14th of Uktar, 1105 GS, 'Year of the dark hunt'

Neverine City, north wall, outside the Ashen Gate

          The flurry of activity outside the yawning entrance of the Ashen Gate was not stifled at all by the icy drizzle that clouded the mid-day sun. Oxen and horses were lashed to wagons and saddled up as the impromtu caravan that was fated to head north was thrown together. Mud began to cake the boots of caravaners as they loaded wagons with tools, dried goods, food, weapons, and most importantly the new lot of recruits headed to joint he ranks of 'Wardens of the Veil'.

          Recruits is a term used lightly, as more dire the need has gotten for bodies to fend off the incursions, the requirements of any able-bodied persons has also deminished. In years past the ranks of the Wardens used to be filled with young nobles, veteran military heroes, and peak physical aspirants who met high standards of the exams. Now, with the veil thinning and attacks from beyond becoming almost monthly instead of annually, the warriors have been hard pressed to keep up such standards. Six years of constant battle and war with no respite in sight has led to any person able to hold a shield or level a crossbow being sent north. If the entirety of Neverine's military was focused on hemming in this issue, it surely would be solved in a short span of time. Unfortunately a looming threat that has assailed the nations of the Central Concord for eternity still bites at the heels of the great alliance today. Though quiet for the past few years, splinters of the Bladed Horde still throw themselves at the mouths of the Ebon-Shroud Vale. Goblins, small ruddy green/grey skinned creatures who value overwhelming numbers as their main tactics, harass the vulnerable patrols and farms that the great keeps of the north and south send out, probing for any massing threat. A small portion of them attempt to slip through the mountains, an even smaller number make it through. Even so, these bands of raiders cause mayhem to the inner grasslands and forests creating a constant need of patrols through the Vale entirely. If it weren't for such threat Neverine and her citizens wouldn't need to rely on such a motly assortment of 'recruits', the likes that congregate now at the Ashen Gate.

"Heard it was the other-kin again, gone n' slipped the veil south a' the Timberlands."

"Nah, don't be such ah' dolt, y'know none 'ave been seen'n comin' through anywhere past theh' rest. Probably some ruddy-skin n' held up in the woods 'round there."

          Two dwarf guards dressed in the scale and leathers of the Emerald Eye, leaned against one of the pair of dark stone crenulated towers that flank the gate. They converse back and forth discussing rumors they've heard about the journey ahead, with word spread about some travelers along the Stoneway being assailed by an apparently unknown attacker.

"Cut that chatter, we need to keep our heads clear for the trip! None a' that down talkin', or Shaundakul will withdraw his blessing, surely."

          A tall and portly man, Anuil Xin was the caravan master organizing the whole expedition. Adorned in hardened leather armors that could turn a blade but still malleable enough to navigate a wagon for hours on the road, he and his team of laborers loaded two of the three wagons full of the needed goods, and seven days worth of feed for the beasts of burden. The trip should only take six, but an extra day's worth was always welcome if needed. Anuil readjusted his top knot, his hair pulled back tightly to the back of his head, and walked through the growing puddles to the third wagon. Congregating in and around the back of the large passenger wagon was twelve would-be sword arms, destined to the Wardens. Looking like a disjointed group of would-be heroes, the group made up of five humans, three elves, three halflings, and a single dragonborn.

"Gather your things and load up, we're heading out in an hours time, once it rings two bells we're heading off!"

Anuil yelled to the group addressing no one in particular, and slapped the wagons side.

"Anything you need for the first few days for food n' drink should be loaded up in the back here, compliments of the Maiden for your trip. Make it last, nothin' you get will be as good as this on the road."

          In two casks and several burlap sacks in the back of the covered wagon, fine quality ale and fresh apples and onions from the surrounding farms made up the higher quality trail rations they'd have for the road. Much of the other food was hardier, albeit lacking in taste.

         Nine of the twelve made their way to various areas, either back into the Hammer ward that the Ashen Gate leads into, around the outside of the large western stone walls leading to the wooden palisaded village of NestleNook, or just climbing into the wagon, sullenly awaiting their fate in the north. Three of our party though, have yet to make up their minds on what to do. A young human woman with ties to some of the nobleage of Neverine, an elven woman who seems focused on a goal long in meeting, and a copper hued dragonborn citizen of Neverine, forged in the eyes of the clergy as a weapon meant to turn against just such a foe as they seek.

          The three of them mingle about the entrance of the Gate, with an hours time to collect their thoughts, equipment, or say a final goodbye. If all goes well in six days, they will reach the remnants of their order and their new brothers in arms, headquarted at Warden's Rest.

Aphelia eyed the other two stragglers dawdling beside her, only mildly curious what had held them back as well. For her, it was only that she had little interest in socializing with anyone on this little excursion. She was here because the voice of Matias kept ringing in her ears, urging her to prove herself worthwhile, to put the gifts the Nameless Bard had bestowed upon her for some reason to good use… which was hardly fair. She had never asked for them in the first place, she had simply wanted her brother to live. And now… now she was reduced to congregating with this motley lot.

She sighed. Matias wasn’t in her head at the moment, but she could almost hear him berating her, telling her she was being too haughty, to make friends with these rough-looking strangers. It was always like that with him, with this god. Imagine, graciousness to those who had hardly shown it, or done anything to deserve it. It was why she was here, why she left her family, her home, her betrothed. It all just felt like such a waste of such incredible power.

Truly, why she had been gifted it was beyond her. Perhaps she was haughty. Perhaps the lack of empathy she often felt for those who had not earned her care was not an attribute Finder was particularly fond of. Why choose her then? Why not give these… blessings or whatever they were to someone who upheld that sort of magnanimous, recklessly inclusionary spirit? Of course, she had wanted them when she had wanted to save her brother, but she was well past that now. Not even Matias seemed to want to converse with her, more often than not, yet here she was.

She looked again to the other two, then tied her bright blond hair up in a high ponytail. That was another thing. Since receiving these abilities, and finally succumbing to Matias’ unrelenting badgering, she had noticed physical changes about her as well. Her hair had always been blond, but never so luminous. Her skin had always been flawless, naturally, save for the small scars on her arms and back from crash landing through the window a few weeks ago, but she swore at times it seemed to glow now. All the blame of course would likely need to go to Finder, who for some reason found it necessary for his conduit to stand out like some trophy of his.

She sighed once again, the nagging of Matias still rattling around in the back of her mind, and she made her way to the other two, much taller than her, smiling as she approached, “Good afternoon, I am Aphelia Thorne. Would you two like to… find a drink or food? Or both? It seems as though we will be saving the world together. It might be nice to get to know each other in the meantime." She shrugged, "First round is on me. What do you say?”

Drusilia Galanodel stood tall among the others in the party, wearing an Elven hooded cloak and boots to help keep the rain from soaking through to the bone. Twin blades hung on her hips, her ice blue eyes studying each of the recruits, looking at posture, weapons, and for signs of fear. Fear would end up causing too many issues along the path, possibly causing injury or death to the rest of the recruits. Her ice white hair mostly hidden behind the hood of her cloak, but a few strands fell in front of her face. Leather armor hung around her thin figure, it looked used but well taken care of as she stood proudly in the shadows listening to the sounds around her and searching the wet terrain around her.

The Ranger stood in the shadows, observing quietly making notes of who may need the most help, who to keep distance from, and who carried too many burdens to be of any use. A woman approached her in the shadows, it seemed she was fighting a personal battle like how she herself felt most days. The woman was beautiful and had spoken directly to the Elf and another future comrade standing in the shadows nearby. Her voice was easy on the ears, and easily understood.

“Greetings Aphelia Thorne, I am Drusilia Galanodel, and I would love to eat and drink my fill before we embark on the journey ahead. I anticipate it will not be an easy journey, they rarely are these days.”

With that she turned towards the nearest tavern with her newest companion, her pack on her back always aware of her surroundings. The Elf bowed slightly offering for Aphelia to proceed into the establishment first.

"Trust in Fate, for Gond has forged yours by his own hammer." These were the last words Brother Thobras spoke to him. At the time, those words rang with truth. Leaving the Sanctuary, however, felt like stepping off a bridge and hoping you knew how to swim. It would almost be a relief to get out into the wild. At least he had training for that. The masses of people - he bowed his head at the thought - he had no place here, but his life was to serve them.

Komantaar stood somewhat awkwardly as the recruits made their way past him and commenced final preparations. He had no such need - his most useful tool hung at his belt already. Two hammers hung heavily at his side, their weight supported by thick leather and buckled in front by a great brass cog, the symbol of Gond.

Two others stood close by, a human and an elf. He always had trouble telling those races apart. Skin was skin, and he could never quite remember which one had the ears. Both of them had light hair. This was going to be difficult.

One of them spoke.

“Good afternoon, I am Aphelia Thorne. Would you two like to… find a drink or food? Or both? It seems as though we will be saving the world together. It might be nice to get to know each other in the meantime." She shrugged, "First round is on me. What do you say?”

“Greetings Aphelia Thorne,” the other replied, “I am Drusilia Galanodel, and I would love to eat and drink my fill before we embark on the journey ahead. I anticipate it will not be an easy journey, they rarely are these days.”

His belly growled at the thought of food. The voice of Gond was often unclear, but the voice of Komantaar's stomach seldom misspoke. "I would join the two of you. It seems my breakfast has worn off." he said, adding, "And it would be nice to get out of the rain for a bit"

“I anticipate it will not be an easy journey,” the icy-haired elven woman continued, “they rarely are these days.”

Aphelia nodded and turned her smile up to the brooding copper dragonborn before her. She had never met one in person before, and he was just as intimidating as she had imagined one might be.

"I would join the two of you,” he replied as well, “It seems my breakfast has worn off. And it would be nice to get out of the rain for a bit"

The young noblewoman tilted her head further back, to the darkening clouds above them, before pulling her warm brown cloak more tightly around her, “I can’t say I disagree with you there. A pleasure to meet the both of you. Shall we?”

Aphelia trotted after her new bowed acquaintance, with the dragonborn in tow as they found their way before The Sword & Sheathe Taphouse. With an unnecessary, but appreciated bow, Drusilia allowed Aphelia to enter the establishment first. A small bit of hesitance stunted her procession, as she had never been inside a taphouse in this area of Neverine City before and wasn’t sure what to expect, but she trudged inside quickly enough to get out of the rain.

The black boots she wore were expensive, but worth their cost, her feet having remained dry in their trek, and now warming here inside the cozy taphouse. Few filled the room, enough for the constant muttering of muted conversation to permeate, or the groan of a losing hand of cards to stick out amongst the otherwise quiet establishment, but that was all.

The trio found a table just as a female dwarf with twin brunette braids made her way behind the disappointingly unplayed piano. Just as Aphelia was about to wave over a server, the woman stepped away and a jaunty tune began to emanate from the instrument. The dwarf smiled to herself as she went back to work, and Aphelia couldn’t help but do the same as she watched the keys play themselves.

Soon another dwarven woman made her way to their table, took their order, and scurried away, leaving the group to themselves amongst the murmuring of the other patrons and the quaint sounds of the piano.

Aphelia glanced at her compatriots, before settling on the dragonborn, another saccharine smile on her face to mask her discomfort, “Now that I think of it, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

((OOC: assuming he replies with his name, if not or something else happens, I’ll revise))

“Komantaar, hmm,” she said and leaned back, the name sounding peculiar as she spoke it aloud herself, and then looked back to him, “Komantaar, I’ve never heard a name like that before. Well, I’ve never met a dragonborn before so I suppose that might be the reason.”

((OOC: any response, will revise as necessary))

A small paused followed, filled by the extraneous sounds of the taphouse, before she continued, “You two already look prepared for a battle at any moment. Have you seen many already? What brings you to the Wardens?”

The elf listened to the murmur around the establishment allowing both to enter the building first. Glancing around once again at the wagon, and the rest of the people lurking in the rain. Once Aphelia and Komantaar were inside, she slipped out of the rain and into the dimly lit building called The Sword & Sheathe Taphouse. Instinctively scanning everyone to recall who was where, and what they wore, as well as the weapons they carried. It was always a safe bet to be prepared to fight at any time, or to be able to talk yourself out of a tight situation. Her years along the road have taught her to be kind to everyone, but to except to be stabbed in the back, so it took a long time for her to build the trust of others.

Having ordered food and drink, she kept her eyes carefully tracking the movements of all the patrons, listening to all the whispers, but focusing on the conversation that included her. The drinks arrived swiftly and the elf smiled thanking their hosts as she heard the words from Aphelia fall upon her, she took in a deep breath. Glancing around once again before offering up a reply as to her twin blades, and constant need to look around and keep track of those around her.

Drusilia nodded the smile disappeared from her face as she recalled the events of her past. "I have been in my share of battles, both before I learned how cruel the world can be, and since then, but now I have embarked on a personal matter that means the world to me. I will not give up my hunt, but have agreed to not stand for others to take life needlessly. The tale is one I hold close to me, but perhaps over time I will share the story of what encouraged me to take up the blades."

The Elf Ranger watched the food appear and noticed the nervousness as if an aura surrounded the dwarf woman. Listening carefully to her words while studying the body language she nodded slowly and cautiously “Yes, we are headed with the Wardens. I will agree to transport the parcel, so long as you guarantee it will not harm anyone.” It was clear the woman was nervous about something, whether the contents of the parcel, or just talking to the strangers itself.

Drawing in a deep breath her hand always resting on the hilt of her weapon still completely aware of her surroundings, as well as the time drawing close to embark on the journey with her new companions. Drusilia waited for the woman to fetch the parcel and added it to the contents of her pack.

“What is your brother’s name and where do you suppose we will find him?” the words fell easily from the Ranger. Quickly refusing the coins from the barmaid as it immediately made her replay her past through her mind. Just as quickly as the scene began unfolding in her mind, she shut it out, it was neither the time nor the place to reminisce about her personal problems. She knew she would need a clear head and focus on the current missions without forgetting about her personal vendetta. Always helping those in need, protecting them from the savages that roamed the world as bullies.

The Elf ate a small portion of the bread and butter, asking for some portions of food for the road, in case they didn’t have enough, or their route got delayed for whatever reason.

“We need to get ready to join the march, before they decide to leave without us. Are you both ready to go? Have everything you will need?”

The smile fell from Drusilia’s face, "I have been in my share of battles,” the Elven woman began in response to Aphelia, “both before I learned how cruel the world can be, and since then, but now I have embarked on a personal matter that means the world to me. I will not give up my hunt, but have agreed to not stand for others to take life needlessly. The tale is one I hold close to me, but perhaps over time I will share the story of what encouraged me to take up the blades."

“And I shall look forward to it,” Aphelia attempted a reassuring smile. The woman had clearly been through much, definitely more than she herself had been through in her nineteen years. Perhaps this was even what her future had in store for her, should Matias continue to pester her onward. Not the liveliest discourse she had had the pleasure of participating in, but she supposed those days were now behind her. There were no parties or pranks to look forward to, simply genuine conversation with knightly types, and putting Finder Wyvernspur’s “blessings”--as Matias calls them--to good use.

She turned her gaze over to the Dragonborn once again, urging him to put forth his reason for joining the wardens.

((OOC: any response))

The party’s stilted conversation continued until a plate of warm bread and butter were set before them by a taller Dwarven woman with a fascinating tattoo trailing down the side of her face.

 "This ones on the house,” she spoke, with that Dwarven lilt, “enjoy some fine butter n' bread from NestleNook. Better n' any loaves you can get from inside the city I bet."

She curtsied and Aphelia nodded, used to simple gifts like these being offered to her, and reached for a piece as the woman continued.

 "I apologize for asking, but from the looks of your gear and speakin' of the Wardens, are you heading to the Rest? I may have a small favor to ask if'n you are, just to bring my brother a parcel from our father if  that's n' alright. I'll pay of course! And either way yes or no, enjoy the bread, that's a parting gift for the road." 

Aphelia’s mouth full of bread, she looked to the others to respond. Drusilia was the first to accept on their behalf, and the elated Dwarven woman raced away from the table and back just before Aphelia had swallowed her first piece of the warm loaf. As the woman and Drusilia spoke, the Dwarf began to hold out a pouch of coin, one which Aphelia was more than happy to accept, her own pockets much more bare than she was used to. However, as she reached for it, Drusilia waved it away, and the young woman instead grasped at nothing as the server withdrew and set it back in her pocket.

The young noble sat back in her seat, stuffed in all but her pockets, and looked up at the Dwarven woman again. She seemed to be preparing to make her leave, but Matias’ voice nagged as it always did in the back of her mind, berating her into compassion. Aphelia sighed and straightened her back once more, before drawing the woman’s attention, “May we also ask your name, ma’am? I am Aphelia Thorne… no relation to any other Thornes.”

((OOC: assuming she gives her name))

“Lovely. And is there any other message you would like us to give your brother when we see him? Oh, and we should probably learn what he looks like as well.” Aphelia eyed the box, her years of pranking fueling her suspicion, “Should we… practice any sort of caution when giving this to him?” She turned her brown eyes on the Dwarven woman then and smiled, “Wouldn’t want to be thrown out on the first day, would we?”

((OOC: Insight checking her answer))

“We need to get ready to join the march,” Drusilia said finally, as their conversation came to a close, “before they decide to leave without us. Are you both ready to go? Have everything you will need?”

Aphelia looked down at herself, armed and armored, as she had never been before, and smiled sardonically back at the Elven woman, “I suppose I do, let’s go join the others”

Komantaar closed his eyes in contemplation. One of his new companions had addressed him, inquiring why he had joined with the Wardens.

"This is... my life's purpose." he replied, "I was raised from a hatchling to serve as a hammer of Gond. It seems strange to me this isn't how all the young in Neverine are raised. Is it not the highest calling? To beat back the darkness and call the gods again into the world?"

He fell silent as the bread and butter were laid on the table, nodding without speaking as the waitress asked her favor. This was good, already fate was working upon them.

His other companion asked, “We need to get ready to join the march, before they decide to leave without us. Are you both ready to go? Have everything you will need?”

The dragonborn chewed his bread thoughtfully before replying. "I am ready. I have all I need. It is good to begin with full stomach."

With that, he stood from the table, ready to proceed with whatever lay in store next.