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Caerwyn hated dreams. They never foretold anything good. At least in his line of work. They were always so dark and damned fucking depressing. Usually nightmares of some lingering guilt hidden by the disguise of making no sense to any outside observer. Sometimes he even saw her there, beckoning to him. Catalina. Her slender hand outstretched towards his, the callouses of a fellow practitioner of the blade. Her long brunette hair twisting in the breeze, carrying the scent of lavender and cedar smoke. Even six years later, the sight of her in his dreams dragged up the memories of old wounds. A time long past. But it was this dream that was interrupted. Instead he saw another. This bore less semblance of a dream. It was more of a vision. And it was this vision that broke his sleep early.
His silver-white eyes opened, the cat-like irises forming fine slits to filter out the sudden shining of light. This brought a groan of irritation from his lips. Another horrible night's sleep. This time it was something to go off of. He made his way over to the wash basin in his room at the local inn, jolting himself awake from the residual coldness of the still water upon his hands, face and neck. He looked up into the mirror, examining his reflection, not particularly liking what he saw.
For one, he was pale, almost sickly so. To the point that it couldn't be found attractive unlike certain vampires. Another was how it was contrasted by the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble that he'd been growing for the past few months (what would take most people a couple days) that matched the ebony of his neck length hair. Another fact was that aside from his head and face, his body lacked any other form of hair. Just one of the side effects of the mutations. On the plus side, at least there was no manscaping to worry about. One point that might be considered attractive is his build. He was tall and broad shouldered, bearing a toned athletic physique. Yet even this was tainted by the countless scars of many battles past. Marks left from all sources. Swords, axes, arrows, claws, talons, fangs, and even some spell scars. However, the one scar that stood out the most was the one in the very center of his chest. It was in the dead center of his chest with a slight angled curve towards his left peck. To an astute mind, this would be left by a puncturing talon of a rather large dragon. Hanging just above this was the one item he never removed from his person: His Witcher's medallion. A silver pendant on a chain shaped into the face of a snarling wolf. Caerwyn examined all of this in the mirror before he chuckled a bit, realizing how vain or depressed he must appear to be if anybody were to be observing him. Having decided that he was satisfied, he decided to get ready for the day. The sooner he got going, the sooner he might get to the bottom of this vision he had. It mentioned others. So perhaps people will be talking about it.
When it came to clothing, the Witcher was not all that impressive. His attire was simple and meant more for comfort and functionality than style. In fact, the only nice things he wore was his arsenal. He put on his baldric and adjusted the straps with a quick and practiced hand. Most of it was already pre-set in order to slip in and out of it with ease. This way it was only a few adjustments to secure everything in place. The main event was the two longswords in customized scabbards hanging over his back, peaking over his left shoulder. Then across the front was what one would expect from any monster hunter: Five silvered throwing knives, four vials filled with gods know what, two slots where explosives might have gone at one point, a dissection and common use dagger, and an enchanted satchel in order to hold his extra supplies so he could look like he was travelling light. Satisfied, he made his way out of the room, locking it behind him to head to the tavern. If there was anywhere that might be a great place to start, it was ALWAYS the tavern.
As he walked in, his eyes scanned over the room, giving them a calloused look. It was all a part of his game. Look like you didn't give a damn and you were usually left alone. And he would keep this act up if not for a particular sight. A group of people. Though one in particular stood out to him. This caused the Witcher's lips to shape themselves into a grin. He made his approach, his strides silent and purposeful. He approached the paladin from behind, while he seemed to be busy. The PERFECT time to interrupt him. He put on a feigned surprised voice as he spoke.
"Well well well. And here I thought you were too nice to simply say you never wanted to be in the same town as me, Cassius." It was still a guess, but there was absolutely no damned way that there was somebody who looked exactly like him. His eyes looked over the paladin, his smile still plain as day. This caused him to look over at the rest of the group, the artificer in particular, who seemed to be having trouble. Caerwyn gave each of them a polite nod of the head.
"Now what seems to be the matter THIS time, paladin?"

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Cassius turned hearing the familiar voice, his composure breaking for a moment as he beheld the face of his friend and one time adventuring partner. "Caerwyn!" He exclaimed, then gripped the man in a warm and welcoming hug. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other. The two of them had been a notable team for a while, but as time went on, they found themselves pulled in separate directions. Cassius had always hoped to see his monster Slayer friend again though, and was overjoyed to see that wish fulfilled. Cassius pulled away from Caerwyn then, and allowed him some breathing room before answering his question. "Heh, oh the usual. Arresting felons and hauling them in for questioning. This one is odd though. He and these others say they share a vision, a vision of a battle at world's end, with a mad sorcerer and a hero king, wielding a sword of lightning with his heart blazing in defiance. You wouldn't know anything about such a sword would you?"
The whole... conversation had been rather interesting. She really had not been the only one to see what had shown itself the night before. By now, the female paladin was only half-heartedly eating her breakfast, more concentrated on listening in to what was happening around her and trying to form a plan of action. Unless her guide outright stopped her, she would see to put a stop to this sorcerer one way or the other. Some things just could not be left alone and it seemed that the follower of Bahamut was set on investigating into the matter as well. Very well, she would offer her help once she was done eating and he was done greeting his friend.

As to the matter of the supposedly admitting thief - there was a time and place for everything but without evidence, no proper arrest could be made. It was one thing to admit to a deed, but there needed to be thieved goods on the person or with his belongings as well. Or an eye-witness. Simply arresting on suspicion was fine but prolonged detainment was not. IF it came to that, she would have to step in. Just as her guide had once put it - there was a difference between justice and self-righteous justice.
Caerwyn's smile changed to a grin as he embraced his friend as well. Whenever he and somebody parted ways, it was usually forever. Though he had not wanted that to be the case in terms of his paladin friend. They worked rather well together when they did so. He had parted ways when there was quite a bit of a dry spell. While he understood if Cassius was willing to remain in one place and wait until orders came from his order, the Witcher did not have that luxury. That and he wasn't exactly the biggest fan of charity. As he listened to his friend explain the situation in detail, he seemed to freeze. Surely it wasn't this easy? He took a few moments to respond.
"I would have to do some research on it, but I had the same vision as well. The sword isn't all that familiar." He wanted to ask about current theories, but then the idea came to him. As much as he could respect Cassius' need to follow the laws of the land, it DID get in the way from time to time. If this supposed thief had the same vision, he wouldn't he helpful behind bars. And now he had his portable lie detector back. So it all worked out. HE turned to the artificer and spoke to him and Cassius.
"Unless it was in this town, I highly doubt you have anything to go off of in terms of arresting him. Besides, I remember part of your oaths, Cassius. It is to the GREATER good. If there is some plot for the end of the world going on that we're all aware of, petty larceny takes a back seat in my eyes. Wouldn't you both agree?" Truth be told, he didn't exactly care about stopping crimes. It wasn't his job. And he got the feeling this was going to be a time where they would definitely need all hands on deck. While he waited for a reply, he helped himself to an empty seat, not bothering to wait on formality or niceties. He noticed the female, he gave a light shrug to the whole situation. As if saying I don't know. It makes sense to me
..
..
Leo quickly caught the money, biting the coin pleased to confirm it was real and silver and pocketing it before he looked over to answer

"That sword simply doesn't exist... yet. It is one of a kind which has to be hand crafted specifically for the evil one it is intended to destroy. Sword and sorcerer must be bound so that, calling upon the sorcerer's name, it awakens the sword's deadly power, you know, the lighting around its edge.

Crafting that sword is an arduous and very dangerous task which requires relics, items belonging to that sorcerer to make the binding with, who knows where those might be. Sorry but it's not worth the trouble and effort" concluded Leonardo
Cassius's expression grew grim and serious upon hearing Leo's words. The prospect of betrayll, or aiding and abeding the enemy was one that he took VERY seriously. He would've let Leo have it with both barrels, so to speak, then and there, if he had not reached out his hand for payment. Cassius siezed the initiative here, grabbing Leo's hand as if in a shake that sealed a pact. "I'll tell you what arteficer. You help me find out more about this vision, and stop it if it is some kind of threat, and in return you'll go free. Does that sound like a deal?"
Caerwyn looked to Leo as he clearly wanted more money out of the situation. This rather annoyed the Witcher. This often meant that somebody didn't have more information, they were just taking you for a ride. But, sure enough, one of the others at the table paid him and said the exact info he was expecting. Obvious. Then he listened to Cassius's deal. He decided to speak up again.
"Look. We all had the same vision, which means that something is definitely going on. It makes more sense if we all simply get along and get to the bottom of this. Usually in these sorts of situations, potential riches often follow if you're smart. So it makes more sense if we work together on this. Doing nothing usually means something bad happens. Almost like those mystery books where people keep getting picked off whenever they stray off." As much as he disliked working with strangers, it made sense to at least try to get everybody to play nice. He got the feeling that either way they were all going to keep running into each other whether they wanted to or not.
"Nah... I was free last night already, and the one before I was free too and with company and all, and the one before that I was free with company as well, it ain't that appealing.

I got beaten up by drunkards the first night, stabbed and almost robbed the second one and, with the invisibility ring, I was able to sleep some last night, cold and wet outside in the rough, until the nightmare came to ruin that comfort too.

You get to go hungry all day and night too when you're free, a free vagabond.

Getting arrested just got me a hearty meal, a lively song, some warmth, some silver and assured protection from a unique bodyguard, not bad, not bad at all, you should try it" muttered Leo waiting for the food patiently, though he occasionally winced at the untreated badly-wrapped injury. His eyes trailing over to the ranger's book of artefacts and relics which was much too tempting to ignore.
Beragash, stunned by the realization that several tavern patrons were commenting on what he thought was his dream, and his dream alone, stood and walked back to his lute.

"I... I think I need to go for a walk, clear me head," he commented, fishing the instrument from where it had been placed, and walked through the front door.
Cassius looked to Caerwyn as he spoke, listening intently to his words. He nodded once he was finished, then turned his attention back to Leo. He had to chuckle a bit at his end point, then noticed his wincing. "Are you injured? I can heal you if you are. It won't fix anything serious, but it will close your wounds and remove any pain you might be in." Though Cassius was a stickler for law and order, he was not without compassion. After all, prison time was punishment enough for most people, and even in the cases where it wasn't he would never stoop so low as torture, especially not by allowing a wound to fester. Cassius understood Beregash's predicament when he excused himself, and allowed him to go without question. He was no criminal, at least not as far as Cassius knew, and until that changed he was free to do as he pleased.
Angelo scored a profit of 3 gold crowns and 56 silver. You arrive soon enough at the inn as a mismatched bunch of strangers are in deep talk about your vision. the other patrons dumbfounded by the odd group.
-
The party makes their exchanges as the united recollection seemed to spark a voice in their mind, "I don't know why I even follow this blasphemous hunt of yours. You can't kill a god Len, and doing so could scar the world."

"You think too much brother, you'd think that someone as scarred by The Dredh as you would be insane, most never think as clearly as you. Nursed by that vile spawn, and yet..." Len quips back as the talking fades.
-
Beregash gets a nice breeze flowing through the streets as a marching column of what seemed to be some ragtag mercenary band, not a professional one it seems.
Leonardo looked up at the question and offer of help

"Aye sir, I've a bad left upper arm and left thigh. Those thugs got me twice before they ran off. But you must know I am a man of poor means, I cannot repay your healing supplies nor services" explained Leonardo sheepishly
Leonardo wrote:
Leonardo looked up from colouring in the drawing.

"I'm Leo, a lawless tinker... If the vision came to me it was entirely by mistake. I assure you nobody needs a hunted homeless thief to save the world from a crazed sorcerer" assured Leo

"And you are?" Asked Leo curious looking at Marc and the bard whilst bringing the leftover water away from the parchment
Marc tipped his head.
"Redemption could come to anyone," he said quietly, before nodding once, "anyway, I'm Mark Heron, an adventurer," he explains, taking a sip of ale and swishing it about in his mouth for a moment, before swallowing."
Angelo smirked as he saw his haul glad that he was about to rob one of those pigs blind. He would be able to donate some silvers to the orphanage later of course. He went back to the taverna and ordered himself some good ale to drink when he overheard some group talking about his dream. One person having the same dream that could be a coincidence but an entire group like this was something wrong.

He then walked over being silent as ever as he sat next to the self-proclaimed lawless tinker. "Who says the world doesn't need men like us? As long as there is a top there would always be a bottom and after all the world needs people to stir the pot every once in a while" He said with a smirk saying that the world needed rebels after all. He then said "Hope you don't mind me barging in but I believe I had the same dream as well. You said it in exact detail and I rarely ever have dreams about a battle, unless it's with a noble and that was no noble" he said with a laugh as he took a swig of his mead waiting for their reactions.
Marc listened and nodded, the urge to adventure rising in his soul. This was fate, destiny, the will of the gods, what have you.
"I don't think this is a coincidence, this must be a call for adventure, for all of us," he said, downing the rest of his ale in a single go, "we must go off and seek our destinies as given to us by this dream!"
With the arrival of the thief, Leo felt more relaxed and comfortable, turning to shake hands with Angelo and scowling at the agony of shifting.

"Well said my friend" agreed Leo looking at Angelo and praising him, going quiet at Marc's comment so as to give him his full attention
((waiting for DM))
"I do not require payment for healing, it is an act of mercy and charity, not business." With that, Cassius reached out his hand to heal Leo, when his mind was assaulted by the dream once more. He recoiled a bit at the sudden voices in his head, surprised at their sudden resurgence. Once the brief exchange was done, he was able to listen to Angelo and Marc speak. He liked what Marc had to say on redemption, but found Angelo's judgement questionable. His confession of quarrelling with nobles, and apparent comraddery with a confessed thief really didn't do him any favors in the eyes of a Justiciar like Cassius. Cassius held back his judgements for now though, Caerwyn was right, it was in everyone's best interest to work together. He could arrest them later. "Marc speaks true, and I know exactly where to go to investigate. The archive in the Platinum Fortress holds a great wealth of knowledge, we will start there, and then turn to the scholars of the Mage's Guild for any answers we don't find. Does that sound suitable to everyone?"