Another wave of fog rolls over the city of Sarton, in from across the expansive blue-grey lake that the city was constructed on and next to. The city was one of the largest cities in the land, populated by most every race and though being based primarily on fishing, home to many types of business. The decrepit bodies of long dead convicts sway on ropes outside the city gates, a grim reminder to pickpockets and their ilk. The cobblestone streets are slick from the seemingly endless light rain. Several taverns across town are bustling with activity, filled with people trying to take shelter from the fog and rain. Taverns are well known as being paces where one can pick up a drink and a job.
A group of strangers has been called to one such tavern, one by the name of 'The Devil's Tail". A man cloaked in robes, sitting in a dim corner amongst the bustling customers, awaits their arrival.
(If you'd like to join, send a PM and I'll consider it)
Drago came to the city. Finally! he thought. He was travelling for many days...
He was wearing his black cloak with a hood, hiding his tail and horns. He walked in the rain, trying to find the tavern. He finally found it. He opened the door and walked in.
He was wearing his black cloak with a hood, hiding his tail and horns. He walked in the rain, trying to find the tavern. He finally found it. He opened the door and walked in.
After foraging in the wilds for more ingredients and materials, she decided it would be best to head back into the city. She had been wandering for a long while now, often trying to find more plants and herbs to use in her crafts, all the while heading towards the city. She thought it would be appropriate to head in for today and have a drink, as well as meet whoever was calling them.
She put the remaining plant bulbs into their orderly spaces within the trunk, and she fastened the lock, put it into her pack and walked through the gates. She headed towards the Tavern, and walked through the entrance.
She put the remaining plant bulbs into their orderly spaces within the trunk, and she fastened the lock, put it into her pack and walked through the gates. She headed towards the Tavern, and walked through the entrance.
When Drago saw the man, he knew that it was him. But, he still wanted to be sure. He walked over to the man.
"You are the one who called us, right?" he asked.
He looked at the man. Yup, it must be him...
"You are the one who called us, right?" he asked.
He looked at the man. Yup, it must be him...
Isabella glided down the stairs. It was a practiced, careful manner of walking... Deliberately graceful. The stairs worn from years of use, and warped by the constant lake side humidity were silent, an oddity as they they groaned and creaked for everyone else.
Her... Dinner Date... from the night before would not be joining her. They would never join anyone again... Save the residents of the local potter's field. She glanced around the public area, noting the various groups of patrons, and considering each. None seemed to be from the night before.
She made for the bar, setting a handful of coins onto the counter, attracting the attention of the barkeep.
"Room 3... Wishes to extend their stay another... Few days..." Her voice was a whisper, yet clearly heard as it seeped out from the shadows of her hood. The bartender nodded, but waited to take the money until her hand dropped away from it.
She moved away, deeper into the serving room... People subconsciously pulling away, or shifting out of her path as she made for a small, poorly lit table... Away from the fire and windows the little illumination that existed came from a lone candle burning low. A draft could be felt, which, coupled with the poor lighting, was likely why it was still vacant during such a busy night.
She removed from some internal pocket of her robes a folded scrap of parchment. She opened it, and read the writing... Again. It was an invite... More a summons... Short and adamant about time and location, but the reason vague. The signature at the bottom hard to discern.
It had been amongst the belongings of the man from last night.
A man she had never met before.
Yet it had her name on it.
Her... Dinner Date... from the night before would not be joining her. They would never join anyone again... Save the residents of the local potter's field. She glanced around the public area, noting the various groups of patrons, and considering each. None seemed to be from the night before.
She made for the bar, setting a handful of coins onto the counter, attracting the attention of the barkeep.
"Room 3... Wishes to extend their stay another... Few days..." Her voice was a whisper, yet clearly heard as it seeped out from the shadows of her hood. The bartender nodded, but waited to take the money until her hand dropped away from it.
She moved away, deeper into the serving room... People subconsciously pulling away, or shifting out of her path as she made for a small, poorly lit table... Away from the fire and windows the little illumination that existed came from a lone candle burning low. A draft could be felt, which, coupled with the poor lighting, was likely why it was still vacant during such a busy night.
She removed from some internal pocket of her robes a folded scrap of parchment. She opened it, and read the writing... Again. It was an invite... More a summons... Short and adamant about time and location, but the reason vague. The signature at the bottom hard to discern.
It had been amongst the belongings of the man from last night.
A man she had never met before.
Yet it had her name on it.
The man slowly reaches up and pulls back his hood revealing himself as an old man with grey hair and one blind, milky eye. He addresses Drago and the approaching Isabella. "Greetings to the both of you... My name is Vellwynd and I am the one who summoned you here to Sarton. We shall wait for the others to arrive, and then I will endow your mission upon you. In the meantime ask any questions you'd like." He sits back, taking a sip from his small glass of an unidentifiable liquid.
Drago only nodded and sat down. I am curious what will our adventure be... he thought. He looked to Isabella. He smiled under his hood. Only two left! he thought. He was always really excited, when he went to adventure. This was a little bit different, because he always went to them alone. But still, he was excited.
She headed inside the tavern, and saw the group huddled together amongst the banter and merriment inside the Tavern. She headed over to the group. She looked towards the man once she walked over. "You're the bounty-man, correct? I'm a bit late aren't I? Sorry about that, I just found a grouping of thorn-hagrid in the woods and took the chance to get it while I could."
"It is okay. And we are still waiting for the last one..." Drago said to her and chuckled quietly.
He was really curious who will it be.
He was really curious who will it be.
Isabella pauses in walking, and glanced up from the summons when the man spoke. She looked back to the letter, then back to the man, studying him... And then shifting her gaze, letting it linger over Draco... He was eager. She would give him that.
Admittedly, she was not keen on the situation as a whole. Mysterious calls to attend meetings about vague missions. At the same time, when someone puts forth the effort and thought to so... Specifically deliver a message... There was almost an obligation to at least listen.
At about this point, Myra arrived, prompting another round of casual study... The reference to the herb suggested some familiarity with potions... Or cooking... Maybe both. Briefly, she wondered if her legs would grow back, if lost... She made a mental note to ask.
It was... An interesting group... So far.
Not particularly interested in joining in small talk, Isabella simply stepped toward the table and took a seat opposite Vellwynd.
She lowered her hands to either side, so that they both hung down toward the floor; the parchment still in her left hand. She whispered quietly, indecipherable words that sounded both strange and elegant, while her free hand danced subtly at her side. She stopped, just as quickly as she began.
The parchment rests on the floor beside her chair, where she had dropped it... A slight chemical odor is detectable... As the conjured acid works to disintegrate it. This meeting felt... A private affair; No reason to leave a paper trail.
She raised her hands, taking a moment to push her own hood back, before casually folding her arms on the table before her. Her face is now exposed to her host and possible cohorts; a polite gesture. She looks like a normal, reasonably attractive human... Yet something about her just feels... off.
"Isabella Cotton," her voice still the loud whisper; one that carried oddly well in the busy room... She said her name, not for the man across from her, whom had orchestrated this meeting, but instead for the benefit of the others.
Admittedly, she was not keen on the situation as a whole. Mysterious calls to attend meetings about vague missions. At the same time, when someone puts forth the effort and thought to so... Specifically deliver a message... There was almost an obligation to at least listen.
At about this point, Myra arrived, prompting another round of casual study... The reference to the herb suggested some familiarity with potions... Or cooking... Maybe both. Briefly, she wondered if her legs would grow back, if lost... She made a mental note to ask.
It was... An interesting group... So far.
Not particularly interested in joining in small talk, Isabella simply stepped toward the table and took a seat opposite Vellwynd.
She lowered her hands to either side, so that they both hung down toward the floor; the parchment still in her left hand. She whispered quietly, indecipherable words that sounded both strange and elegant, while her free hand danced subtly at her side. She stopped, just as quickly as she began.
The parchment rests on the floor beside her chair, where she had dropped it... A slight chemical odor is detectable... As the conjured acid works to disintegrate it. This meeting felt... A private affair; No reason to leave a paper trail.
She raised her hands, taking a moment to push her own hood back, before casually folding her arms on the table before her. Her face is now exposed to her host and possible cohorts; a polite gesture. She looks like a normal, reasonably attractive human... Yet something about her just feels... off.
"Isabella Cotton," her voice still the loud whisper; one that carried oddly well in the busy room... She said her name, not for the man across from her, whom had orchestrated this meeting, but instead for the benefit of the others.
The night and day were mixed well, as a master's potion. So then did the fog of a city unkown to Suyana spin her as she approached.
The short, rather wiry traveler rose abive the apex of a small hill, a torn cloak hiding her face. She stood for a time still, examining the city that lay before her. She grumbled, annoyed that her routine had been interrupted for a task this far away. The wasteland put before Suayana was almost comical in the snow elf's mind, "Worse than Varias, my own home. A surprise that is!" Mumbled the elf.
More fog rolled over the city, reducing her limited view. The elf again showed displeasure, but hid her rage, instead choosing to enter the city.
As she traversed the city roads, sparsely did a sould meet her eyes. The warrior ignored all, focused upon her goal.
In the dustance sat her target, The Devil's tail. A lonely place, no more crowded than the restless city it was in. So then, it was no surprise that a crowd of a few in the corner was her's. The elf scoffed, crossing the tavern grounds quickly, looking to the old man. "If it is you who summoned me here? If so, speak and explain why Suyana spent her energy to make rhe trip." She proclaimed impatiently.
The elf did not care for long conversations, and this gathering worried her thus. Nonetheless, she stayed, awaiting a response.
((Floatch gave me the all clear to post btw))
The short, rather wiry traveler rose abive the apex of a small hill, a torn cloak hiding her face. She stood for a time still, examining the city that lay before her. She grumbled, annoyed that her routine had been interrupted for a task this far away. The wasteland put before Suayana was almost comical in the snow elf's mind, "Worse than Varias, my own home. A surprise that is!" Mumbled the elf.
More fog rolled over the city, reducing her limited view. The elf again showed displeasure, but hid her rage, instead choosing to enter the city.
As she traversed the city roads, sparsely did a sould meet her eyes. The warrior ignored all, focused upon her goal.
In the dustance sat her target, The Devil's tail. A lonely place, no more crowded than the restless city it was in. So then, it was no surprise that a crowd of a few in the corner was her's. The elf scoffed, crossing the tavern grounds quickly, looking to the old man. "If it is you who summoned me here? If so, speak and explain why Suyana spent her energy to make rhe trip." She proclaimed impatiently.
The elf did not care for long conversations, and this gathering worried her thus. Nonetheless, she stayed, awaiting a response.
((Floatch gave me the all clear to post btw))
The old man swathed in mysterious robes gives simple nods to the last two members as a greeting. He takes another drink from his cup and sets it down. "Yes, now that we have all assembled, I will deliver your mission to you." He shuffles in his seat, pulling a piece of parchment from the folds of his robes."I have been in search of an ancient library, one possibly holding unfathomable amounts of knowledge. I finally have a lead but I am too old to seek the library myself. I want you to find it for me. You must travel to Alinar (a small nearby city) and find a man by the name of Siasmus Raegemund. He will fill you in completely. The rewards will be worth any risk, I guarantee you."
He stop and folds up the parchment. "Go outside and talk to the man near the stables. His name is Angrim. He will be your guide."
He stop and folds up the parchment. "Go outside and talk to the man near the stables. His name is Angrim. He will be your guide."
Drago nodded. This really sounds interesting... he thought, my first adventure is here! I am really excited!
He looked at others. He waited. He didn 't want to stand up first. He moved his tail a little bit. Why do I always do that? I know, it is under the cloak, but... Still it is dangerous.
He looked at others. He waited. He didn 't want to stand up first. He moved his tail a little bit. Why do I always do that? I know, it is under the cloak, but... Still it is dangerous.
Isabella turned her head, enough to see the newest arrival with the curt, lightly hostile introduction... And looked back to the old man. She listened quietly to his proposal... This search for some ancient library.
It was vague... Just like the letter that brought here here. Enough to tempt ones curiosity... But not actually provide anything useful. The mix-breed next to her may have been blindly excited, but she was a little hesitant.
She contemplated how best to word the question... Whether they found it or not... His ability to get there wouldn't change... He would not get younger... The location of the library would, at best, be confirmed; not altered.
"Are we to... retrieve anything from the library?" She was staring... Not by conscious decision, but because sometimes... Her eyes just forgot they were supposed to blink. At least it wasn't as bad as when her heart occasionally forgot a beat...
It was vague... Just like the letter that brought here here. Enough to tempt ones curiosity... But not actually provide anything useful. The mix-breed next to her may have been blindly excited, but she was a little hesitant.
She contemplated how best to word the question... Whether they found it or not... His ability to get there wouldn't change... He would not get younger... The location of the library would, at best, be confirmed; not altered.
"Are we to... retrieve anything from the library?" She was staring... Not by conscious decision, but because sometimes... Her eyes just forgot they were supposed to blink. At least it wasn't as bad as when her heart occasionally forgot a beat...
(it seems the post order is a bit weird, do we have one?)
"A Library? Should we expect anything malicious to be there if we find it? And is it supposed to be particularly unique or ancient? As well, if we do find it, can we take some of the books from it? I could use another compendium, just imagine all the unique recipes those books would have." She briefly looked over to the others.
A strange young man, err, more so a boy, with seemingly a tail and horns on his head. And two other women, one from seemingly a line of an elvish race, and the other a human.
"A Library? Should we expect anything malicious to be there if we find it? And is it supposed to be particularly unique or ancient? As well, if we do find it, can we take some of the books from it? I could use another compendium, just imagine all the unique recipes those books would have." She briefly looked over to the others.
A strange young man, err, more so a boy, with seemingly a tail and horns on his head. And two other women, one from seemingly a line of an elvish race, and the other a human.
(There isn't an established post order but I could set one up if you like)
"As soon as you find this library, you are to report to Siasmus or directly to me, and do not remove anything from the library, if you find it, as I would like to see the contents first, and some of the manuscripts may be so ancient they will crumble at the slightest touch without a proper mage around to keep them together." Vellwynd pauses. "As for malicious things, I haven't a clue what to expect, but if I were you, I'd be prepared. I'm sure that Siasmus can fill you in more." He stands up, pushing himself up from the table. "Now let's not keep Angrim waiting, eh?"
"As soon as you find this library, you are to report to Siasmus or directly to me, and do not remove anything from the library, if you find it, as I would like to see the contents first, and some of the manuscripts may be so ancient they will crumble at the slightest touch without a proper mage around to keep them together." Vellwynd pauses. "As for malicious things, I haven't a clue what to expect, but if I were you, I'd be prepared. I'm sure that Siasmus can fill you in more." He stands up, pushing himself up from the table. "Now let's not keep Angrim waiting, eh?"
Suyana remained silent throughout the conversation, impatiently standing with crossed arms as she waited for the the strangers words. As the man drew to a close, the elf was cued to leave. Suyana took a moment to stop, willing herself to look about the group, not keen on working with what she saw as fools and outcasts, the latter akin to herself.
After thoroughly examining this odd group with a harsh lens of judgment, the elf spoke quickly, commanding, "Let us go then." In a rather annoyed tone. As the words crossed her lips, she darted from the tavern. The elf halted outside, watching the road warily. She stood outside in the light mist, again waiting impatiently for the rather ragtag circle to call an end to their meeting.
After thoroughly examining this odd group with a harsh lens of judgment, the elf spoke quickly, commanding, "Let us go then." In a rather annoyed tone. As the words crossed her lips, she darted from the tavern. The elf halted outside, watching the road warily. She stood outside in the light mist, again waiting impatiently for the rather ragtag circle to call an end to their meeting.
"Bring nothing back... Touch nothing..." Isabella nodded slowly. Her gaze turned toward the ceiling, considering her options... Listening the brash elf left. She drew her hood back up as she stood, her attention drifting back to the old man. "Of course... You are right. Cannot keep our guide waiting. Especially on a night like this..."
As she turned to go, she pause beside Myra, turning to face her. Her voice was the same whisper, but seemed to lacked its ability to travel. "Whatever awaits, our Mage host does not wish to face it..."
And she would continue walking, though instead of heading directly outside, she would turn back upstairs... Only to return a few moments later with her effects collected and in tow. The speed of her reappearance accurately suggested she had packed ahead of time. Her mouth was full, jaws noticeably working to chew down some final bite for the road...
The presented task was interesting, but truth be told, Isabella simply valued it as a good reason to leave... Having a vested interest in being well away from the town when they checked on that room.
She pushed out through the door and into the unpleasant weather.
As she turned to go, she pause beside Myra, turning to face her. Her voice was the same whisper, but seemed to lacked its ability to travel. "Whatever awaits, our Mage host does not wish to face it..."
And she would continue walking, though instead of heading directly outside, she would turn back upstairs... Only to return a few moments later with her effects collected and in tow. The speed of her reappearance accurately suggested she had packed ahead of time. Her mouth was full, jaws noticeably working to chew down some final bite for the road...
The presented task was interesting, but truth be told, Isabella simply valued it as a good reason to leave... Having a vested interest in being well away from the town when they checked on that room.
She pushed out through the door and into the unpleasant weather.
(It is okay if I have short replies?)
Drago followed them. It was still raining. He looked around. Still the same weather, he thought and sighed. He looked at Suyana first, then at Isabella.
"Well... Sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Drago," he said, and blushed a little bit under his hood.
Drago followed them. It was still raining. He looked around. Still the same weather, he thought and sighed. He looked at Suyana first, then at Isabella.
"Well... Sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Drago," he said, and blushed a little bit under his hood.
(Short-ish replies are fine, yes)
Angrim leans against the termite ridden walls of the stable, several horses prepared for the group of adventurers. Angrim mutters to himself, "That old fool had better send them out soon. This damned town will be the death of me yet." He shivers a bit from a cold draft that seeps in through the timber. "The smell of fish will haunt these robes forever." he chuckles a bit as he smooths the fur on the collar of his cloak.
Angrim leans against the termite ridden walls of the stable, several horses prepared for the group of adventurers. Angrim mutters to himself, "That old fool had better send them out soon. This damned town will be the death of me yet." He shivers a bit from a cold draft that seeps in through the timber. "The smell of fish will haunt these robes forever." he chuckles a bit as he smooths the fur on the collar of his cloak.
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