Illara was a world filled top to bottom with shocking tales, nefarious foes, brave characters and their heroic deeds. On the continent of Taldrin, golden rays of sun lay across the rooftops and cobbled roads of Orlin, the capitol city, where a new adventure was about to begin. It was late in the first day of a new year, and the town was celebrating.
A tallish half elf man makes his way towards a tavern, where he was supposed to meet a man about a job. His skin had seen much sun but no sunscreen or shielding ointments. He has piercing blue eyes and was built of lean muscle. He wore a blue and black ring on his lift forefinger, and was dressed in a well oiled leather tunic. His face was grim, but there was an eagerness to his eyes. He was Vanyx Reslin, and he opened both double doors into The Left Handed Lady Tavern and Inn as he entered. The atmosphere was lively, but still calm. Staircases on both his left and right lead up to a wrap around second story balcony. People leaned over the railing there, and focused on the center of the room where a man and a woman were locked in an arm wrestling match. They sat on barstools, upon a slightly raised stage, at a thin table as they struggled against eachother. What of the womans hair that was not secured into pigtails fell into her face, as she strained against the rippling bicep of a dwarvish man, whos face breaks into a knowing grin, before he pressed the back of her hand down to the table.
They wrestled with their left hands. There was a dissatisfied roar that went up in the wake following her defeat.
Vanyx scanned the tables of feasting farmers and mingling merchants until his eyes settled on a particularly odd looking collection of people in a corner booth. Standing at the front of the strange congregation was a man with a long robe on, and his hood up with a grave beared. This must be Vanyxs' new employer. The older man carries a blackened stone staff that is gnarled like the branch of a tree, and gestures with a sweeping hand as he welcomes Vanyx. "The last of our adventuring party! We've been waiting for you."
"Last but surely not the least, my friend!" Vanyx found his place at the end of the booth.
"No, not the least by any means." The mans voice was low, and worn. "Welcome. Please, take a moment to become acquainted with your colleagues." The cloaked man swept a hand in gesture towards the table.
"This ragtag group?" Vanyx cocked an eyebrow as he took them in.
"You took your time Half-elf." The thick accent came from the groups largest member. He was a weathered looking dragon borne, with silky black scales contrasted with intermittent scar tissue. His ragged cream tunic and breeches didn't fit. A jeweled ring hung from a string around his neck.
"It's an important evening! I wanted to look nice." Vanyx retorted sarcastically as he swept fingers through his hair.
"I am Boone." The daunting creatures sharp teeth flashed as spoke his name.
"Whats the rush mate? We're all here. We can finally begin." A typical looking man spoke up at Boone. His skin was young and fair. He wore his light brown hair up in a long bun. Long stubble dressed his unshaven face. A longbow peeked up over his shoulder.
"Now this seems like an agreeable fellow!" Vanyx grinned.
"My name is Roran, and I say we are raggedy, and there is a bunch of us. Lets get this done."
Stuffed between the others, low in the booth was an odd looking dwarf, with grey skin and purple eyes. His hair was long, braided and bound with metal clasps. He was badly scarred, missing an ear and two fingers on his left hand.
Roran held out an upturned palm towards the dwarf. "This is Toramir. I did find him in rough shape on the road but we made it here well enough." His voice was bright as his eyes.
"Slowly." Toramir grumbled.
"Well I am grateful that you did!" Their host knocked on the table. "There are more yet to be introduced, perhaps, the littlest of us?" He gestured with a smile across the group.
A small giggle, quieted the group, as a response came from the fairy that sat on the shoulder of her friend, no longer than a mans hand. The muted palate of her attire was complimented by soft grey eyes, and a mess of tangled sandy brown hair, and contrasted by a set of shimmering iridescent wings. "I am Fernray Littlelint." She closed her eyes and pressed her cheeks into a smile. "You're next." She tapped onto the shoulder where she sat.
"My name is Ishara Taez." The voice was soft, but strong. Everything looked large next to Fern, but in truth Ishara was short and petite herself. She had a head of unruly pixie cut silver hair, that caught the light. It fell around a pointed ear on her left side, and was grown longer on the right, where no ear presented itself. She had slight features and was draped in a spotless and well-tended leather jacket several sizes too big, but she moved easily in it. She dug her honeyed eyes into her new employer, and he picked up on the signal to move on.
"Yes of course." He said to her stare, and held out both hands to a teenaged half elf across the table, oblivious to the conversation in favor of the book where he'd buried his nose. A pair of goggles were strapped to his head and pushed up into his unkempt brown hair. A bag of books and odd trinkets was slung onto his shoulder. "Fernan, was it?" Their host spoke up to buy the young mans attention.
"Oh, my apologies." His head shot up from the pages. "I've just...well I've reached a particularly fascinating portion of this..." His began falling back to his reading material, but on their way they scanned the group. "It's very nice to meet you all." He mumbled. "Go on, I'm listening."
"Well I thank you, for prying yourself from that tome long enough to explain." The hooded man shook his head.
"Was never quite one for books myself." Roran shrugged with his eyes.
"This mate can't get enough." Vanyx knuckled his chin, and looked at Fernan.
"And you?" The hooded host leaned heavily onto his staff.
"My name is Magralay!" Her long blonde hair fell past her shoulders, to layers of furs that wrapped her. She wore a necklace, that bore a bears tooth in a bottle, and hugged a wooden staff at her side. She offered a bright smile. "It is nice to be here with you all!" She rubbed the only remaining unnamed adventurer on the shoulder.
"You've waited to the last, but still your moment has come. Please." The man who'd gathered them instructed.
"I'm Nyx. No family name." She broke into a wide grin. There was a finely crafted lyre strapped to the back of this freckled red head. Her golden eyes lit the room, despite the sadness that lurked behind them. She looked over her unassuming and dingy clothes, "Sorry I didn't have time to clean up and, uuh, it was a long walk." Her sarcasm wasn't sharp. Her smile spread to many of the others.
"We've all traveled far and long." Roran shut his eyes wearily.
"Not all!" Their host corrected, looking across Ishara and Fern. "...and steel yourselves for there is much traveling yet to be done."
"Nyx, how do you spell that name?" Fernan raised his eyebrows at her with a feathered quill in hand. He'd traded his textbook for a journal, and tapped it in anticipation.
"Uuh Nyx? 'N-Y-X.' Three letters, easy." She called back.
"Is there any other way to spell Nyx?" Roran wrinkled his brow.
The group began speaking over themselves as the offered up alternatives. Nix, Nicks Niks...
"Like I said I was never quite one for books. Books and words." Roran concluded through the loud conversation.
"You can spell things however you want!" Boone frowned at his claws.
"I didn't set out to find a group of scholars, though if there are any among us still you are welcomed. I appreciate you all making your way. Some of you traveled quite far and others were local to Orlin...and as you have seen you are no ordinary group of mercenaries nor a band of common soldiers. Each of you possess a unique talent, and as a group you'll find your skillset to be quite diverse. My quest pays well, and because of this I expected to attract more interesting ramble and I see that I was right to think so."
"What was your name, again, friend?" Vanyx cut in. "I didn't see the flyer, my buddy just told me." He needed his head at Fernan.
"The name on the flyer is false. I am Kylen Ottler. I hail from the far north but, have been staying in the city for some times. I have secured each of you a room here for the evening. If it is agreeable I'd like to see you set out with the sun in the morning."
"Set out where?" Roran scratched his stubble.
"The Ozmicron Gorge." Kylen held out both arms as he announced it to the table.
"A ways east from here..." Vanyx muttered under his breath.
"There is something precious to me there...that..." Kylen let his sentence fall away.
"You keep mentioning that you attracted this group o' rabble. Why did you not seek the aid of a more conventional troupe?" Roran puzzled.
"Like a band of mercenaries or the queens guard?" Kylen mused. "This particular quest is going to require a more delicate touch."
"Best not to question where your money is coming from, friend." Boone placed a heavy hand onto Rorans shoulder, who held the weight well. "Just keep your head down and accept paycheck."
"Spoken like one who has dealt in delicate business before!" Kylen looked pleased.
"The money is secondary, I'm just trying to get my travels." Roran removed Boones wrapped scaley hand, and patted him on the wrist.
"What is the paycheck? The money is not secondary for me." Nyx raised her eyebrows, and placed the fingers of her right hand down onto the table.
"I'll be able to pay you fifty platinum pieces as you set out onto your journey, and fifty when you return to me what I seek." Kylens tone exposed his pride.
"Yeeeesh." Vanyxs eyes widened.
"Fifty platinum a piece?!" Rorans jaw fell, and he shared a pleased glance with Toramir, who just shut his eyes and nodded his approval.
"Let's say...some of our company...'doesn't make it'...will that roll over onto those who do?" She pursed her lips and tapped her forefingers together.
"The fifty platinum that they set from this establishment will be yours to do with what you will, along with any of your less fortunate companions' possessions."
"So we get fifty platinum later as well?" Vanyx continued
"Paid up front!? Roran touched a hand to his forehead. Vanyx and Roran touched knuckles.
"What about like, later? 'Cuz you already like set aside for all of us so like might as well let us get that too!" She persuaded
"It was not my plan, but I suppose that to compensate for the emotional toll of losing some of your traveling group, I could ensure that the compensation that had been intended for them is given to perhaps Nyx, to distribute to the others as she sees fit." Kylen grinned
"How would you want to distribute that?" Vanyx frowned
"How do we know you won't just run away?" Roran followed up
"It depends on who did what! We'll just have to see at the end..." Nyx laughed and rubbed her hands together. "...and who gave the most effort, alright?"
"What are you gonna do with an instrument? I don't see no weapon upon your back!" Roran narrowed his eyes at her.
"Ha! This is clearly the first time you've met a bard!" Nyx turned her nose up confidently.
"A 'bard?' I see one in every tavern!" Roran crossed his arms.
"Aye, come! Sing me a song." Vanyx beckoned with a hand.
"You think I play for free?!" Nyx laughed.
"One platinum!" Vanyx placed a coin onto the table cheekily.
Nyx slid the coin over to herself and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "What kind of music do you like?" Fern covered a giggle with her hand and, and Ishara laughed with her eyes.
"He's paying you a platinum and you still want him to choose the music!?" Roran scoffed
"He's only paying me a platinum!" Nyx countered as she pocketed the money.
"Sing him a sooong!" Fern squeezed Isharas shoulder as she egged Nyx on, and the musician unclasped her instrument.
"What is it you hope to find in the ozmicron gorge?" Roran moved on.
"There is a necklace." Kylen looked tired. "A ruby necklace that is very very dear to me...and..."
"If it's just that, and you're paying us a hundred platinum a piece you can't just buy another ruby necklace?" Roran turned up his lip.
"It is irreplaceable." Kylens words were a low whisper. "You'll find me here. I'll be staying here for ten days."
"You won't be going with us?" Ishara ran a finger across her lower lip.
"No no, the Ozmicron gorge is no a place for a...an old man."
"Who took it from you?" Roran pressed.
"I lost it."
"You lost it but you know it's in the gorge? It doesn't sound very lost to me." Roran wrinkled his nose.
"How lost it sounds to you is of little consequence. The necklace is gone and I'd like to have it back. I suppose uncovering the full truth of what happened to it is a part of what I am paying for."
"What sort of foes, could be guarding such a necklace?" Boone leaned onto the table and it groaned.
"Hopefully no more than some few goblins, and a fool apprentice caster." Kylen revealed.
"We're going to be doing fighting?" Vanyx feigned surprise. "I just bought these new leathers with the last of my coin!" He turned to show off the attire.
"It's not the last of your coin anymore." Kylen began handing bags of money to the party.
"While I have you here, if I might inquire one last question...you seem well traveled...have you heard the name Wyrmaron?"
"Wyrmaron..." He repeated, rolling one hand through his beard. "Wyrmaron. I have heard the name, a long time ago. The man that carried it was not very kind, and I have no knowledge of where he could be now."
"Well where did you hear it?"
"I was in and around the region of North Umberland, dragon folk there...I've always hated the beasts but..."
"What do you have against dragons?" Boone muttered, but there cam no response.
"...this man was quite fond of the monsters." Kylen continued
"Monsters seems like quite a strong word to use on such fair creatures!" Roran stood and stretched out his back.
"I would get comfortable with it." Kylen had a stern look in his eyes.
"Monsters...monsters...monsters." Vanyx repeated to himself.
A chorus of feminine cheering drowned out the conversation, as a woman seated at the table on the low stage, pressed her arm down hard on top of the hand of a blonde and muscled young man in a loose sleeveless shirt. He wrests his hand from her grip and she stands and cheers, raising both of her chiseled arms over her head.
The crowd roars, and the workers busy behind the bar and start serving drinks to all of the ladies inside the tavern. The tavern then began to buzz and come alive for the evening. The piles of gold on the gambling tables grew taller, corners where there were whispers became full of shouting. Couples moved tables and danced, the space filled to the brim and spilled over with loud music and laughter.
Kylen took a seat at the edge of the booth full of his hired hands, and appraised them. "I feel confident that in ten days' time, I'll be here with my belongings back in my hand...and perhaps all of you will be here as well! I certainly do hope so. You are a strange group, but in my experience, my vast experience, strange groups like these make fast friends, daring adventures and a lot of money. I am eager to turn over to you the rest of your compensation. If you find yourself in need of anything for your travels, I am staying in the room just there." He points a gnarled finger towards the doors across the stage, at a specific room behind the gambling tables. You'll find the keys for your own rooms at the bar, Biren knows you each by name and will see that you're given your keys."
"Have ye' got a map?" Roran inquired.
"I suppose I do, rather, you have a map." Kylen unfurled a large rolled scroll onto the table, and slides it in front of Roran. He borrows Fernans quill and places an 'X' just a ways to the north before the Aziran desert."
"How many days travel would you say that is?" Roran poured over the map.
"Well that will depend largely on you, if you make haste you could arrive in as few as two days. If you take a more cautious approach, I'd wager you could stretch out the journey as much as you'd like, but I will be here for ten days." Kylen stood. "Thank you all for your courage. You take my hopes with you as you go. Goodnight."
He leaned heavily on his staff as he crept across the crowded and rowdy room to his quarters. The party shared nervous smiles and excited laughter with the night in the tavern at their disposal. They basked in the anticipation of the journey to come tomorrow, but for now, they'd share their first evening as a team. In a perfect world, it would be the first of many.