GREETINGS RED DRAGON INN LURKERS Pull up a chair and enjoy the tale of the 'Treasure Seekers' as they begin an epic quest in the world of Aihrde fraught with unknown dangers and high adventure!

WARNING This particular adventure may contain intense graphic scenes and/or Mature Adult Content that some readers may find to be too sensitive or offensive in nature for their literary tastes!

Please Proceed with Caution! For the sake of creating a great adventure any tobacco or alcohol related, drug related and/or sexual references are by no means intended to promote or glorify their use in Real Life!

The same should be understood regarding the descriptions of any major or minor graphic violence ... including the use of all other elements in this adventure that are necessary components for an Epic Fantasy Adventure!

SPECIAL THANKS to the Owners and Moderators of the Red Dragon Inn who make the posting of this and other adventures possible for us InnMates to enjoy!

SPECIAL APPRECIATION to Stephen Chenault of Troll Lord Games who gave me permission to use the Castles & Crusades products to help craft an exciting and entertaining adventure!

World of Aihrde
Region of Aachen
City of Heristat
Toothless Dragon Tavern
Early Evening on Friday
Marrero 5, 101awd (After Winter Dark)
Mad Dog Muldoon rubbed his hands together with joyful anticipation as the grizzled, middle aged owner of the 'Toothless Dragon Tavern' set his eyes upon the party of adventurers who were assembled around his huge private table in the spacious back room.

He walked with a limp, had numerous scars over his large rugged frame, most notably the one across his face that was partially hidden by the black eye patch that covered his right eye; but the burly human fighter was still strong enough to pull his own weight and much more in a battle.

However, he had long ago grown weary of the life of a mercenary adventurer, choosing to settle in Heristat, where he had opened the Toothless Dragon Tavern, nearly ten years ago.

"Ye answered me notice fer stout uv heart explorators!

"No experience needed I writes!

"I see by da looks uv ye I got what I asked fer!

"Serves me right fer not bein a mite more particulatin in me choices!

"These be yer sacks uv 50 gold coins fer signaturin up!

"Gud fer payin off debts or openin accounts fer an eye ta yer futures!

"Makes no never mind ta me how ye spends yer fee!

"Now take dese here maps so ye kin all decide among yerselfs as to where ye be figurrin ta set sail in three days!

"Captan Crayfish kin be trusted well nuff fer shur!

"Same wit his scurvy crew!

"All ye need do when ye return be ta shew me where ye been!

"Plus wit Treasures nuff ta make me a gud profit fer me troubles!

"Ye git a gud slice fer yer troubles too!"

The school year was almost over at the bard’s school. Most of the students, especially the seniors were in a joyous mood. For the underclassmen it meant a summer to enjoy the frivolities of their hometowns until classes resumed in fall. The seniors looked forward to beginning their own careers. All that is except one, “You have to graduate this year Elyra.” Elyra frowned, “But headmaster I have not yet learned all that I feel I need.” With a look of disagreement the headmaster replied, “You have already been here far longer than any other student. Why, you have been a senior for the last 20 years. How much longer do you intend to stay?” Elyra thought about that a moment. She had been here a long time and seen hundreds of students come and go as well as a few teachers. But that was only if measured on a human scale. For the short-lived 20 years would be a third of a lifetime. As an elf it was not so long a time. “When I have mastered the craft I shall depart.” She retorted. “No, no, no. With your quest for perfection you would never leave. It is for your own good that I offer you a choice. Graduate or be expelled.” Elyra recoiled in shock, “You wouldn’t!” she exclaimed. A look into the headmaster’s eyes said he most certainly would. “Very well then, I believe I will don the robes and walk the stage next week.”

A week later Elyra was true to her word and she became an official graduate. In truth she was probably qualified to be on the faculty with all she had learned. Now it was time for her to set out and find her way in the world. The first order of business was shopping. Any good bard knew that appearance was important. Simple folks expected a traveling minstrel to look exotic even if they were from the next town. After much searching she compiled an outfit that she felt certain would be memorable. First came knee high, black boots in the swashbuckler style. Canary yellow, silk pants ended where a puffy silk shirt began. A long tailed, black, high-cut coat nearly completed her outfit. The crowning touch was a musketeer style black felt hat with an enormous, white plume. The plume was showy but also practical for the feather doubled as her quill pen. Knowing that not all days would be warm and full of sunshine she bought a heavy black cloak and splurged on a spear shaped fastener for it is important to keep ones deity happy. Taking the letter once more from her pocket she read it silently. “I suppose it is off to the docks to find this ship and see where the winds take me.”

dawn breaks, journey starts
joy, pain, happiness, sorrow
an end yet unknown

A small figure stood towards the rear of the assembled people in the back room of the Toothless Dragon Tavern. The hood was up concealing much of their facial features, only a stray lock of Red hair protruded from the hood. The figure was short, several inches below 5 feet, and thin yet wiry. The cloak was long, covering much of the form down almost to the ankles and obscuring much so that perhaps the profession of it’s wearer was unclear. Yet no weapons were visible so it seemed unlikely the person was a warrior, as most proudly displayed their weapons and armor.

"Ye answered me notice fer stout uv heart explorators!

"No experience needed I writes!

"I see by da looks uv ye I got what I asked fer!

"Serves me right fer not bein a mite more particulatin in me choices!

"These be yer sacks uv 50 gold coins fer signaturin up!

"Gud fer payin off debts or openin accounts fer an eye ta yer futures!

"Makes no never mind ta me how ye spends yer fee!

"Now take dese here maps so ye kin all decide among yerselfs as to where ye be figurrin ta set sail in three days!

"Captan Crayfish kin be trusted well nuff fer shur!

"Same wit his scurvy crew!

"All ye need do when ye return be ta shew me where ye been!

"Plus wit Treasures nuff ta make me a gud profit fer me troubles!

"Ye git a gud slice fer yer troubles too!"

As the owner of the Tavern laid out the job to which they had all come to inquire; Amur ‘Nimblefingers’ of the Red Buttons listened intently as he looked around at the others and wondered if he could trust his life to those gathered here if he accepted the job. The young man, kid to some, was not easy to trust, but if he had to travel with others then he knew he would have to learn to trust. He had always worked alone in the past, but this was a new chapter in his life and changes were coming.

Amur had only been in Heristat a few days when he heard of the summons for adventurers; though he had lived on the streets of Eluythus most of his life, this was the first venture outside of that city. He had come to Heristat as it was the closest city up the river and he thought perhaps a fresh start somewhere else was in order.

He had little, all of his possession in the world he was either wearing or slung in a large drawstring sack which hung around his body. The prospect of 50 gold and more to come was intriguing to him; he had never had that much money before having stolen most of what he had on him.

The job sounded like something he thought he could handle, and from the looks of the others there were several who were experienced in fighting. He was not a fighter, actually he disliked fighting, but he could defend himself if the need arose. His small wiry frame was strong but it was built more for speed than attack. If he joined this group he would leave the fighting to those whose had chosen that profession. His skills tended towards gaining access to forbidden places and if they were hunting for hidden treasure they would need his skills.

Amur was excited about the prospects but he hide it well, he listened and watched and waited. He had every intention of joining this venture, but he would wait to see who else of this assembled group would also go.

(OOC: More to come later, once a few other people post. )

Vincent had always wanted to be a knight, ever since he was a toddler and watched them march through the city streets at parades. He could not believe his ears, when at the age of 7 he was one of the many children called to join the knights order. It was the start of something new, the start of a brand new adventure, the start of his chance to help out his family. For 12 years he would wake up before the rising of the sun, and train until mere moments before the moon replaced the sphere of light in the sky. Many of his teachers were impressed by his devotion to training, and how he still had time to make many friends among the recruits. All of this happiness came crashing down, a year before he would've graduated as a full fledged knight. He received the news of his father's passing in the middle of a training session, and it destroyed him. Thoughts raced through his mind like frightened rabbits, "Who'd take care of mother?" "Who will work to bring home food?" "What will happen to my training?" This was all answered shortly when he was asked to leave the next day, until he could come up with the sufficient funds to return and complete his training. With heavy heart, and fear racing through his mind, Vincent turned his back on the Knight's Training School. Lo and behold, this would not be the end of his story!

Vincent was startled when the children rushed by, holding a piece of parchment, yelling and screaming about treasure hunting. Snatching the parchment and reading, his eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face. "Heristat..." He thought, "I need to get there soon, that 50 gold could be enough to get me back into school, and fend for my mother!" Rushing home, he explained as quickly and coherently what his plan was to his mother as he gathered up his few possessions and the small amount of money that would just barely cover his trip to the small town. Kissing his mother on the forehead and saying goodbye, he rushed out the door to the nearest stable.

City of Heristat
Toothless Dragon Tavern
Early Evening on Friday
Marrero 5, 101awd (After Winter Dark)
Vincent stood near the front of the group listening to Mad Dog explain what they were going to do. Scratching at the stubble on his face, he looked around the group and wondered what they might think of him. He himself thought he looked friendly enough, given a bit rough around the edges. He'd been called handsome many times, and been told he had a gift with words. He knew for a fact he was quite muscular, and it showed on his bared forearms. His shortsword hung to his left, and his shield on his back. Though he definitely did not look like a knight, he had the air of one around him. It may have helped that he also had a Bull painted on his shield, and a small sword pendant hung around his neck. He smiled at his fellow adventurer standing nearest to him, then glanced over to the back of the room where the short cloaked person stood at the back. "What an interesting group of people," he thought, "Wonder if they're here for the same reason as me."

The new day born out of the darkness of the night was bright and cool the bustle of a city on the verge of another busy day clearly heard. Vendors opening their stalls, eatery's beginning the cooking of bread, early bird taverns opening their doors for both food and drink. This was the city of Heristat a place of hope and goodness too many but as with all city's a place of hopelessness and sorrow to others.

He watched as prostitutes returned to their Inn rooms and homes to rest from a night hopefully well served. Soldiers on their morning patrols, lawmen rousting the drunks from taverns and alley‘s. Thieves, muggers, and pickpockets counting their gains, teen gangs of elves, humans and other races roaming their so called hoods collecting their protection pay offs.

A city of magic and wonder with shrines to almost all the Gods. A city of shadows and corruption, bordellos and gambling halls. Shops and taverns dedicated to the pawning of both legal and illegal items gained by a wealth of Treasure Seekers. A city full of many different races living and dying together without a seconds thought. The Elf Ranger known only as Crow sat on the roof top of the Toothless Dragon Tavern above a rented room window looking into the city spread out before him, and hated it.

Well maybe not hate, he thought to himself, after all hate was a strong word perhaps a better word was disgusted. To an Elf born of the wilds of the Detmold forest even before he was born, a city of this size was like a cancer on the face of the earth. Born into a family bigger then most, a circus family, the young aged Elf once known as Maithias Crowmarhte was not one to stay long in one place. The only reason to be in this foul city was work which he needed and hoped would pay as well as promised. As he sat there as the sun rose into the sky he replayed Mad Dog Muldoon’s words in his mind.

"Ye answered me notice fer stout uv heart exploratory. No experience needed I writes
I see by da looks uv ye I got what I asked fer.Serves me right fer not bein a mite more particulatin in me choices. These be yer sacks uv 50 gold coins fer signaturin up.
Gud fer payin off debts or openin accounts fer an eye ta yer futures. Makes no never mind ta me how ye spends yer fee. Now take dese here maps so ye kin all decide among
yerselfs as to where ye be figurrin ta set sail in three days. Captan Crayfish kin be trusted well nuff fer shur Same wit his scurvy crew. All ye need do when ye return be ta shew me where ye been. Plus wit Treasures nuff ta make me a gud profit fer me troubles. Ye git a gud slice fer yer troubles too!"

The Elf Ranger had to smile as he thought about that bag of 50 gold. Ahhh he’d had it all of an hour maybe before paying off his tithe to Betula. Well he was those three days later waiting for the other nine members of this quest to climb aboard ship and head to Tagea. Out of the nine others he had only recognized the Druid, Tohmas Goodwood. Though not friends per say, both knew of the other as they both were of Detmold and each had a healthy respect for the other. Finally seeing a few of nine others headed towards the docks he wasted no time and feeling a little bored stood, moved to the roof’s edge, and in a series of jumps, springs, and a last minute flip landed on his feet in front of the Taverns main door and hurried to join the others.

(OOC: Will add more if needed)

In the time before most men could remember, his people had lived in the Northern Marches of New Aenoch. They had stayed even when others felt the land turning to evil. When the Horned One had released his horde they were among the last driven out.

In small bands they wandered wide, covering all of the known lands. So it was that they would be there to serve and protect, then move on. Among themselves they were known as “Wimachtendienk”, the Brotherhood. Those outside the people only knew that they had been help by the wild folks passing through and never realized that the Brotherhood was ever watching over the land.

The children of the people stayed with their birth mother. She tended their needs and sheltered them, but the tribe raised them. Although the birth father may be known, he was just the one that give the seed of life, the tribe rejoiced in that life, all taking part in the raising and teaching of the children. So it was that all were of the same family. The pairing of a man and a woman was not seen as something that was permanent unless those two chose to make it so. But this did not change the feeling of love and respect that was shared among the people. The sharing of seed and the bringing of life were part of the natural order.

As the young grew they felt the love of the people around them and in turn learned to love and respect all. They learned to love and respect nature. They learned to track and tread lightly upon the land, to hunt, to cook, make the daily things a tribe may need. They also learned to protect the people, the knife, the tomahawk, the lance and the bow became as part of them. The ways of war were taught as these were still unsafe times. Each of them then choosing what they felt the strongest, be that serving the needs in the camp, providing for the band, tending the needs of the body or protecting the people.
Tohmaz found he had a sense of the forest, the balance of nature and healing those in need. To this end he dedicated himself to Goddess Atira.

He had grown up hearing of the wilds at the foot of the Ridge. His heart yearned to see the lands of fable. He hoped that someday he could walk the old Forrest in her name and heal it from the deeply root evil that had so long dwelt there. And perhaps one day carry her healing power beyond to Blighted Screed.

With this dedication came the choice that he would have to leave his band. He would wander the lands learning the secrets of the plants and animals. Also seeking out the wise and learned of the people. Living with them, serving them and learning from them the secrets of the life forces. Plants, animals and the land itself had names, ways that he must know.

The Shaman of each band shared the rites and ways to relieve suffering, to cure diseases, heal wounds and to relieve pain. Through their teachings he learned how the human touch could aid in the healing of mind and spirit. The tender caress, the warmth of the body soothed and calmed. The Shaman also led him to those from outside of the “People” that shared their ways and knowledge. To them the Shaman were considered “Wild Druid”. The Druids accepted the Shaman and taught them their ways, spells and language.

The years passed and the boy grew to Manhood. Tohman stood tall, over six foot. His dark tanned body was strong and muscular. The sandy brown hair was tied back in a ponytail with a leather band around his head to keep any stray hair from falling in his eyes. His voice was a rich baritone that made the reciting of rituals sound almost like song. Dark brown eyes were set deep in chiseled face. It was little wonder that the woman of the bands took him and taught him the ways of pleasure. They shared themselves with him and taught him how to bring joy to the woman he was with. The harmony of spirit and love of people strengthened his healing skills.

The Shaman also taught him the ways of logic. To see what was best for all and how guide others to these ends. To learn that it is not the imposed will on the people that made things right, but right that made the will of the people. That great events can start from a small nudge. They taught him of his responsibility to uphold the high ideals, to be prepared and to not bring ill light on the ways of the Shaman. For it only take one false heart to taint all.

The day came when the teachers turned him out. They had nothing more to teach. He now had to wander, practice his skills and find his way. The time would come when he would find the band that would need him and he would stay with them. So as he departed he was given simple basic supplies. His clothing he had made himself, breeches, loin cloth, deer skin shirt and soft soled boots. He had tooled hide into leather and the leather into strong protective armor. The silhouette of a woman’s face was tooled below his left shoulder, the face of Atira. The armor was both strong and light weight, colored to bland in to the forest. It would help protect from the elements as well as attackers weapons. A floppy broad brimmed leather hat protected his head and eyes from the sun and rain. A long blade sheath knife and tomahawk hung from a waist belt. A strong hunting bow and quiver of arrows hang the backpack he had sewn. A warm wool sleeping blanket was rolled and tied to the pack. A reinforce water pouch hung from a long strap over his shoulder. In his pack were sacks of dried food and grain, flint and a sparker, bowls, sewing supplies, simple tools and rope.

Towmaz set out and for two years traveling alone. He served and healed the people and those other humans that crossed his path. His skills in the forest to heal damage that raiding Orcs and other creatures had brought him feeling closer to his Goddess. He helped farmers to bring their lands to bare crops where once was barren land. He could feel Atira’s presents and felt guided by her will. The old feeling of his youth grew stronger; the he wanted to return to the old lands and to cleanse them in the name of Atira.

He journeyed near the city of Heristat. Here he heard of a call for the strong of heart to travel and free the land that had been held by the evil for so long. This must be the will of Atira; that he should go to learn how to find a way the to Saelic Forest. So Tohmaz sought out where they were seeking volunteers. When he arrived there they were still taking members so he made his mark in the book. The Shaman took the gold offer but then had placed it in safe keeping for him. As he listened to the man that had called for the seekers he heard they must travel by boat. He had never been on a boat before and he was uneasy to go on board.

----------------------
Morning Three Days Later.........

Being one of last he gathers his pack and walked to dock and up the gangway. He had expected to see many onboard, but there few besides the crew. There were barely enough for a hunting party, was this to the band he would serve? Carrying his pack to the center of the boat Tohmaz sat on the deck so he couldn’t see the water and leaned against the mast.

Elyra arrived on the dock and took a look at the ship that was to transport the group across the waters. “I hope the seas are calm.” She thought. The low slung, dragon ship was not at all what she expected. She thought back to what she had heard about sailing and sailors. Usually, a bigger ship was seen as better. ‘Strike one’. Women on board ships were considered by many as bad luck. ‘Strike two’. Ships carried boats on them and this was no ship according to that requirement. ‘Strike three’. Perhaps this was an instance where this was the 1 in 100 that defied the odds.

Having seen the ship she made her way to the tavern. Most would have gone to the tavern first but she figured a quick look at the boat was in order first. Upon arrival at the tavern she met the others and after a few introductions it seemed that all agreed on a plan. She could hardly wait to see the reaction of the others to their mode of transport.

Near the front of the small gathering, wearing a look of eager excitement was a tall, broad man wearing rather plain studded leather, and a hammer strapped to his back. He had all the appearence of a warrior, but that the symbol of Toft, the Dwarven God of Luck and chance, adorned his Hammer, and the holy symbol around his neck. He had recieved the summons, and had seen the opportunity to take many chances, and better serve his god.
Brushing a few strands of his shoulder-length orange hair from his bearded face, he grins, but remains silent. He would go wherever the party decided, as it made it all the more random. And he didn't bother introducing himself to anyone, as there would be plenty of time for that in the coming days. For now, the large, easy going man only considered the many great adventures to be had, and all the possible wealth it would bring to his faith. Toft would be pleased with him.....

In the end, Amur had walked up and reached out a hand from beneath his cloak and picked up the sack of gold that was to be his retainer for this mission, he took the map that was offered as well. With that done he reached up a lone hand and withdrew his hood so that everyone could see the one that was joining them. He figured they might not know what to make of him, he didn’t want them thinking he was some mage of the like. He looked to each of his future companions and nodded his head once then turned and left the tavern.

Three days later
Amur watched from the shadows near the dock at the ship that was to be theirs, it seemed small more of a coastal raider perhaps, but it should serve their purpose. He knew little of ships, he had seen them often but this was his first time on one this size.

He thought of the last couple days while he had waited for the ship to sail; he had rented a room last night so that he could sleep once in a nice bed and had eaten a fine meal. Who knew, it might be his last for awhile. He had gone to the Temple of Hermes last night and made a Gold offering to the God of Thieves. He didn’t have much use of Gods but the sister at the orphanage had instilled in him some belief, he had chosen Hermes as it was said he looked out for thieves as well as travelers and such. It figured it couldn’t hurt to have a little backup in case things went wrong. He had stashed the rest of his money, he figured the ship would have stores and stuff for them so he didn’t think he needed any of the remaining money for now. Besides, they might come back empty handed and he would need that for later.

Amur saw others of the group coming towards the ship; he slipped from the shadows when they approached and again he nodded to them and figured introductions were in order.

“I am Amur,” he said simply, “I am your burglar it seems.”

With his hood back and his cloak open, they could all see him more clearly now. He stood a couple inches under 5', was thin and wiry, he wore simple leather armor and the only weapons that could be seen were a dagger sticking out of each boot top. The most notable feature was his shocking red hair which he wore down to just touch the nape of his neck. Though the hair covered his ears mostly, his eyes and facial structure definitely hinted at Elvin lineage.

For weeks Willem had walked away from the so called life he once had. Horror and devastation were all that was left, and all he wanted to do was get away from it all. Even now his past life still pursued him in more ways than one, and the only way for him to escape was to keep heading south, away from the Detmold forest and to the coast that was his salvation.

He traveled light, only having a few pouches on his belt to hold the little food he had scavenged. He was dirty and mud splattered from head to toe, the foothills of the Voralberg Mountains catching what seemed like every rain cloud that passed by. Nights where it was warm enough he slept outside using his hooded cloak as a blanket. When it got to be too cold he tried to find a cave or shelter, even one or two times breaking into an isolated cabin, which thankfully were unoccupied.

Nestled in the side of a forested hill, Willem sat in a small but dry cave as outside it down-poured. He laid out the pieces of his studded leather armor, two long shin guards and matching thigh plates, leather vambraces and chest piece that covered his torso front and back, ending with the sides of the armor coming to a low point, protecting the flanks of his legs. The entire suit was black including the studs in the armor, the soft leather padding underneath a dark grey.

Using his dirk Willem cut the long hair that had grown, bringing his black hair back down to a short and messy length. He then moved onto trimming down the long beard he had been growing, cutting it all off and leaving a rough stubble.

He sat back against the cave wall, his armor across from him drying on rocks, and what little pack he had sat next to him. Reaching into one of his pouches he grabbed a handful of jerky and a potato he was able to dig up earlier and ate the last of his rations. The entire time he looked out through the rain and down the side of the hill, where cradled next to the river Innes sat Heristat, a city of lights like a bright beacon of civilization in a sea of forests. This was his next destination, a stepping stone on his journey away from this dreaded land. He wanted nothing more to do with this region of Aachen, but knew it wouldn't be easy. He laid down to sleep, thoughts of what was to come in the days ahead.

Two days of travel from the cave Willem stayed in brought him to the gates of Heristat. The early spring weather made for slow travel and cold nights, but he had survived. With weary eyes Willem walked into the town and made his way around the streets with one goal on his mind. He needed food for he was hungry, a bed to sleep because he was tired, and a way to leave this city as soon as possible. One thing got him all of this, and it was gold, something he had none of.
Finding work in the city wasn't too hard, the first few days he lent himself out hauling barrels and crates on the docks for some silvers, barely enough to get by each night. He knew something had to happen or he'd be stuck in the city forever, and that was when he saw it. On his way back to his dingy room that had barely more than a pile of hay, a poster caught his eye. 50 gold it said, 50 gold for someone willing to put their neck on the line, and no experience needed. That much gold could get him a boat out of here, but he would just run into the same problem again later with no money. No, he needed substantially more gold than this, but it was a start. He tore the poster down and drew his hood up close, and went to bed with thoughts of grand adventure in far away lands.

The next morning he made his way over to the "Toothless Dragon", a tavern that was much out of his league when he first got to the city. Upon entering it was easy to see where he needed to go, a group of armed and armored people sitting and standing around a man, who was just about to speak. Willem approached and sat moments before he started.

"Ye answered me notice fer stout uv heart explorators!
"No experience needed I writes!
"I see by da looks uv ye I got what I asked fer!
"Serves me right fer not bein a mite more particulatin in me choices!
"These be yer sacks uv 50 gold coins fer signaturin up!
"Gud fer payin off debts or openin accounts fer an eye ta yer futures!
"Makes no never mind ta me how ye spends yer fee!
"Now take dese here maps so ye kin all decide among yerselfs as to where ye be figurrin ta set sail in three days!
"Captan Crayfish kin be trusted well nuff fer shur!
"Same wit his scurvy crew!
"All ye need do when ye return be ta shew me where ye been!
"Plus wit Treasures nuff ta make me a gud profit fer me troubles!
"Ye git a gud slice fer yer troubles too!"

Willem nodded when approached by the man who handed him a sack of 50 gold, the metallic coins a welcoming weight. Some in the group spoke amongst themselves as they recieved their payment, and they all looked more formidable than himself. Compared to the swords, chains, and shields that some donned, his mud caked black armor and single dirk sheathed on his belt seemed a bit lack luster. Being one of the last to arrive, Willem had taken a seat in the back, and now was one of the first to leave, easily going unnoticed from his position in the back of the group. He knew he needed a blade, and he even knew how to wield one, but that didn't stop his hand from shaking when he thought of the last time his hand had gripped the pommel of a sword. Swallowing his nervousness, he shook out the shakes and carried on, heading for some markets further in the city.

He spent the next few hours shopping for some gear, buying a bedroll, another belt pouch, a good sized canteen for water, and finally a broad bladed sword. He chose a plain looking broadsword, the dull metallic blade unmarked, and the same dull colored pommel wrapped tightly with a brown leather grip. The only distinguishing thing about the blade was the blacksmiths mark that was hammered into the end of the pommel, a small bird of some sort with a hammer over it. The blade hung off of a plain leather sheathe on his left hip, two leather straps keeping it snug in place. He then bought a good meal, and then decided to keep the rest back at the Toothless Dragon, so quickly he headed back.

Upon entering he saw a few party members talking about where to go, and confirming some place he never heard of named Tagea. A quick smile crossed his face at the idea of going somewhere he has never heard of, his dreams slowly becoming a reality. He asked the man who spoke earlier if he could keep the rest of his money here, safe away for when they return. Purchasing a hot meal and a mug of cold ale, Willem sat by himself away from the group and ate peacefully, happy that his life is going somewhere far away from the dark forests of the north.

It was early morning in Heristat as Areldor approached the dock. It has been three days since Mad Dog the night in the backroom at the Toothless Dragon and he wanted to make sure he was early to make the boat. As he walked down the dock, he noticed a large gathering of people near one ship. He squinted to improve his vision. What he saw was looked like some whom were at the meeting in the tavern that night. As Areldor got closer he started to adjust backpack and side bag on his person. Moving toward the group with his black cloak covering his outfit of black tunic with gold trim at the neck and cuffs with off white trousers and soft boots. His shoulder length brown hair was pulled in to a ponytail which made his gray eyes standout.


Areldor ponder about his journey up to this point and mused to himself of what his uncle would be thinking. Areldor remembered his last night before leaving the Winged Ox in Waltenshaw. This was his home for 20 years and it was a bitter sweet goodbye. He remembered how Uncle Garlin was glad how the he took to all the training and learning from him. All that he knew he gave to him. Having no children Garlin looked to Areldor as his own and now that he was in his 60’s Areldor was wondering how much more time the gods would give him. He might never see his uncle again on this side of life, but he need to see what was out there and so did his uncle. “You have taught me well uncle; I will use all the knowledge to help me survive but also to do good when I can. When I return, I will have stories to tell you like the ones I have heard from you and the many travelers that have passed our way.” The next morning Garlin fixed a good breakfast hugged his nephew and sent him on his way.


That was a month ago since then Areldor made his way to Bleiberg by riding on farm wagons and walking, then using most of his money to take a boat to Heristat. While I on the ship he would entertained some with smoke creatures and such as he puffed on his pipe or play his recorder that his mother taught him to use. Some would treat him and others would not but that did not bother him for he was enjoying the adventure.


When Areldor got to Heristat he asked around for a good tavern. He got a couple but decided to try the Toothless Dragon first. Upon arriving at the tavern he got a room for a week which took all of his money. Now with a roof and no money Areldor looked for a job. He went down from his room to hear of the owners call for treasure seekers and was paying 50gold pieces and to keep some of what they found on the trip.

To Areldor that was what he was waiting for “A real adventure to a new and strange place. Maybe finding lost treasure and magic.” he said to himself. He wondered if it was real or not, but he was out of money and he also had to pay homage to his goddess Minerva in a couple of days and this gold would do. So he went to backroom of the Toothless Dragon to meet with Mad Dog and found about 9 other folks taking him up on the offer.


Checking pouch belt for his spells and adjusting daggers, one on each hip, then slowly pulling out his staff from his backpack, he approached the gathering of adventures to see who came to go on a treasure hunt.

"Areldor , Areldor Glanolwath nice to me you Amur." spoken with smile, from a young, clean face, gray eyed man. Areldor with staff in his left hand, extended his right hand toward the short stature elf. Then he spoke "blessing and greeting my brother." in elfish as it was a common form of greeting from where Areldor family lived. Also it was good policy to try to speak to all non-humans in there own tongue to make them feel respected. This was his uncle's way and it worked well at the Winged Ox he hoped it will work with this group.

As the night wore on, Vincent decided he might as well get to know some of his fellow explorers and treasure hunters. Scanning the room he noticed the ragged looking man sitting by himself eating. Calling out to the bar keep for a meal he went over to the man and sat down with him.

"I noticed you're one of the people who've answered the call of treasure." Bowing his head and crossing his arm over his chest he spoke once more, "My name is Vincent Wysman, I've also noticed you're also a man of the sword. How long have you been at it?" Leaning back in the chair Vincent awaited his meal and a response from this new companion.

Willem slowly shoved rice into his mouth with a wooden spoon, looking out the window at the horse drawn carriages and wagons passing by. He almost didn't see the large man sit at his table.

"I noticed you're one of the people who've answered the call of treasure. My name is Vincent Wysman, I've also noticed you're also a man of the sword. How long have you been at it?"

Willem looked up directly into the eyes of the young man sitting across from him, and kept his gaze while he finished chewing his rice. His brown eyes kept Vincent locked for an almost uncomfortable length of time, until he spoke up.

" Aye, I'm one of the ones who answered the posters. But I'm no man of the sword, I'm just a man who knows where to stick a blade when needed."

Willem let a pause linger for a moment, and let his left elbow rest on the table and support his head while his right hand pushed rice around with a spoon. Before either could speak up again, he spoke once more.

"What about you, Vincent. How long have you been a man of the sword, and what's that blade ever done for you to make you want to be with it so long?"

He let the question linger while he shoved another helping of rice into his mouth, and waited for a reply.