Kingdom of Bones - IC -

The dawn of a new rose through the horizon, announcing the beginning of a new day. But as typical as it may be for most commoners, this day is far different than any other day before, for the gears of destiny has been set in motion, and the actions taken today and the next days to come will decide the fate of this world. For the commoners, this day will be like any other. Farmers will tend to their fields, merchants will shout in the market streets with hopes of bargaining good deals out of passing adventurers and collectors, workers will yet keep up a fast pace to build new homes and new establishment before the upcoming winter. All these people were living in blissful ignorance, not knowing that the very kingdom they were living in was preyed upon by beings not from this world.

At the eye of the coming storm, only the King, Adrian 1st his name, and a handful of his supporters knew of the upcoming Armageddon. None of them knew exactly when it will happen, but each was counting down the days until the fateful day. King Adrian 1st, albeit having become the new ruler of this world with untold and mysterious power, looked anxious the more years, months and even days passed. His anxiousness was felt throughout the kingdom, as more and more soldiers were hired by the days, but it was brushed off as thirst for more power and to maintain his iron fist ruling, in the minds of the peasants. However, as some of the King’s most trusted men decided to not challenge him for what he had done, they gathered strength for the upcoming apocalypse. Some, however, secretly plotted to find a way to put a stop to the gears of fate. And this is how another set of pieces were added to the game of destiny.

Early in the morning, two robed figures entered the inn, aptly named “The House of the Rising Sun”, for it was located outside the city’s eastern walls, overlooking the area on a hill, where the rising sun could be seen from far away in the horizon. These mysterious cloaked individuals paid no heed to the innkeeper, who had a most strange look on his face at the sight of these strange visitors. But knowing the reputation of his own inn to attract most curious fellows due to its distance from the city of Fria, the innkeeper knew best than to question these people, and soon left them to their business. The cloaked figures took place at a table on the far back, being alone and quiet, away from the ears of the curious and the mumblings of drunkards. Only one took a seat, the other was bringing more chairs to the table, as if they were expecting more people to come to them. When the second had finished placing chairs, it joined the sitting fellow by its side, standing.

“Why don’t you take a seat, dear? It must be tiring to stand up like that for gods know how long.” The sitting cloaked man asked politely to the one standing beside him.

“I prefer it this way. Should anything happens, I am ready.” The standing veiled woman answered, firm and dedicated.

“Very well. Do you think they will come?” The man questioned, with a pondering tone.

“They should be. I have sent a letter to some I believe can be trusted with this mission, some I have met personally. They will come, I am sure, and they will help us.” The lady answered, still speaking with conviction.

“Good, I hope they will. The world hopes as well.”

The sun had set long ago. By her estimate it was half a night until the next dawn. She should have be sleeping, but she couldn't. The sky was awake, so she was awake. She laid with her face to the sky gazing through the branches at the radiant greens and blues of the aurora lingering up above her. The forest was awake as well, the forest never truly slept. All around her she heard the notes of life. Down below there was the pitter patter of a scurrying shrew, the lonely howl of a coyote, and a pack of wolves divvying up their latest kill. The alpha made his claim to the first turn with a snarl and the runts conceded with high-pitched whimpers. Around her in the trees leaves rustled as a opossum and wild cat meandered their ways through, neither taking much interest in the other. She heard it all, on a darker night it would have been her lullaby, even lying awake the noises soothed her until something disturbed the normal rhythms of her home.
 
There was a clumsy but patterned crunching of leaves in the distance. Someone was entering her woods. It was rare for travelers to leave the path that had encroached so deep into her territory, especially this late at the night, no matter how bright the sky above may be. Satchel needed to take a closer look. She could tell herself that it was her duty to check that the person would do no harm, but the truth of the matter was that the traveler's presence had ignited her interest. There was something fascinating about seeing another person, the animals that looked like her.
 
She moved swift and silently through the trees. Putting great care not to be detected, she weaved up and down as necessary to find the nearest branches. Too long of leap would make too much noise. A normal human would over look it, but a startled animal would be enough to betray her position, and she had no intention of being noticed just yet. She flanked around the intruder who was now resting on a large rock. Satchel stopped several meters behind and several dozen above her in an ancient pine where she had a bird eye's view.
 
The woman was dressed in black, making her difficult to see. Even with the full moon and glowing sky little light could reach the ground where the trees were thickest. She slowly turned her head, the woman wasn't looking exactly at Satchel, but was close enough to quicken her  heartbeat at the thought of being detected.


 
"Ah, if it isn't the great forest spirit. Quite the title for such a little elf to bear, but no matter. I have a message for you. If you wish to save your forest, head due south when the day breaks. When you come across the road follow it east to the house of the rising sun. We will be awaiting your arrival." With that the woman stood up and left without another word. At that moment all Satchel could her was the woman's steps, and all she could see was her shadowy figure slowly fading into the distance. When her image was gone the sound of her voice echoed in Satchel's head.
 
Sleep did not come to Satchel that night, even after the lights faded from the night sky. She sat on the same branch frozen in thought until the sun peaked over the horizon. "Who was that woman?" How did  she know me? What's going to happen to these woods, my woods? What is the  House of the Rising Sun?" How can they help"" All these questions and more bounced around her consciousness, haunting her.
 
When the morning finally did come she was more rattled than tired. Her nerves wouldn't let her stay still any longer so she started walking. In time the sounds of the forest came back to her, starting with the birds who were just now stirring from their nests. The longer she walked the more silent the world around her became, until she finally reached the point where the path set reached out beyond the trees. Then the bird songs we drowned out by the pounding of her chest, even if only she could hear it. She wondered if the humans entering her forest felt the same as she did upon leaving it.
 
The road was not well traveled, and she only passed a few others walking the opposite directions, mostly old peddlers and their mules.  None tried to do her any harm. Indeed, most paid little mind to her at all beyond a brief look of curiosity. She knew it was odd for one of her stature to be walking alone. Unaccompanied children rarely came near her home, and the few who did became dinner by nightfall. The sun was high in the sky when she first glimpsed  the man made structure on top of the hill. It was smaller than she had imagined. She approached slowly her footsteps grew so narrow that they were nearly imperceptible. She was not used to travelling this far, nor was she eager to arrive, but something compelled her to move forward.
 
When she reached the hilltop she took a moment to stare at the sign. The strange symbols, words the humans called them, meant little to her, but they were accompanied by a picture. The carved and yellow painted sphere with yellow lines jutting out confirmed that this was her intended destination. She tugged at the door with both hands, opening it only slightly and letting it slam shut behind her as she slipped inside.

They were waiting, just like she said they would. In a room full of people that were moving and making noise the two sitting silently in the corner drew her attention. They knew she was there, they must have, the way the woman had found her in the forest when she thought she was safe. She didn't feel safe now, she was surrounded by strange noises, completely closed off from her world, and the walls around her were so close together. She took a moment to breath, and then scanned the room. No one had seemed to notice. She waited to be called, when a beat had passed she knew the call would not come. It was apparent that the shadowy couple did not wish to attract attention any more than she did. With slow deep breathes, and slow muffled footsteps she approached the table. A old wood beneath her screeched as she slid out a chair. Once more her eyes darted around the room and she pondered how no one else heard it. Having made some room she pulled herself up onto the stool. Her dangling feet reminded her off resting in the trees. She was back home for a brief moment before the sound of clinking glass brought her back to the bar. She found that brushing a hand across the dagger on her hip gave her some comfort, so she did so frequently. She soon found her other hand tapping and dancing idly on the table as her eyes made rounds across the room, a glance at the messengers, then to the door, back and forth desperately waiting for something to happen.

True silence was rare at any hour in the Temple of Arms, really an old barracks long since abandoned by any national military force.  Now it housed the Order of the Sword Knight, small as it was, and there was nearly always a rhythm to the place of someone drilling or training or meditating.  Nonetheless, however, there was a kind of stillness there that most would say did not match with the occupants, for while the Temple had the atmosphere of a weathered old monastery, especially with it's remote and nearly isolated location, the Sword Knights themselves were all warriors trained to the pinnacle of their abilities.  All except one, except for he who had lived as a Sword Knight all his days.  And it was this one who was presently filling the courtyard with the clattering of wood against wood as he dueled against his elder, a wizened old man like strong, old leather, both dressed in the odd, weighted clothes that restricted the wearer's movement and agility, and were considered the norm at the Temple.  The two Knights, old master and young disciple, flowed like rivers in their circle with the grace of the wind and the weight of a mountain, their wooden blades blurs in their hands as they swept, stroked, pivoted and lunged.  A near-cited fool might have mistaken them for dancing but for the incessant *click-click-CLACK* of the weapons.

Auris sparred with his master, Grav, regularly, but this afternoon match was of a different breed entirely.  This, to Auris, was no practice, but rather a test, and he pushed his master as far as he could in it.  An uppercut stroke was met with a crossing left from Grav, which Auris in turn met with a perpendicular guard and then a bash.  Grav twisted out of the way and lunged for the younger man's side, and Auris' weapon spun in his hand to brush the strike aside, flowing into his own counter with a diagonal thrust.  They fought, neither landing the single strike needed to end the bout until Auris made the mistake of lunging just an inch too fat forward, whereupon his master struck him in the back of the head. shouting "Match!" to announce the duel's end.  Auris nodded, mimicing wiping his sword and sheathing it before he sat down, his legs tucked under him and the weapon laid on the ground at his knees.  Grav did similar, sitting across from the boy he had helped raise along with the rest of the masters.

"Very good, lad," the elder said, his voice a low grumble, like a rockslide, "very good indeed.  But you held back too much.  Showing your enemy kindness will spell your end on the battle field."

The disciple only nodded with a terse "Understood, Knight Grav."

The elder nodded in return, "This is good.  I hold no desire to hear of my student dying like a common soldier.  Now, we shall begin the next phase of your tra—"

Grav went silent, watching the entrance to the temple where, to Auris' interest, there stood someone he did not know.  Visitors were rare to the Temple, as the Knights and their families grew their own food, mended their own clothes and forged their own tools.  In Auris' time their had only been four visitors from the outside world, two of whom had been hopefuls seeking admittance to the order and been rejected, and one whom had been a trader.  The other had been whoever had left Auris at the Temple as a babe, perhaps his mother, perhaps his father, perhaps their repentant murderer.  The young man knew not and could not honestly bring himself to care; he was happy here.  Grav stood and walked slowly to the visitor, gesturing to Auris to wait there.  He did, and so Grav eventually strongarmed the visitor into tea and bade Auris to go train.  Hours passed, but as the sun began to set the visitor left and Grav entered Auris' room to find him meditating serenely.  The apprentice opened his eyes on his master's arrival and listened to the sound of his destiny grinding away against his future; he was to leave the Temple and go to the city of Fria, to the House of the Rising Sun where he would be told the rest of what he needed to know.  "And when you return from this endeavor," the old man rumbled, "you will have long since become a true master and Lord Knight worthy of your place in our Order."

Auris bowed his head in acquiescence, "Yes, Knight Grav."

Two days passed, then, during which the Knights taught Auris the basics of society in the outside world and crafted his farewell present.  At the end of those two days, he was clad in armor and sword made by Grav himself, given a supply of gold coin, and the seven Masters thumped fist to heart in salute as he returned the gesture and left.

Two weeks later, he arrived at the House of the Rising Sun at the appointed hour and found the man he had been told to look for, eying the chair dubiously before thumping his chest, fist to heart, towards the man.  "Hail, summoner," he greeted, "scabbard's peace upon our meeting."  His expression was neutral, a stony, watching patience born of a life of routine and peace.

Valestia sat in a secluded section of the inns pub which retained a full view of the room as she sipped a warm beverage of leaves soaked in boiling water. Over the past week or so she had been approached by no less than twelve drunken men all of whom she had refused although sometimes she had to be quite forceful.

“Drunkards are an annoyance.” The wraith muttered to herself “Sober men would usually steer clear of an ash elf, after all we are known for being a treacherous people.” Valestia wore her usual leathery outfit with her high collared jacket and cone holding her hair in a ponytail, Itzli was rested against the table at which she sat with its blade extended to hopefully scare off any would be suitors. What looked like a single wolf rested at the wendigo woman’s right, though despite its appearance the creature was in fact little more than a bone golem.

Outside the inn a huge lizard, emerald green and the size of a mammoth, appeared to sleep with its forelegs crossed below its head like a pillow. This venerable kumi lizard was also undead and had cause quite a stir when it arrived despite being hidden under layers of illusion. Inside the beast was a sort of sack meant to contain her ladies goods during travel. What appeared to be a squirrel also stood watch above the door of the inn and another in a nearby tree. Her room was guarded by a single dead owl also appearing to be more natural than its true nature.

Lady Celsia remained cautious despite her efforts at surveillance, her bonded bird (a gorgeous dark ash colored eagle) Sanguine keeping a watchful gaze where she could not spare it. The daughter of Cindashelle knew virtually nothing about those who sent her the letter that resulted in her ride here from the lush forests on the opposite side of the country. The meeting may even be a trap set up by one of her own so that they may make an attempt for the rumoured powers granted to ash elves who consume their own kin. Valestia arrived as early as possible, well before the day f meeting, to observe and prepare for an ambush.

Valestia took special note of the two figures shrouded in cloaks like midnight as they took a table, one took a seat while the other gathered chairs. “Expecting company are we?”  Lady Celsia thought “More than two chairs for guests huh? Are you the ones who invited me? What are you?  What use would you have unless there are more with you preparing to ambush your guests or have you other plans for us? “

The lady was taken back when she saw the two cloaked ones approached by a child, elven so she was likely older than some of the drunken suitors but still a child in structure and mind. “What? a little girl? a daughter? …no, more likely a guest like me but what use would you have for her. No matter, all will be revealed soon enough. I’ll approach when a stronger guest emerges.”

The phoenix did not have to wait long, for not even an hour later did a young man approach, he was obviously familiar with combat and would be of help to her should this in turn be an ambush. “What is this, a human” she thought “Why would they take such vastly different races to renew themselves. I may as well make my presence known.”

With that thought the necromanctress raised herself from her set and gracefully glided to the table with the already strange assortment of people, her cup left empty on the table where she had sat before.  The young man seemed to be doing some peculiar greeting ritual involving a gesture over his heart, this made the lady faintly smile in amusement.

“I am Valeria Sara Celsia of the Thelsiere forest. I assume on of you two sent me this scroll.” She  said in a somewhat demanding yet beautiful voice like an elvish noble as she produced a piece of parchment which was once likely a scroll, her eyes were fixed on one of the mysterious figures while Sanguine averted his attention to the other..

Xugha, a wandering Half-Orc Cleric of Orcuus, had been on a journey to a town called Larton for around three days. He was on foot, and had been stopped several times. After the end of the third day, he arrived. He immediately headed for a small house on the far end of Larton. He walked without asking for directions, for he needed none. He had been raised in this town from birth until age 16 with his human father, Nathaniel. He was now headed home for the first time in 10 years. When he arrived, his father was waiting on the porch of the home, in an old wooden chair. His father glanced over, noticed him, and quickly became wide eyed with a large smile. Xugha walked up to his father, who gestured for him to step onto the porch. Xugha and his father shared a hug, after which his father asked "How was it? Was it worth 10 years away from me?" Xugha replied with "Yes. I have proven to many humans that not all orcs are villainous, uncivilized barbarians, incapable of culture. I feel proud to have been able to embrace my orcish side." "I'm also proud of you for fulfilling your mother's dying wish. Now, tell me: how i your skill at singing coming along. I would hope that the son of the once-famous Nathaniel, Bard of Larton has been keeping his skills up." "No need to worry, father. I have not allowed my training to go to waste." Nathaniel smiled and gestured for his son to follow him inside. They entered, and Nathaniel turned to his son and said "Now, please, tell me you're not planning on leaving tonight. At least stay for one day." Xugha agreed to stay, and headed for the bedroom that was once his. 

The next day, Xugha awoke to voices in the main room of his father's home. He got out of bed, donned his clothing, and stepped outside. He noted a mysterious cloaked woman talking to his father. His father gestured to him and said "Here's my boy now! I'm sure he'll be interested in what you have to say." The woman approached Xugha, who had a confused look on his face. The woman said "Greetings, Xugha. I have come to tell you something of great importance. There is a high certainty that your mother's home tribe of Orcs, and many others, may become lost. I know a way to prevent this, but only if you follow the instructions on this scroll." When she finished, she handed him a scroll, and left. Xugha looked at the scroll, and saw that he was to meet at an inn called "The House of the Rising Sun". He looked at the date for the meeting, and knew he was going to have to leave immediately. He told this to his father, who replied with "I understand. Promise me, that if all goes well, you will come see again as soon as this is over." "I promise." Xugha gave his father a farewell hug, and left. He then headed out of Larton, towards the Inn. 

After about a week of travel by foot, Xugha arrived at the Inn. He entered, and saw the saem hooded woman he had spoken to, and a small group of others. He approached, allowed another to finish his introduction, then spoke up. "Greetings, I am Xugha Orok, Cleric of Orcuus, god of all Orcs. I believe I was summoned here to speak about something?"

As time passed others came to the table. Satchel dismissed the heavily armored man from her thoughts. He did not seem to mean her any harm, though that did not keep her from brushing the hilt of her dagger ever few moments as if it might leave her.

The one who came next held Satchel's interest a little longer. She had never before seen someone with skin so pale. It gave her a sense of exotic beauty. Maybe she was a princess despite not introducing herself as such. Princesses were always beautiful in the stories she had heard, the fairest of them all.

What truly captured Satchel's attention was the bird she carried. She had come across birds of similar size but this one's plumage and eyes made it stand out. She pulled her legs up onto the stool so she was sitting on her knees. Doing so raised her head to a point where is about even to the adults around her and gave her some added reach and maneuverability from her seat. She moved slowly to avoid startling anyone, and partook in the customs she recalled for dealing with the odd set of animals known as pets. She leaned as close as she could without sacrificing her balance. Her right hand reached out towards the bird, stopping just short of the birds head, waiting for approval to touch it. Her left dug into a pouch at her waist and pulled out a sliver or dried meat to offer.

Sanguine tried hard to keep his gaze on the mysterious fellow but the thought of meat was far too tantalizing for him. “Don’t mind if I do?” He asked the little elven girl offering him the tasty morsel. His beak edged closer to the meat as each second passed and finally snapped it up while the little one petted him. Sanguine relished the petting, after all very few people petted his kind so it was a luxury rarely to be enjoyed.

Valestia on the other hand paid no heed to the birds situation, focusing more on the less than pleasant sight that had just approached their table. He proclaimed himself a cleric of Orcuus and seemed to fit the appearance. “A priest of Orcuus hmm?“ lady Celsia said as more of a statement than a question. She turned back to the cloaks, a stern look carved perfectly into her features “This is quite a strange group you have gathered together. For what purpose are we here?”

Thin steps, an unbidden beat ignored by all save for the one who marched, both purposefully yet casually, along her path. One hand stood stock still on the pommel of the unique blade the thin elven woman carried, her purple eyes, that avoided other's gaze due to her garb, seeming dark in the shade of her exquisite headwear. The emotionless gaze that the amythyst organs possessed was yet to be seen by their very owner, and yet the woman who's look would spell out "nobleman" to one who does not hear her voice she continued out of the city proper, still in motion to the same regular beat of the land beneath her feet.

The House of the Rising Sun... How fitting for such a task to have it's prelude here. The words on the scroll could have been scribed to a much more sesquipedellian degree of loquaciousness to describe it in full detail though. the woman thought as she opened the door to the inn.

She took one simple look at the contents and sighed. Not a single one who carried themselves with a regular beat. She did, however, step to the one table that seemed interested. Two black-robed figures, one standing, once seated. A young elf who's demeanour sang of nature, an orc-kin who who seemed to have an air of calm she deemed unusual and a man who's look sang of knightly valor. Yet they paled in their ability to grab Tsera'Shul's attention compared to the last one, who's demeanour seemed to have the beat of the dead within.

Having arrived in time to hear the pale elf speak, Tsera smled. Quite the cacopheny gathered... And I feel I only add to the noise of dissimilarity. But even the most cacophenous voices can learn to sing n harmony. I can only hope the beat just continues to march on... she thought as she stepped to a point near the nable, in full view of each, and gave a bow, "My name is Tsera'shul Moza'tarral. I march to the song and beat of the world beneath our feet as a Maestro of War," She declared, her voice slightly weak in volume, but the mid-high pitch seemed just so, to reach all the ears in needed to reach clearly. Granted she knew her voice carried more than it should but she had no problems with that.

Raising the scroll she carried a short way, she simply added, "And I am led to assume the composers of the little ditty scribed upon this parchment are you, robed ones. Mayhap this be concerning the recent events and an attempt to preserve the song of fate? Or would you be composing the a new Finale for the world?" her eyebrows raised breifly, hidden by her hat as she spoke the question. She smiled softly, her Raven-black hair framing her face in the shadow of her hat without even moving, "Either way... I'll at least hear this sonata out."

Aaron found himself standing infront of inn known as "The house of the rising sun". He looks down at the note he found when he awoke earlier in the day, "Looks like this is the place, but why here of all places" he wondered as he opened the door. Upon entering he takes a quick look around to see if the people who left the note were around, at the back of the inn he notices a pair of people in black robes, but they appeared to have extra company with them. From the looks of it there was a young elf, someone who was at least part orc, a guy in a fair amount of armor carrying a large sword, and another elf who had a way with words.

Once the elf has finished with her short speech, Aaron walked past her and acknowledged the two hooded figures. "I guess you are the ones behind this note i got, and by the looks of it, I ain't the only one you decided to try dragging into this. I just want to know three things. What do you want of us, will we get to kill things, and what do i get out of this." He didn't care if he was blunt or straight to the point, he just wanted to know what was going on, and more importantly, he wanted to know if he's gonna get payed for it or not.

One after the other, the adventurers that were called upon by the two mysterious cloaked figures arrived at the inn. While some looked hesitant to meet with the veiled duo, some were straight forward, showing their interest in the mission they have been selected to accomplish. Most were drawn in this very inn with the sole mention of their own prowess needed to accomplish an important task, as but a few actually knew that their world was in danger. But as more of the would-be heroes questioned the cloaked folk’s motives and the diversity of the group, a very sharp toothed grin was drawn on the lips of the tall female standing. The man sitting, however, did not show any emotions under his hood. He remained serious throughout the greeting, patiently waiting until all of the adventurers were present.

After the last of the remaining wanderer arrived and bluntly asked what reward would be promised for the quest, the woman stopped smiling and turned her head to her male companion, nodding silently her head in approval to the man sitting. Nodding at his turn, the man looked back at the adventuring group that had gathered around the table, acknowledging each of these outstanding individuals standing in front of him. Clearing his throat with a few coughs, the man set his pale hands on the table, revealing several pouches of gold that were hidden under his large sleeves.

“First, let me thank you all for coming here. I know some of you live quite far away or are constantly on the moving, and I praise you for meeting us here despite the obscure instructions you have all been given. Please, take a seat, and tell me what you would like to drink, my comrade will bring whatever you might fancy, as token of our gratitude.” The cloaked man welcomed the group, his voice calm and honest.

“To first answer you sir’s question about monetary compensation for your work, I can assure you that this meager amount of gold on this table in not your only reward. My lord will make sure, if you help him, that your desires will be fulfilled. There is almost no limit to the generosity of my lord should you succeed in your mission.” The man explained with confidence as his associate walked towards the bar after taking the orders from the guests.

“If this is sufficient of an answer to you, then let me allow you to explain the reason that has brought such an odd group of individuals like yourselves here, at the inn of the new day. Some of you may have noticed, from your travels or your adventures throughout the land, that our current king, Lord Adrian, is rapidly increasing the strength of his army by the day. There is a reason for such, something that is unfathomable by most, yet very much real. Because of the circumstances, I am not allowed to reveal you the exact nature of this mission, but know that this world is in danger of being exterminated, and only individuals of your talent can help prevent that.” The mysterious man told with a foreboding tone, his half-concealed face growing grimmer by the minute.

“This will be a dangerous mission, and I can understand if you do not feel compelled to carry on. However, I promise that whatever rewards you are wishing for, be it fame, riches, satisfaction of saving the world or even something beyond such simple gain, you will obtain it. For those who decline, then please feel free to take one of these pouches as compensation for bothering you and leave this place in ignorance, shackle to live your life in vain as the fateful day strikes us. If, on the contrary, you are interested in undertaking the quest, then please stay a while, for I will tell you of your first objectives.” The man said, clearly pointing out that he had no time with those who are not interested to stay.

“So, what say you? I understand if you require some time to think, but please make it fast, as my presence is required somewhere else.” The cloaked man said with eagerness, hoping that, despite his cryptic and rather unclear explanations, these adventurers would accept his request.

Satchel paid no more attention to the other travelers than they did to her, not bothering to part ways with the bird or turn back towards the table until the old man began to speak. She kept her legs tucked under her instead of sitting flat on the stool. She appreciated the extra height doing so granted her.

When the old man presented a bag to her she was quick to dig through it, finding nothing but disappointment and a bundle of coins inside. She knew they held great worth to most people. She had witnessed men fight over them, even kill over them in the woods without understanding why. They weren't particularly shiny, and she knew through experience that they were completely inedible.

The protection of her lands was enough of a cause to draw Satchel to this meeting, but the mention of generous rewards made her start to think bigger. There was little point in trying to save the meager remains of her forest dwelling, but if the man claimed to have power to change things on her behalf. Her wish was grandiose, but the man seemed desperate and she noticed that she was the only child and the implications that came with that. The world always preferred adults to children. Adults had been deemed to be both stronger, wiser, and all around more dependable. Them calling on her meant that she brought something to the table that no one else did. She did not know herself what it was, but it gave her leverage and her newfound twisted smile advertised that she was keen to that fact.

"I want you to give the forest back. The king must order everyone to leave any place that was covered in trees in my lifetime." She did not know exactly how much property that would entail. Perhaps even this inn would disappear as a result. All she was certain of that as she grew the forest had shrunk and that she would be the one to end it. She paused briefly as she reflected back on the talks that she had overheard and thinking of what the men of the world valued. "and a lordship with the privilege and power to protect my lands. Those are my demands." Having overcome her apprehensions of being indoors she stared at the man, tapping the table as she waited for his response and the ale she had ordered to fit in.

Auris was the next to take a pouch, the weight of the coins within significantly less than the one he'd been given before departing, which still held a majority of it's original contents courtesy of the Sword Knight's minimalistic lifestyle. The promise of a great reward at the end of their quest made him curious as to what the others would demand; the little one had already shown her desire. Auris might have called it greed, but from what little he knew of the girl he instead chose to call it a want to protect the forests she loved, which to him was acceptable if grandiose and, perhaps, pretentious. The warrior's heart held no such wants, however. He could, perhaps, have asked for his parentage, but to him that did not truly matter; if he were a lost heir to a noble dynasty or the bastard child of a slave, it would not, he felt, change that he was Auris, adopted son of the Lord Knights of the Temple.

His contemplation ended then, and he simply nodded. "Whatever the task may be," he said, "if it shall bring peace, then you have my sword, summoner. I shall show our enemy what it is like to die. However, I have but one question." He looked around at those assembled, a motley crew that seemed more a ragtag bunch of outcasts scraped from the bottoms of many different barrels. They must either be desperate or delusional to see such as world saviours, and to negotiate with the Knights to convince them to send him out on this quest. "Each of us brings to bear our own abilities, but why do you believe us to be the ones meant for this undertaking? Surely there are others already legends in their own right who would help in this."

The Maestro of war contemplated the words of those who spoke before her, and had found herself wondering what she wanted, other than for the world to continue. The child spoke her desire and she smiled. The Warrior made his vow and she continued to smile, although his question had piqued her curiosity. "The marching beat of fate sings it's melancholy song with absolute sureity, warrior," Tsera'Shul told the knight offhandedly.

Her gazed turned to the robed male and she simply stated, "All I need... All I want is for the beat of the world to never see it's finale. If I must compose a requiem by rapier and magic to ensure that I will." Tsera laid a hand on the pommel of Francois and closed her eyes, "My only... request is that should the last act of my life have it's curtain call, that only my fellows, the Maestros of War are to be told. If that is to be granted, then my beat shall march in harmony with that of the quest."

Valestia listened carefully to the words of the seated shadow, noting his inability to fully answer her question yet at the same time he gave her two things she could not refuse. If she took the task she could gain a foot hold in paying the gods a tribute of goodwill for her parents crimes and the crimes of her kind and yet at the same time she could give ash elves a useful purpose in society and a place to call home.

"I accept." she heard herself saying, barely able to contain her excitement. "But even the little elven girl's request may pale in comparison to what I ask."

"I will obviously join my mistress."  Sanguine said almost purring.

"You would need to be there should anything happen to me besides I highly doubt the youngling would appreciate being separated from you Sanguine." Valestia responded somewhat playfully.

Aaron stood in thought over the words of the hooded man while casually tossing the pouch, he was slightly annoyed over the lack of answers to two of his question, but he understood why they didn't tell them much at this point. After a few more minutes of thinking, he decides against his better nature that he shouldn't accept this due to a lack of information, but he was highly intrigued in what could possibly be going on in the shadows, but more importantly if the world ends how would he be able to make a living.

"Well then, I can't say no to you two now, not after what you've hinted at. You have a deal, but what i want as reward isn't important right now, that can wait until we're done." He says with a slight smirk as he goes to grab a seat.

"If you would have another warrior as part of this quest, count me among your number." Said another voice. The group looked up from what they were doing and noticed as the last of the summoned finally arrived.

Slightly shorter than the Sword Knight, Balthasar was nevertheless the most muscled and heavily built of the would-be companions. As well, he was by far the most unusually dressed. He wore a dark blue coat, black tunic and pants and instead of footwear he had on foot-wraps that barely concealed his calluses. Around his neck was a long collar and a chain necklace depicting the imagery of a giant octopus.

"I am Balthasar, Lord of the Western Lands, but you may call me Bal." He said at last, taking a seat at the far end of the table. "I apologize for my late interjection. I had to be sure your intentions were honorable. And I could not help but overhear the promise of reward upon our success."

He gestured to the others. "I am sure that none of you are aware of this, but my country is in desperate need of revitalization. We are a land that is consumed by war. What I desire for my participation in this quest is twofold: Assistance in rebuilding my land, and the recognition of our sovereignty upon its completion. That is all."

Briefly, he looked around - and he could tell the others would likely think him rude for his late arrival, even moreso for his behavior at having made his demands so quickly after his introduction. Truthfully though, that bothered him very little.

His gaze settled on Satchel - the tiny one. She would likely be the one among them he had the most trouble with. Her desires were of a natural viewpoint. She cared not for men, but for animals. That much he could tell.

The others too, he noticed were all quick to point out their desires. The Knight of the Sword, he admired for his desire for peace. The Maestro, he respected even more for her obvious prowess and for her desire to protect the world. Both were goals he could see well within his own. And he turned to the other members of the group, eager to see what they also desired.

"I too, have a request of sovereignty, but one of a different nature. My request is that the various Orc tribes be granted a kingdom of their own, one where they will be able to live without being pestered by the more "Racially Vocal" people. I do not, however wish to be immediately recognized as a Lord, as I want to leave that decision up to my half-kin." Xugha finished, and immediately began to think about how glad the tribes would be to hear that they will be granted a full-fledged kingdom of their own.

"Then you are fortunate friend." Said Bal, looking up at Xugha. "I have great respect for the Orc people. There have been many gladiators that fought in the arenas of my homelands, and one such fighter and I became dear friends shortly before the last war. Before his end, he and I became blood-brothers. When he met his end, surrounded by the slain foes, his final request be that I take up his axe."

And with that, Bal reached behind his back and he pulled out a masterfully crafted battle-axe, the head of which was notched, and three jagged edges formed along its blade. "This my friends," he said as he lifted it up for all to see. "- is the axe of the late Thag Ironbender, whose name is 'Unbound'."

The Gladiator looked over his comrades, now wondering what they would each think of his weapon. His glance passed over them, and he in turn was curious to what weapons they used, and to how proficient they might be. No doubt since they were a small but elite group of distinguished fighters, they were all mighty indeed. Inside though, a part of him desired to test their mettle and to see just who among them might prove to be a worthy opponent.

"Before we go on that subject any further, though, the question remains: Who are you?" He gestured to their host. "And what purpose did you call us here for?"

That got everyone's attention.

Hearing out what the future would-be saviors of this world wanted by the end of their quest, the old cloaked man sitting in front of him could not help but smile, amused by some and their grand plans for the future that might be waiting them after being done, while he also smiled for the pure-hearted ones who sought out nothing more than saving the world, be it out of concern for the people or for their own survival. His smile faded slowly as his accomplice returned with the ordered drinks, serving to each what they had asked to the robed woman. Afterwards, she set the tray on a nearby table and went back at the man’s side, standing once more like a statue overlooking the meeting.

“My master’s powers and influence can extend to reaches you wouldn’t even fathom in your wildest dreams. While some of your requests might sound far-fetched, I can assure you all that your wishes are likely to become reality. Of course, I am just an envoy of my master, so it is not up to me to confirm whether your wishes will come true or not. That is a matter that will have to personally confirm when the day my master shall reward you for your good deeds.” The mysterious man answered to everyone’s spoken desires, slowly gazing upon each and every adventurer as he spoke.

“That is an excellent question to be asked, Sir Apprentice of the Sword. However, the very answer lies within your own question. For you see, as you have noticed, we have a desire to remain anonymous, trying to hide our presence from the eyes of He Who Watches All. This mission, this much I can tell you right now, has to remain confidential to only your group. No one must know of what you are trying to accomplish, lest you will be facing more difficulties in the journey that lies ahead. Legends, as you would call those who have accomplished amazing prowess to the public eye, are already under the gaze of the Overseer. Assembling an odd group like you, who most haven’t made a reputation among the common people, is harder for the Seer’s eyes to detect than an assembly of renowned individuals.” The old man spoke with cryptic words, turning his attention to the would-be apprentice Sword Knight.

“As for who we are, Sir Balthasar, it is just as I said. I cannot reveal my identity right now, as it is not yet my time. If some were to know who I am, it might be reported to the higher authority, will compromise my cover and put you all in danger if they come to know of what our plans are. This much I can assure you, something will happen, and it was brought to this world by the supreme authority of this disastrous kingdom we now live in. As such, it is imperative that you do not relate anything that I have divulged here to any member that represents this authority, for you will make your mission only most perilous.” The man answered to Balthasar, his voice sounding more as if he was voicing warning than an answer.

Looking once more at each individual, the old man then took the cup of tea his partner brought him, revealing to all the wrinkly and frail hands that constantly shook as he took hold of the cup. After slowly sipping down a few mouthful of his delicate yet sweet drink, the man set the shaking cup on the table. Raising his head, some could notice a determined eye peering out from his hood towards the group, a smile drawn on his face before he slowly lowered his head.

“I am quite glad you have all accepted this request of mine. You are indeed a very promising group, as my colleague foresaw. Since you seem all willing to undertake this mission, please allow me to give you your first objective.” The old man said as he turned towards his associate.

The cloaked woman reached inside her cloak with a gloved hand and produced a scroll from it, which she handed out to the old man. It was hard to determine what kind of person this one was so far, for nothing but her voice and silhouette gave away what she was. Even the inside of her hood was black as night, revealing nothing but darkness. But from her physical built, it was suggested she was not of the heaviest race, such as an Orc or a Dwarf. Her silhouette rather suggested she might be human, elven or even a half-blood.

From the scroll his associate gave to him, the old one opened it and placed it on the table. The map was a detailed overview of the king of Gliese, extending itself to the far reach of the Northern Mountains, all the way down to the Southern Forest, its borders stopping at the entry of the far Western Desert. Cities and important areas were noted throughout the map, roads were drawn from one place to another. From common knowledge, few had these kinds of maps, not even merchants and the typical adventurers or mercenaries.

“Your first objective will be to meet with a faraway Lord that resides beyond the southern forest of Shadow Vale. This person is perhaps the most trusted member of my master’s followers, and is a very resourceful man. He will give you your second objective, and will provide you with helpful information concerning your mission. His domain is far and secluded from the rest of the world, but fortunately for you, this is where my associate will be of help to your group. She is a member of this secretive household, and knows the way to reach this place without getting lost in the dense Shadow Vale.” The old man said as he pointed the location on the map where they were currently meeting, at the center of the map where the capital of Fria was standing tall. He then pointed to the southernmost forest on the map as he explained about the local lord residing in Shadow Dale.

Satisfied with the information he had just given to the group, the elder took another sip of his tea, while the woman beside him stood silent despite having been partly introduced to the party as their guide.

“Do you require additional information on your current objective? I shall try to answer these to the best of my abilities, but you must make it quick. My presence is required somewhere else, and the earliest I can return to my duties, the less chances I have to blow my cover. If you have any questions regarding your itinerary, please ask them to my associate while you are on the road. She is most knowledgeable about the terrain and the areas you will have to cross.” The man stated.

Xugha was handed a large iron mug, filled with a dark and thick, almost soupy, Orcish Brew called "Arken". He then pointed to the mug and said "Arken is well known as being the strongest of brews, with only those of Orcish blood, or a lucky Dwarf, being able to stand the strength." He then downed the mug in about 3 seconds, flipped the mug, and slammed it on the table. He then looked over at a nearby barmaid and said "Barmaid, another mug of Arken, please!" She quickly scurried over to the counter, filled a mug, brought it back, and immediately turned in her two week's notice. Xugha looked back at the Cloaked figures and said "I'm ready to leave as soon as I finish this mug." He then started to bring the mug up to his lips. Right before he took the drink, however, a Human with a considerable waistline came over and said "Hey, Greenskin! That's right, I'm talking to you, Orc! How dare you show your pigface around here? Don't you know this is the capital of a HUMAN king's lands?! Now, get outta here before I have to kick ya out on your arse!" Xugha set down his mug, stood from his seat, and stared down at the human, who was a full foot shorter. He snarled and said "You're going to regret those words, you piece of human trash!" Xugha then delivered a right hook to the man's face, then a swing from the left. Xugha then grabbed the man's head, pushed it downward, and brought his knee up to meet the man's face, knocking the man unconscious. Xugha let go of him, and as he crumpled to the floor, at down back in his seat. Xugha then downed the 2nd mug of Arken and said "I sincerely apologize for the interruption. I would also like to recommend that we leave as soon as possible."

Not much longer after the cloaked man finished talking, Aaron was treated to the scene of the Orc-kin knocking some guy unconscious. As much as the guy deserved it, this was neither the time nor the place to throw punches. With a sigh he gets up and walks towards the exit, but not before picking up his bag of money and looking to the Orc-kin.

"You're glad I don't feel like getting involved with a bar fight, otherwise you'd be in a similar condition to that human right now." He says while adjusting his rings just in case things got ugly too quickly. With that he cracks his neck and continues walking. "Man...I haven't been with these fools for 5 minutes yet and there's already a potential brawl happening. They better shape up if they expect me to work with them. These were his thoughts as he was walking.

Tsera'shul listened with a soft smile, suppressing her laughter at the pudgy human's attempt to kick her fellow adventurer out. Then she finally spoke once more, "Thus does the march begin." She watched the mercenary walk out before adjusting her hat and taking her leave as well. Upon stepping outside sigh sighed darkly as she reached into a pocket and produced a small blank scroll, roughly half the size of a typical one.

Stepping out of the way of the doorway she drew her rapier and murmured out a chant, racing a sigil in the air with her rapier before touching the pommel of it to the scroll, which glowed breifly before the sigil appered upon the sheet. Returning the stored spell to her pocket and Francois to it's sheath, she let herself lean again the wall of the tavern, her head tilted so that her hat shielded most of her face from the light.

"The world's beat will wane if the march is too slow, but the requiem will be speedy if the tempo is too high. Heh... I guess we'll just have to see how resonant the group is as a whole," She said to herself, uncaring if others heard her at this time, "Otherwise there'll be many who must listen to dirges aplenty, their own and that of the world." She closed her eyes and sighed once more, "Time... as always, is against us all."

After Tsera left, it was Balthasar that rose to his feet next, following her out. For a brief moment he stopped and looked down at the crumpled human that had made the racist remark at the half-orc.

"Let that be a lesson to you. Meddle not in affairs that don't concern you." He said with a scoff. And with that, he left without a second glance.

He rejoined the group as they slowly assembled outside. Bal put two fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply. Minutes later, a brown-golden mare appeared from behind a building and trotted next to him. After he gently patted the horse's white mane, he mounted with a single leap. To those that watched, they would notice he was riding without a saddle, or reins, and yet the horse had no trouble at all with carrying him where he directed.

"Let's get on with it then. Does anyone else have need of a horse?" He gestured to his mount. "This great creature is named Emel. She is my most loyal friend - and she is as sweet and gentle as can be."

Valestia glared at the crumpled sack of flesh and blood in disgust, surprised that only the orc was attacked and infuriated by the blatant show of racism. "You will not live to learn from your mistake." she whispered into the unlucky mans ear in reference to her companions advice. The man whimpered as he noticed her white skin.

The ash elf silently ordered a sparrow to keep watch over the man while a pack of three wolves was set outside the inn to deal with the filth at a later stage. The lady Celsia then left the House of the Rising Sun calling Lorna to her as she did so. The squirrels and other animals, save for the wolf, had already gathered in the sack tied between Lorna's ribs after she was reasonably certain of her safety.

Within a minute of stepping outside, Lorna had arrived to take her mistress who climbed up her tail to the small 'tent' on her back. "You could ride with me if you are to be part of the quest, little one." Valestia called to Satchel with a thin but kind smile. "I have plenty of space and the journey will not be short."
______________
Unknown to the rest of the group, that night when the man left the inn or even if he just went to bed or any place where he was alone, the wolves would come to rip him apart while the quick sparrow pestered him to hopefully prevent him from harming any of the bone creatures. He would scream in the night when his hour had come as punishment for his act of racism. Valestia after all could not expect her request for racism to become punishable by death or heavy fines by law when she did nothing to cull the racists herself.

Xugha noticed that many of the party had already stood up and left. Not wanting to fall behind, Xugha quickly followed them as well.

Noticing the others call upon mounts, and Bal offering, Xugha shook his head and said "I have no need for horses or other mounts. I will walk." Xugha walked over to Bal and said "I would like to thank you, both for being a friend to Orc-kind, and for keeping that axe from becoming some coward's war trophy. I have known of Thag for many years, but never had the pleasure of meeting him. He was once a member of the same tribe my mother had been from, and the same tribe that had taught me in the ways of Orcuus' Clerics. I am pleased to see his death was not in vain. Again, Thank you."