~{| Brave New World |}

O O C





Nestled in the corner of a cliff, waterfall, and river was a grand clearing amidst the jungle. This would be the future site of the city of Silverhendrix. The first citizens were fishermen and people more suited for life in the wilds of this large new land. Swiftsorrow River flows South from the spectacular waterfall in the distance. Many people were drawn to this location for the majestic view of the blue tumbling hundreds of meters off the side of the rock wall. Well connected individuals sought to claim properties of their own. In nine short years the mostly open area has grown into a sprawling city.

For the most part the wealthiest districs are closer to the docks on the West edge of Silverhendrix. Many of those buildings are partly or entirely made of stone. This is a more cutthroat section of the city yet it's the most cultured. Silverhendrix's militia headquarters, merchant's guildhall, a magically errected wizard tower, and a temple of Waukeen are located here. Those with coin to cast aside roam these streets often.

South East of this distric is the open market and religious sector. Pockets of simple blacksmiths, taverns, inns, storefronts, and streetside kiosks thrive here. Imported odds and ends are for sale. Lathander, Gond, Mask, Deneir, Selûne, Silvanus, Talos, Tempus, Oghma, and Torm have small houses of worship in this part of the city.

The third and final definitively unique piece of Silverhendrix is the mostly residential district. Nothing popular is here except for weary workers. Non perminant residents are mistrusted in this part of town given the lastest spree of trouble along the roads. A few taverns are around, perhaps a shop or two can be found, as well as the city's second magically constructed wizard tower. This is the North Eastern and East chunk of Silverhendrix.

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Your character wakes with a wax sealed letter in their posession. It is startling to know somebody has the capability to come and go as you sleep. Even more perplexing is seeing your name on the envelope. Summed up, the letter states that it's originator would like to hire your services in weeding out and quenching the source of danger along the roads. Lately civilians have been target to attack rather than strictly merchants meeting the criteria. A conference room has been reserved in the merchant's guildhall for those willing to answer the call for help. Some frivolous errands come to mind that had been planned for today. Whatever your agenda is you feel the need to leave a room so easily accessible by silent messengers and therefore also theives.

Nevarm stepped from the tavern and looked up at the sun, he pulled his hood over his head and adjusted his guantlets and then strode down the road towards the Merchant's Guildhall. He pressed through the main door and rested himself aganist a wall just inside the main room, he watched as people traversed back and forth, in and out. He watched, surveying them, picking apart their personalities and learning everything he needed to know about them. A smiled crawled across his face under his hood as someone entered the Guildhall and stepped into a room towards the back.

Guillaume knelt before the altar to Torm. His sword was strapped across his back and his head was bowed in reverence. HE tried to spend at least a few minutes a day in or by an altar if it was possible. HE was pleased to find that even in these far away lands the Guiding light of Torm was still shining bright and his guidance was offered to all who wished it. The priest of the altar was more than willing and eager to open his doors to a paladin of the faith. HE was recognized almost as soon as the door was opened and Guillaume didn't even need to say a word before he was ushered inside and given a short tour of the small chapel. It was a refreshing change from the ususal stares he recieved walking through the streets. At first he was unsure of their reasons, Hell he didn't trust anyone here either. No one taht wasn't from Bretange, the ship left days ago and as far as he knew he was the only one from his home island.
He was here for his usual morning prayer and to ask a small favour of guidance on the matter of the letter he received. The fact that he managed to steal into his locked room without waking him disturbed him. The fact taht he didn't bother to take anyhting and only leave a folded note on his chest was confusing. He assumed theives had different priorites, At least back home they treid to steal money and valuables. Different lands, different theives, different priorities he supposed.
He was even more shocked to find it was a rewuest for help. He rose and bowed once more towards the altar before pulling out the letter again. It was written in an incredibly crude version of his beloved language. But he was still able to understand its meaning. Aparantly they had heard of him. He was only here for a short while. Has word of a paladin spread this far away from home? Regardless he read through its contents once more. HE looked up at the altar and silently asked Torm if he knew what he was doing. He stuffed the letter back into his pocket and walked out into the streets and over to the adress this ....whoever it was specified.

Nera scratched her head in bewilderment as she walked down the road towards the docks, letter in hand. It was strange enough that it had been planted on her without her noticing, but just as strange were the contents. Nera wasn't by any means the most literate around, but she could certainly read her own name, and that she was being hired to do some sort of hunting or security work. Certainly, given that whoever had given her the letter must've known something about her, it was very strange that they'd be asking her to do this sort of job. Couldn't the militia or the guards or whoever do this better than her?

Still, the letter was still clearly addressed to "Nera," and she didn't know of any others. It even included her lack of a last name! Thus, after getting some directions and help with the tougher parts of the letter, she made her way towards the guildhouse. She came from the north, as she had began to wear out her welcome in the eastern parts of the city, it seemed.

After being directed there, she entered the back room. There was a human there, as well as a...almost human. The two wore vastly different garb, and the second had horns, and as her stature revealed to her, hooves. She crouched slightly to get a better look. Yep. Definitely hooves. It was hardly the first time she'd seen hooved people, but she had most certainly never seen them on a human before!

Nevarm put many of the enterpreneurs on edge. Several swift minded merchants used his presence to seal their deals. Two guards whispered to one another before one strolled over to Nevarm. "You, beastman, you appear ta be one o' this A~team them nobles are hiring. Aye then." The burly human turned with his arm and index finger extended toward a set of moderately decorated stone stairs. "Ye be needed in the purple door o' the third floor." People were able to walk five abreast on the stairs.

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Not many people were within the temple of Torm on this morning. One family of half elven and human parents were worshipping with Guillaume and two modest clergymen of Torm's service in the building. A warmth spreads through Guillaume which dissipates with his next exhale. This is a feeling the paladin has not experienced since being at home alongside his Bretange bretheren. |Sword shall serve as shield my son; Thy training tell tales through battle to come.|

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A man dressed in brilliant blue clothes, blue bandana, blue bracers, and blue hilted sword waited within the room with the purple door. At least color coded doors won't get as mixed up as numbered doors, he mulled over in his mind. He stood as the first of the letter recipients arrived. It was the female native, Nera. "Please have a seat," he said with an open palm indicating the conference table before him. It seats two at both ends and seven along either side.

(OOC: I am assuming that was indeed Torm who spoke just then)
Guillaume accepted the words stoically as Torm would have. HE breathed deep once more, it was good to be in contact with his lord even in these strange lands. Eh longed to be back home in Bretange. Patrolling the docks and safeguarding his people. It was a truly noble feeling. It took a fair amount of time for him to navigate this strange city. ONce he had to halt and attempt to use this new language he was forced to learn by order of his leige before travelling to this place. It wasn't as fluid as his tongue but it would have to do. Once proper directions were given he found the tavern in question and walked through. HE looked aorund and saw several merchants and the people they were dealing with. He saw a pair fo guards which is where he decided to go. He brandished the letter and its seal to them in the hopes they would understand. He still did not trust his mastery over his words yet.

One of the guards accepted the letter. He indicated the seal to the other one. "Bit much to drink eh?" Both tavern bouncers looked at one another and laughed. "Yer lookin' fer the guildhall 'cross the street." He handed the letter back while adding, "The big building."

He may not entirley understand this new langauge but he could tell when he was being talked to like an idiot. They were lucky Torm dissaporves of assaulting people in public. Or breaking the law in general. He nodded to each of them and walked over to this guild hall. Guild of what kind of people however he could only guess at. HE walked through the large door and looked around. This time he did not approach anyone off the bat but took ina visual to ensure he was really in the right building.

"Yes, this I know." He responded not moving his hood to make eye contact. He slid his right foot back a'little and rolled his right shoulder lightly. "Also, never call me beastman again. Do you understand." His naturally charsimatic voice calling to the man, his demand was something not be taken likely, his warning a nice gesture, he use to kill those who would offend him with such nature. He reset himself, now standing and no longer leaning. He huffed at the man and walked away heading to the purple door and stepping through to the other side, his tail just shy of being caught in the door. He approached the table, but then leaned aganist the wall near it. "Greetings." His deep voice said flowing across the room.

The foolish guard mistook Nevarm's hooves, horns, and tail for a native lineage. He fully understood once those eyes were so close while the red and black being scorned the inferior human. Shortly after the teifling went upstairs a human entered the building. Both guards had their attention at full given the sudden presence of a paladin of Torm. The second guard approached Guillaume; saying, "Welcome the The Trade Hall noble paladin. Your party awaits you on the third floor in the room behind the purple door." The guards were stationed at either end of the bottom of the stairs.

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Silverhendrix's only teifling made his presence known to the man dressed in blue and the female felinesque native. "Welcome greetings to you too. Please join your soon to be partner as we wait for the other potential employees," the man asked.