytime drunkards there. A stoney-faced barkeeper here. And three distinct individuals who stood out like beacons in a fog. A draevir, a dwarf, and elf, sitting in a tavern... It was almost akin to the beginning of a bizarre joke.

Introductions were exchanged, each with their own flourish, and Vera remained silent until a lull in conversation allowed her to speak up.

"Name's Vera." she stated simply, lifting her chin in greeting. "S'pose you can consider me a hedge-knight of sorts. Don't carry no fancy title or heraldry, though. What you see is what you got—a sword for hire who keeps things straightforward."

At Terrence's mention of drinks, a slight wolfish grin bloomed on Vera's face. "I second the orc's request. We deserve a round or three after all we've been through."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

The air was heavy with the musk of the salty sea, freshly-gutted fish and the fetid hint of rotted seaweed washed ashore or clung to the wooden beams, the scents of a bustling coastal town approaching the apex of its fishing season, ripe and plentiful on the acerbic breeze. It felt strange, a curious blend of familiarity and distinctly different, Edoardo was not certain whether the sea's closeness played a trickery on his mind. Still, it was not an unwelcome feeling, one that warrior-priest briefly sampled with a simple, deep breath. He unclenched his clawed fists, shuffling his feet after the rest of the party as they were directed to the Golden Talon tavern.

Immediately, they were introduced to the contacts orchestrated by the Guardian. Edoardo closed his stark, amber eyes, bowing slightly with a palm splayed across his chest. And I am Edoardo Vargas Melcher, Priest of the Mo'K'el Parish, It seems I've strayed far from the Marshlands." He spoke. His voice possessed of a feather-lightness, edged with relaxation, fitting for the room he belonged in the moment. Though it was still broad and bass, rasping like a blade over whetstone.

The differences between the contacts weren't unexpected, but it evinced the verifiable gamut of individuals the Guardian knew; a large Draevir woman, easily dwarfing those around her with a sword to match her stature, armoured in plate well-maintained, while the other was an Elf cleric, freckled features and keen, inquisitive eyes.

Edoardo half-turned, amber eyes gleaming brightly in the tavern's subdued light and jaw popped open. "Sparkling water, of course."

 

[joshuadim]

"Fraskia Mountcrasher, rune knight from the Subotnitsi order."

Arnas quickly turned his head to Fraskia in surprise, managing to stifle a laugh, as she introduced herself to Ornam. But before he could comment, Levyis barged into the conversation with visible drunkedness that took Arnas aback. Her height also made him shirk back somewhat as he realized just how tall the draevir was, and how her sword practically matched her almost as if it were an extension of her being. "I believe you." Arnas said when Levyis mentioned she was one to fight in the vanguard. "And you certainly won't be alone on that front with our lot." he then said, motioning his head to a few others in the group - mainly Edoardo and Fraskia.

"Ah, well. I'll be resting my laurels then as ye clear the path then." Ornam said with a hearty laugh, before puffing his pipe once more. "I'll occasionally use my bow if things get troublesome."

"We're expecting trouble now, are we?" Arnas then asked, crossing his arms.

"Eh, with the Guardian ye can always expect something to happen." Ornam replied, puffing out more smoke from his mouth.

"Greetings to you all. I am Reece Cobalis, Cleric of Tereila. It's a pleasure to meet you all. I am a spell caster. My specialties are rejuvenation and purification. In short, I am a healer. I really hope that I will be of use to everyone."

Arnas looked at Reece with visible confusion on mention of Tereila, as he waited for additional context to come. When it didn't, Arnas let out a chuckle: "Well, I'm not sure I know anything about this Tereila. But having someone to tend to wounds is always a welcome sight. We just lost our Alandran Priestess." the mercenary stated to Reece, making mention of Lucina - who had departed following the chaos at Leskau. He made a mental note to pry more about Tereilan worship later, until Terrence spoke up.

“You sell yourself short Arnas, by now I think could at the very least be titled ‘professional beast slayer’ if not ‘expert.’ I am almost certain by the end of this journey you might even be a master of your craft.”

"Aha... well, I've drawn blood from more men than I have beasts at this point." Arnas stated to Terrence, though he was flattered by the comment. "But a master? I've been only doing this for only 2 years. Granted, I was trained well by my father and others, but still..." He didn't feel comfortable with being labeled a professional, as he was far from it. Carrying out the Guardians job, however, would provide him with credibility to be called such.

“What are we drinking then? I am positively parched, and I imagine we will not be departing tonight?”

"I second the orc's request. We deserve a round or three after all we've been through."

"Sparkling water, of course."

"Pleasure ta meet ye Vera. Terrence. Edoardo." Ornam said, shaking all their hands. "As for drinks, well, this place serves a good mead!" He then turned and wave to the barkeep: "Drinks for all the newcomers! Make it fast!" He then gave Edoardo a slap on the arm as he mention of sparkling water: "And some rainwater for our scaled friend here." A large table beckoned the group with free seats available, allowing everyone space to enjoy their drink and room to view one another near and across. When Arnas took his seat, he found himself greeted with a tankard of golden liquid with a pleasant aroma as the barkeep put drinks for everyone. Edoardo in particualr received his requested water, though it was flat as the barkeep had no way to make it sparkling.

"So, Mountcrasher? How did that name come about?" Arnas asked Fraskia once she took her seat, a smirk taking hold on his face. "There's gotta be a good story behind it."

Beann Breadman Chaos Gallant Infab Oreo Cookie Vexumin Worthlessplebian

 

[Breadman]

There's gotta be a good story behind it.

"If you must know." Fraskia let out a sigh as she sat down on the table next to Arnas "In order to complete our training as knights, we have to pass a series of exams. One of them involved a riding exam. I was not a friend of the horses back then." The rune knight started to drink from her stein, hoping it would make her recount the details with less embarrassment. "I kept getting thrown off them. A few times on the ground, the mud and a few times in hay...even dung." She took another swig "On the attempt before my last one I ended up punching the horse from frustration. Horsepuncher would have been a better name, but it didn't stick." She looked to Terrance for a brief moment, thinking that in the future, he wouldn't let her near the cart let alone the horses. Then she looked back to Arnas

"The final exam was going well all things considered. I had good control over my steed, we were running through the markers in good time and I was scoring hits on the dummies around the course. Then I decided to try and get fancy..." One more drink "I cast a wind rune for an extra boost in speed and it did just do that...straight in the air. I believe we humans hunted the pegasi to extinction centuries ago, but for 3 seconds I believed I was one of the lgendary riders from the Halls of Valor....and then we crashed on the finish line." She pounded on the table with a palm "Horse was fine by some miracle and I passed. Technically." Another pause for a drink and then she snapped at him "So how about you, young monster slayer? Do you have a similar tale? Its only fair after I gave you so much material."

 

[Chaos Gallant]

Terrence took a seat at the table glad that he wasn’t the only one yearning for a bit of unwinding, it seemed like it had been an eternity since they were somewhere with a solid roof and without the immediate threat of danger. Though he supposed that was always able to change at the drop of a coin. He took a pinch of cinnamon out of his stores, tossing it over each of his shoulders before finally turning his attention to the drink in front of him and the story Fraskia had to tell.

The orc brought his tankard to his lips only to nearly shoot the liquid out his nose from the laugh that escaped him. “I think that ‘Mountcrasher’ has more decorum to it at the very least.” He set his drink down looking to Reece on his left. “So then, how did the Guardian get you wrapped into this? Does the Order of Tereila owe some debt and you were just unlucky enough to draw the short straw for this task? Maybe a better question might be what your order’s mission is, I do not believe I have heard of it. Is it a northerner thing?” Terrence looked between the elf, Fraskia, and Aelestra to see if they had any input.

Breadman Beann Vexumin

 

[Vexumin]

The elf did not immediately order himself a drink like some of the others, but that did not stop him from wanting to participate in the socializing aspect for the activity. It was also a good opportunity to offer more about himself to those gathered here. In truth, Reece did not often go into too much detail of his own story. He tended to off set questions about himself with his own questions about other people, fawning and admiring their tales over sharing his own. So it was a new experience to be asked about it so soon.

He set his drink down looking to Reece on his left. “So then, how did the Guardian get you wrapped into this? Does the Order of Tereila owe some debt and you were just unlucky enough to draw the short straw for this task? Maybe a better question might be what your order’s mission is, I do not believe I have heard of it. Is it a northerner thing?” Terrence looked between the elf, Fraskia, and Aelestra to see if they had any input.

This was an easy question for Reece to answer at the very least. He offered the orc a smile as he began speaking.

"Forgive me for not clarifying sooner. I am part of the Clergy of Tereila, the Goddess of Wonder and Joy. It is the charge of each of her clerics to spread what she represents to the world. I spread wonder by healing the wounded and curing the sick. Other clerics might have other means of doing the same. Though the order has been around for a long time, it's not like we go marching into cities or through wars chanting her name or anything of the sort. I met the Guardian some time ago, during the first outbreak of rifts twenty years ago. We worked together for a little while as I was studying the effects of the rifts and helping those affected by their appearances."

Reece soon decides to order a drink, but something light on alcohol. He wasn't much of a drinker anyways. He takes a slow sip once the drink is placed in front of him before he returns his attention to Terrence with a smile.

"I imagine you all met the Guardian about as suddenly as I had. However, it's nice to work with him in some capacity again, but I'm sure it'll be even more exciting with all of you!"

Reece seemed like a very genuine and innocent sort. Almost like he's still a kid in some small way. Perhaps that's another part of his charge under Tereila. Perhaps that is the effect that her boon has on all of those that serve under her. Just an infinite capacity to experience wonder and joy in all of its forms without ever growing numb to the experience. It's enough to make some envious. At least those that approach life with an abundance of cynicism or disinterest.

 

[Chaos Gallant]

“Ah, well, I will drink to that!” He raised his tankard up to any who would meet it before taking a swig of the mead. It certainly wasn’t the best Terrence had had, but by no means bad. He set the drink down, turning to the draivir. “How about you Miss Landsknecht? I suppose I could assume how the Guardian came about recruiting your services, but where would my manners be then... Or perhaps he beat you in a drinking competition and you owe him a favor?” The orc teased with a chuckle. Though they’d just met, the image of the immense woman getting drunk under the table by the hands of the smaller statured wizard seemed unlikely, but quite hilarious to him.

Infab

 

[Beann]

Once all courteous introductions were made, the group managed to snag a round table to accommodate their numbers. Aelestra sat quietly on Terrence’s right side, designating him as her personal translator should she ever feel compelled to give any input. She took the tankard of mead that was served to her and swirled it around, watching the liquid spin in a tiny whirlpool before leveling out. Alcohol wasn't her preferred drink as there were one too many personally bad connotations with it. Instead of drinking it, she set the tankard down and slid it over to Terrence. Fraskia’s story, while amusing, did not spark the same reaction that her orc friend displayed. She blinked in acknowledgement and then turned her attention to Reece, who explained further about the Clergy of Tereila. Both of their orders were more or less the same, minus the fact that her monastery didn't use healing magic to cure the sick or wounded. They did help in any way they could with limited resources but that was the extent of it.

Although she would not partake in drinking mead, Aelestra did feel rather parched. She waved her hand to signal Terrence's attention and signed: ‘milk.’

Chaos Gallant

 

[joshuadim]

Ornam couldn't help but laugh when Fraskia spoke of her misadventures upon riding a steed. "Hah! Reminds me of me when I was a wee lad. Trying to ride a mountain goat like the others were, only to tumble on the rocks! Haha..." the dwarf spoke jovially before taking another swig of his drink.

"So how about you, young monster slayer? Do you have a similar tale? Its only fair after I gave you so much material."

Arnas looked off to the side and scratched his chin to ponder the request, digging deep into his own memories to see if anything matched Fraskia's request. "Hmm... not sure if I have anything as grand as a mount story... but I do have a bit of a reputation back at Amber Crest for something I did younger."

"Amber Crest?" Ornam then commented with a burp, having already finished his newest tankard of mead. "Yer from that lot then? The Golden Company?"

"Well, I'm not a member. Not yet anyway. I've yet to pay my tribute to be fully initiated. That's why I've been on the road for the past couple of years."

"And now ye find yerself in the service of the Guardian? Great fortunes have befallen upon ye." the dwarf commented with a chuckle, "Whatever he pays you will be enough to get ye in for sure."

"I don't doubt it... anyway, where was I?" Arnas then said before continuing with his story. "About ten years ago, I was being taught how to shoot a bow and arrow by the quartermaster of the citadel: Mugar Routhu. A big orc from the Thunder Plains, about a head taller than you Terrence though his skin is red like clay. I was being taught how to maintain firing posture and how to properly focus on target, though it wasn't going particularly well. I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn truth be told. But then, as I was drawing the last of my arrows for practice, I did hit my shot. Though it wasn't on the target, but it had sailed right over it before striking old Jamis on the arse. From that day forth, Mugar and my father both agreed that I was better fit for a sword."

Ornam burst out laughing as he leaned back into his seat. "And how did this Jamis react? Hah!"

Arnas chuckled, rubbing the back of his head out of embarassment. "I don't think he likes me very much to this day still..."

Breadman Chaos Gallant

 

[Infab]

“How about you Miss Landsknecht? I suppose I could assume how the Guardian came about recruiting your services, but where would my manners be then... Or perhaps he beat you in a drinking competition and you owe him a favor?”

Levy was already halfway through another mug, before the question registered. She set the drink down, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, before speaking. "That's the word! Landsknecht!" she exclaimed with a grin, before continuing. "Oh, the Guardian? He came to me a while back, and said that he needed some help with a big problem. Some other men he had hired were having trouble dealing with some kind of... you know those big creatures with just the one eye? Kinda like ogres, but more ornery?"

She looked around, to see if someone named off what she was talking about, before shaking her head. "Anyway, I take the job, show up, carve the beastie up really nice, and everyone was happy! The guardian said he'd be in touch, and I've been taking jobs from him ever since."

She seemed to be talking more to herself afterwards. "Its nice to have someone that relies on you, fighting big beasties... gives me that old sense of pride and honor I used to have." she said, her voice trailing off to a whisper as she went back to drinking from her mug.

Chaos Gallant

 

[Chaos Gallant]

With a simple nod and smile to Aelestra, Terrence held up a hand to call for the bartender. “A tankard of milk for the fine lady here, would you?” Without skipping a beat, he took the monk’s first drink, placing it next to his own, which he grabbed and chugged down along with Levy. His ears perked up while he listened. “A cyclops, eh? I suppose that would be enough to make a return customer of the Guardian.”

Noticing that the woman might be losing herself in some less than pleasant thoughts, Terrence extended an arm, giving her a careful pat on the shoulder so as not to make her spill. “Well I for one am glad to know one as reliable as yourself will be joining us.” He took a drink from his second tankard, turning his attention back to the other stories that Arnas and Ornam had been spinning.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

Edoardo sat down, mug in hand, the ambers of his eyes glinted in the tavern's subdued light. Despite the water's flatness, the warrior priest hadn't been in a disgruntled mood — in fact, his expression particularly light and jovial, able to partake in a moment's rest from the duty set on him by the Guardian. His stark gaze wandered about the occupants gathered as they spoke, of their lives, of their encounter with the Guardian, and subsequent employment by his august office. Edoardo's head cocked to the side, attention keen.

He drank once, then offered Reece a Sobekon smile — jaw dropped slightly with wicked teeth gleaming. "Your Order has a noble charge, Cleric Reece, though I hope you can forgive my ignorance of it. I've met a variety of orders, both clerical and paladin on my ecclesiastical mission, but I've yet the honour of encountering yours." Edoardo began, knocking a clenched fist against his chest. "In the Marshlands, there is a similar fraternity for the disenfranchised, their charitable aid helps many in the waters." He paused to drink, crystalline water wetting away the dryness of his throat. "How long have you served your order?"

Vexumin (Reece)

 

[Oreo Cookie]

Vera sat comfortably reclined in her chair, the unfolding conversations and much-missed taste of mead a welcome return to normalcy after their recent travails. She was content to quietly drain as many tankards as she could, but the mention of Arnas' archery mishap couldn't help but rise a chuckle out of her.

"Arse-shooter, now there's an intimidatin' title if I ever heard one." Vera lightly quipped between sips.

She drained the rest of her tankard and looked over at Fraskia with a raised chin. "Oi, Mountcrasher, been meanin' to ask. That rune wizardry of yours—how's it work exactly?"

 

[Breadman]

"It takes a steady hand and a good eye to hit someone square in the arse." Fraskai patted Arnas on the shoulder. "I'm sure you could master the bow to hit them from further." Fraskia drank from her stein when Vera raised a question.

Oi, Mountcrasher, been meanin' to ask. That rune wizardry of yours—how's it work exactly?

"Hm." She placed the drink down on the table. "Simply put, its dwarven magic. Passed down to us from old sages that used to live near castle Vrana. They taught the first knights of our order how to spell out the runes and how to in turn make them using our fingers and palm." She raised a hand to demonstrate by performing half the motions for fire and stopped in order to avoid casting a fireball "How it works is a bit unclear to me. The old tomes were written a long time ago and mix fact with legend. Supposedly the runes speak to the elements. The fingers move and we ask them for aid as a favor and in turn the actions they take would feed them." Fraskia relaxed her hand on the table again "I can believe that in the case of frost and flame. Both of them leave traces and consume whats in front of them. Don't know if I can believe that for earth or air."

 

[Vexumin]

He drank once, then offered Reece a Sobekon smile — jaw dropped slightly with wicked teeth gleaming. "Your Order has a noble charge, Cleric Reece, though I hope you can forgive my ignorance of it. I've met a variety of orders, both clerical and paladin on my ecclesiastical mission, but I've yet the honour of encountering yours." Edoardo began, knocking a clenched fist against his chest. "In the Marshlands, there is a similar fraternity for the disenfranchised, their charitable aid helps many in the waters." He paused to drink, crystalline water wetting away the dryness of his throat. "How long have you served your order?"

Where some might hesitate at the sight of a toothy smile such as the one Edoardo might offer another, Reece seemed rather familiar with such things. He must get around quite a bit. He is a cleric who must travel to fulfill his charge. Who knows just where he's ended up. He offers the Sobekon a grin in return before he starts speaking.

"In complete honesty, many of my fellow clerics do not often share that they are members of our order. They do not require recognition or admiration for all that they do. Even then, many established faiths tend to speak poorly of us, or deny our existence at all. One of the more notable of our cause would be Skadra the Crimson. He does not wear his faith upon his sleeve like I do, but he is a cleric like myself. His charge is wonder through glory and battle. Feats of bravery and skill. He can be found just about anywhere that conflict is rising. Usually wars or skirmishes."

Reece seems to get lost in the memory of the Skadra for a moment. He has met the man a few times in pursuit of his duties. He has even found himself on the opposite side of the war faring cleric on a few occasions, Reece healing those that Skadra has wounded. However, despite having been at odds more than a few times, they share a respect for each other as members of the same faith.

"If you wish to pick out our lot among the many, something to look out for is our magic. It takes an almost... paint-like quality. Vibrant colors. A sort of representation of our Ladies will. As for how long I've served her? It's been just about thirty years so far, and I am ninety years old. A decent amount of time in service."

The elf seems so youthful. His smile, his features, all untouched by age despite nearly a century of life. He even speaks as if time has not worn at him either.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

Edoardo nodded along as Reece detailed the berth of his order's characteristics — not simply the covenant between God and mortal, but the valiant anonymity they imposed upon themselves. In a way, it reminded Edoardo of the vows, oaths his kind took when they enter the ecclesiastical brotherhood. Specifically, the Litany of Restraint, one of many mantras, mottos, lessons the priesthood receive and dispense. It stresses the virtue of indifference, especially when met with bribery or corrupting gratitude. A Sobekon should strive to act without the expectation of honour, reward, or appreciation, save for the honour one bestows upon himself for the deed. "Intriguing," Edoardo spoke, leaning back from the table. "If you've any questions about myself or the Marshlands, I'd be more than happy to illuminate the details. I thank you for the brief description of the Order's magics as well. It wasn't necessary, especially since the apparent hostility you must've faced." Edoardo tapped the emptied mug on the table, crossing his arms across his chest.

For a brief moment, Edoardo mused just how were the blessings of their Lady applied to them. Despite a century of life, one-third being devoted to the creed of Tereila, Reece seemed remarkably high-spirited. As if time's eroding influence held no sway over him. Was that a blessing of theirs? If so, it beckoned more questions about the involvement of the divine. Perhaps, it was simply the positive effect such a good-natured duty imparted like the cleansing of one's soul alleviating the rot of his skin. Though, if one can spread wonder through glory, then can wonder be spread through brutality? Edoardo questioned, but said nothing of the matter.

 

[joshuadim]

Ornam chuckled a few more huffs of laughter aloud, drowning it in mead to stop himself as the others quipped on Arnas' mishaps with a bow. Some of the liquid spilled out onto his beard as he slapped his knee before finally managing to compose himself. "Arse-shooter indeed!" the dwarf announced triumphantly following Vera's quip, "Menace of any enemy's bottoms! I'm already feeling great about our chances here." By this point, the barkeep had returned to accommodate Aelestra's request with a cup of fermented goat milk, a tangy and sweet smell emanating from the cup as its contents swirled about gently as it was set in front of her. Ornam on the other hand ordered another drink from himself, which was swiftly accommodated for as a fresh tankard was placed in front of him. As he enjoyed, he was content to listen to the exchange between Edoardo and Reece as he gulped down more of his golden brew.

Arnas in the meantime looked over to Levy as she explained her relationship to the Guardian, which did allow some semblance of ease to fill him especially after the sorcerer had asked him to lie to the others for the time being. Even if it was a transactionary relationship between the two, it was for the benefit of a common good to deal with greater nuisances. "I imagine that him dealing with such things would be a bit too much." Arnas commented to Levy, "Like using a boulder to crush a rat, from his perspective at least. Though we would be mice in that situation as well." A problem too difficult for normal mice to handle by themselves, lest they be quashed themselves. Arnas took a sip of his own drink before continuing: "...what did you mean by used to have honour?" the young mercenary asked of the draevir out of curiosity.

Beann Infab Oreo Cookie