The Dancing Duckling was bubbling with the noise of the crowd, and Rorick looked nervous. He checked the clock on the wall again, and gave a bit of a gulp. 6:35.

"When that man gets here I'm going to wring his guts out." Rorick thought to himself. "Of course, I'll do it after he tells his damn story so that the customer's don't do the same to me..."

It had seemed to good. Eleak te'Shea, master storyteller had offered - free of charge - to come to Rorick's inn to tell stories. He didn't say what stories, he didn't say why, but Rorick didn't care. Eleak was renowned across the continent. If not the world. And the fact that Rorick had bragged about him coming wasn't helping the case either. People had shown up in troves to hear of the great tale, and yet nobody had heard anything from the man himself - or had gotten an explanation as to why Rorick was charging extra money tonight for everything.

"Eleak is more than enough reason to charge this much." Rorick wiped a glass clean and stacked it away with the others, which were few and far between. "If he ever shows up."

Suddenly a shout came from the crowd, and Rorick couldn't help but shudder hearing it. "Oi! Rorick! You said this guy would be here at six! Where is the bleeding man? If he doesn't show, I'm coming to get my gold back. All of it!"

"Pipe down Morio! I told you, he'll get here soon!" But Rorick was wondering the same thing. Where was the blighter?

A motion to his left caught his eye, and Rorick turned, shaking his head. "Now now, I don't care how late the bugger is, no people behind the bar!" However as he finished his turn, Rorick wished he had picked a better choice of words.

A smirk came from what seemed to be a face of blackest night, as ice blue eyes pierced through Rorick into his core. A silky smooth voice escaped from the figured before him. "The bugger is late? Is that what you said?"

Nothing escaped Rorick's lips, as Eleak te'Shea burst out laughing. "Haha, you should see the look on your face! Well good sir, it believes I've been a bit tardy, so I'll just head on out there and set things right, yes? Please, do bring me an elven wine when you get the chance." And with a fluid turn, Eleak strode out on to the makeshift stage. The crowd hardly noticed though, whether too engulfed in their food or their drink.

With a wave of his hands, Eleak snuffed all the lighting in the inn, then re-ignited it. The silence that resulted was the perfect opportunity for Eleak to start his work.

"Ladies, and gentlemen, boys and girls! I have been absolutely blessed to have the option to perform for you all this evening. I was taking care of some last minute errands, tie-ups, autographs, and other usual things. I come to you tonight not to sing of some fictional tale, but to sing of heroes. Not of legends, but of stories. Not of fantasy, but of reality. I come here, to sing to you, about The Heroes of the Shining City." Eleak let this last statement ring out, followed by a dynamic pause.

Rorick himself was taken aback. The Dancing Duckling resided in a city that was often called the Shining City, but it was often explained that it was because of the seas to the west, when the sun was just right the city was well lit and reflected beautifully in the waters. But surely Eleak wasn't going to sing of fisherman and farmers. Rorick gulped again.

"Yes, the Heroes of the Shining City." Eleak resumed. "Now I know what you're thinking, you who live in the Shining City. You think I'm here to sing of you, even though you, to make up for me being a bit late. But I'm not late at all. I was picking up the pieces, gathering my history around town, because this is a tale of what happened here three thousand years ago. And it all started in here one terrible, terrible day. Allow me to begin. Though I could start right in the beginning of our heroes, I'll start a bit before. So sit back, relax, and listen to my tale. The tale of your city..."

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As the door of the gate slam shut, you look around the crowd of people with you. Friends, enemies, and a large group of people you didn't know stood before you, panting and out of breath. The sound of the battering against the walls still pounded, and the raking of claws on the gates was deafening. This group of people had made it in to the Shining City, put together by the gods. A burly guard approaches the group, his voice wavering, but firm. "Attention, please, your attention. I want you all to continue moving, don't crowd the doorway. If you will come with me, I will show you your lodgings. Due to space constraints, and the optimism that there are more who will be joining us, you will be placed five in each room. Please put old feuds aside, as we must join together to banish this onslaught. This way now, hurry up."

The crowd moved, following the guard, looking each other up and down, whispering to their people about who they do and don't want to be roomed with. A lookout call from the top of the wall signals another crowd of people to come, but you don't get a look at it as you join with the crowd following the lone guard.

After what seems like ages, the guard approaches a building, opens the door, and calls out. "As you walk in, you will be given a number, please follow that to your room, and await further orders there."

One room is filled with a lithe elf, with a small viper curled comfortably around his arm, wild eyes looking this way and that, taking in all the sights, while shifting to make sure his hands aren't obstructed.

There is also a burly dwarf with a wicked scar across his face, with a thick beard combed down into one single braid. A wicked axe rests on his belt, with what seems to be some bloodstains that haven't come off in a long time.

Another shiftier dwarf is also sitting in the room, spinning some gold over his knuckles. Sitting with his back in a corner, he has a crossbow laid over his lap, cocked and loaded to be able to move at the slightest provocation.

Another dwarf, this one with a bit of a purplish hue also appraises the others in the room, obviously feeling happy about the dwarven population in the room. A wicked pick hangs at his side, with several nicks in it that seem to be from damaging others. A bow also is slung over his back with the aged look of good use.

And lastly, another dwarf walks in to the room, this one with wild hair and an unkempt beard. Shouldering a great shield, and carrying an even greater hammer that seems to be made of stone, he carries a small, vicious looking mammal in his arms.

The five occupants stared and wondered what would come next. They would be living together for a while though, so it couldn't help to know each other.

(Okay guys, this is just an intro post, making sure everyone is still here and ready to go. Sorry I'm a bit late, but I'm ready to get it rolling now.)

Nalir stood in a corner of the room, quietly observing the other four in the room.

Stepping a little bit forward Nalir cleared his throat:

"Well, I guess it's never too early for introductions. I'm Nalir Yursten from Skaldor, it's a pleasure to be roomed with you."

Giving a little bow Nalir stood back, expectantly waiting for someone else to introduce themselves.

Tor nodded gruffly at the first to speak and quickly caught the coin he had been spinning. ((Pretty sure that's me.)) He didn't leave his corner, preferring not to be in a position where someone could sneak up on him. Two fingers twitched towards his crossbow trigger.

"Name's Tor," he said, his amber eyes glancing around the room. For once he wished he hadn't shaved his beard, he needed something to tug on. Instead, he went back to shuffling the coin between his fingers.

"Anybody know what in bloody Hell those things are, anyway?"