The Second Wind of Heroes (IC)

[Ontos]

Now, it looked that the city of Lorezen had rebuilt quickly, perhaps even expanded, despite its recent history. In the past, it was only known as a small town that served as a rest stop for traders between Beval, the capital of Empora, and other trade centres of the nation. However, the quick ascent and assertion of Kaganax's power soon drove the tyrant's armies to take control of Lorezen from its local, independent governors. An unknown apprentice of the dying legendary strategist, Jonathan Jackson, righteously took command against Kaganax's forces. Kaganax's army was ten times the size of Lorezen's militia. There was no doubt in anyone's mind at the time that the token force and their futile resistance would soon be nothing more than a memory. However, the apprentice who took to the fight for peace went by the name of Gladius. The First Battle of Lorezen was about to begin.

He faced an impressively armed force commanded by General Leland Connall. Connall was known for his quiet, low-key competence by almost everyone in the nation. But any sane man, including General Connall, would have thought the battle would not be eventful. However, the invading forces were annihilated after a risky operation launched by Gladius killed the general. Though the town was abandoned after their victory, it was later reoccupied by the Rebellion a few months later when they took it from the tyrant's armies after the Third Battle of Lorezen. The 'Lorezen spirit' now referred to a level of tenacity that invoked the very idea of the impossible battle that the Rebellion fought and won.

Another unnoticeable man at that time was the late Ramza Pavel. A young mercenary that was visiting Lorezen at the time, he found himself next to the soon-to-be legendary hero planning for the battle against General Connall. Though he was said to have spoken strong and forcefully against resisting Kaganax, Ramza took his place alongside the Rebellion and would fight even harder than those who believed that the gods were on their side. It was a great pity that he would never live to see the peace that the heroes would create.

Adapted from Chapter Two: The First Battle of Lorezen from "Gladius: A Hero's Tale" by Marise Fair.

-----

Zenas had never been to the city of Lorezen. The place bustled with activity and sound that hammered upon his ears like hornets, and he wondered if the undead resistance to pain also applied to headaches. He would have stayed back home, but his home-town were still wary of the living dead, and his family died in the war without the misfortune of dying to a necromancer.

Ducking past a trinket stall, Zenas went into the first shady tavern he could find. A member of the Eternal Brigade told him about 'quests', paid missions that the four guilds managed. It was a recent innovation as when the reconstruction of the Kingdom of Empora began, lots of people of all walks of life needed some form of assistance. The guilds stepped in to assist whenever they could, but much of these quests were passed onto adventurers to do. Taverns were usually the best place to hear about these quests.

He made his way to the bar counter and sat down on a stool, attracting the attention of the bartender.

"What can I get fer-" The bartender stared at Zenas's face and paused. "Eternal Brigade?"

"Eternal Brigade," Zenas repeated back at him.

"Well, ye can't be here for drink," replied the bartender. He leaned forward on the counter, looking directly into Zenas's eyes. "Had a dead girl walk in here a week ago. Girl adopted a war orphan, yet she still worked these sort of quests."

"Not here for chat. For job." The young undead boy drummed on the counter with a finger impatiently.

Wordlessly, the bartender grabbed out a piece of paper from beneath the desk and placed it on the bar counter. "It's a strange quest. The requester paid for all administrative fees."

Administrative fees meant 'quest acceptance fees'. It was a way for the guild to make money managing all these quests, since they weren't already satisfied with taking a major cut of the quest payment.

"And asked for the job to be given to the first unorthodox adventurer."

Zenas looked at the piece of paper.

Reward: 500 Platinum
Requester: Micah Gelbschild

Save a mermaid from the village of Danvers. She is about to be sacrificed for an annual celebration to bless their crops. Her name is Ariel.

Bring this mermaid to the docks of Lorezen at midnight. Try to minimise casualties if you can.

He wasn't able to read, but he saw a number '500' near the top of the sheet.

"500 gold?" he asked.

The bartender looked around furtively, and leaned forward to whisper, "500 platinum."

Zenas's somewhat unflappable mind went into overdrive. What sort of job awarded 500 platinum that he could do?! 500 platinum was enough to buy the best type of magic weapon one could find in shops! It was enough to for him to retire, though he technically did not need a significant amount of money to do so. Though there was a question he had about the job.

"What's... the job about? I can't read," he said sheepishly.

With a sigh, the bartender turned the sheet around. "Save a-"

"-mermaid from the village of Danvers," interrupted a blonde-haired young man. Standing just a few inches above Zenas's height, this thin young man with blue eyes had stepped beside Zenas, quoting the text of the paper as if from memory. "She is about to be sacrificed for an annual celebration to bless their crops. Her name is Ariel. Bring this mermaid to the docks of Lorezen at midnight."

With a wink, he said the last line half-resignedly, "Try to minimise casualties if you can." Micah extended a hand to Zenas, smiling. "My name is Micah Gelbschild. I'll be waiting for your success."

[WoodKerne]

An eruption of laughter came from the back of the tavern. An incredibly tall, red-haired man was stooped over the table surrounded by a large group of middle aged men. His head was knocked back, laughing. He was in the middle of telling a "funny" story to his gang of new found "friends".

He excused himself and stumbled over to the counter. He had clearly had too much to drink. He banged his head against a lantern and a supporting beam on his way over. He leaned on the counter.

"Another round for all my friends at the table!"

The men at the back roared with delight as he spoke. Clearly they were more interested in the free drinks than the budding friendship.

The bartender raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He started to pour the drinks. "You know this is going to cost you? You've been buying rounds since 12 last night! Do you even know what time it is?"

The man smiled and closed his eyes "That doesn't matter little one. Only the best for my friends" As he said this he spun around and waved to the men, they all grinned and raised their empty mugs.

The bartender made conversation as he stacked glasses of ale onto a tray "Whats a D'iasc doing out of the mountains anyway? I thought you guys felt all superior and hated human civilization?"

"Not me friend, I don't hate anything! Espically a race that can make a drink as good as this! Whats it called again?" He answered his own question "Mead! Nothing like this in Cuimhne I'll tell you that! I left, I want to see the world! Not be stuck in some hillside!" He became quiet and mumbled to himself " Uhhh. Whats that word......uhhh"

His face lit up again "Travel!" as he said this he swayed his hand with a mug still gripped. He spilled ale all over Zenas, who was sitting next to him.

The D'iasc bent over and looked at him, "Oh sorry about that friend. I'll make it up to you, whats your drink?" He examined Zenas closer and stepped back

"Whoa, buddy, you don't look too good. You sick?"

[Memoir]

Elliot soon became accustomed to faking a good laugh in the tavern. And so he should – he had been doing it since 7:30am. All for the very good rewards of a constant stream of free drinks.

He had been up early to try and scout out a few lucky deals in and around town, and found this boisterous fellow already inside the tavern, just handing out free tabs to anyone who would listen to his stories. Which wasn’t too hard – and after all, how many times a year did an opportunity like this come along?

He looked very foreign. He mentioned his name a couple of times to his “friends”, but Elliot never caught it. The guy looked a little bit different from a normal human… but Elliot hardly batted an eyelid at it. After all, he had been mistaken many times for a race other than human…

It was only when the barkeeper mentioned something about the D'iasc that Elliot perked up. Now that was a rare occurrence indeed. He took the time to inspect his drinks dispenser a little closer – very young, very fresh looking. Very naïve, Very easy to manipulate. Very drunk. And lots and lots of free flowing cash. Shouldn’t his race be a little more stuck up? Proud? Or maybe it was all just the rumours that came with the fairy tales?

Elliot would have observed for a little longer, except the D’iasc had already drenched another person with his beverage. Elliot estimated that after a short conversation, big tall guy might see that as a cue to leave the building. Quick as a fox, he slid up behind him and patted him on the back, just in time to hear the last words of his dialogue.

“Why, no no no!” Elliot said in a friendly, but hushed tone. “Of course he isn’t sick! You can’t go around just simply asking if another person is sick based on their appearance – look how straight he sits at the table! Look at that beautifully healthy blue glint in his eye – mind you, these are none of the traits of a sick man!” Truth be told, Elliot had no idea why this persons skin was... well… rather dead looking. He might have even asked the same question, had the circumstances been different.

“Now, I do apologise…” He carried on, but to the ‘sick’ kid this time. “My good friend here is a lively soul, incredible chap – but do forgive him, he’s slightly new to the area and the culture. I hope you are not offended by him?” Elliot’s eyes wandered a little – a habit he had, trying to take in all of his surroundings at once whilst holding a conversation at the same time. Terrible habit. And it was then that the words ‘500 Platinum’ had glinted like gold in a coal mine on top of a sheet of paper, which looked all too similar to a job application. Well… the luck looked like it was just rolling in today. “…Say, uh… what is your name and occupation, if you don’t mine me asking?”

[Ontos]

Zenas's eyes looked upwards as he stared at a single drop of water hanging from a hair strand. He heard apologies coming from behind him, and turned around to look at Tadhg, but saw only deer fur at his eye level. He looked upwards, and his eyes went wide at the sight of the giant D'iasc's face. What sort of man, or creature, stood so high above his own head and would spill some sort of alcoholic liquid on him? Furthermore, this man had a youthful face not even resembling any humans he saw close to his size.

"Whoa, buddy, you don't look too good. You sick?" the giant asked, taking a single look at his face and stepping back, surprised. Did this man never see the undead before, Zenas wondered. To his relief, the giant did not immediately go 'DIE UNHOLY CREATURE!' or something along those lines. The Eternal Brigade certainly did their job, convincing the world that the undead could be just as civilised as the rest of the world.

Another man appeared beside Zenas, apologising even more for the giant's behaviour. However, his looks and face drew Zenas's attention more than his words. White hair, red eyes and skin even lighter than his own, he had heard of some sort of people that had this sort of looks, and they usually drank the blood of others and burned in sunlight. Granted, Zenas did not have any blood, but that still made him nervous nonetheless. This other man looked interested in the sheet of paper, and Zenas won

“…Say, uh… what is your name and occupation, if you don’t mine me asking?”

"Zenas Sirach. An archer," replied Zenas monotonously. He wasn't going to add 'undead' next to anything he described about himself. Not when he wanted that label to be temporary.

Micah, still seated right next to Zenas, grinned at the pair that made themselves noticed next to the undead young man. "Micah Gelbschild. And I think you can help Zenas with this little job."

He slid the paper with a finger and lifted it off the table, almost shoving into the face of Elliot. He would have shoved it into Tadhg's face, if he could reach it while sitting down. "Mermaid needs rescuing. Lots of money on the line. What do you think, D'iasc and the other guy who's definitely not a vampire?"

[WoodKerne]

The D'iasc extended his massive hand. "My names Tadhg." He suddenly grabbed Elliot by the shoulder and pulled him close. The albino was clearly shocked and uncomfortable from the sudden act of affection but he tried his best not to grimace. "Thanks for the offer Micah. Sounds fun and all, but me and my buddy here have a couple more.." He abruptly stoped and properly examined Elliot for the first time. His face quickly turned pale and showed an expression of pure terror.

"D-Di-Did you say va-vampire?" Micah's words had only sunk in. Before anyone had a chance to reassure Tadhg, he had already leaped several feet back. Knocking a table over and smashing a few glasses

He began quickly spinning around reaching behind him, desperately fumbling for his rucksack. He threw it onto the ground and fells to his knees to reach inside.

The music has stopped and nearly everyone is now staring at him, half confused and half shocked. In his frantic searching he begins to quickly mumble to himself. "Oh no oh no oh no...I never should of left the tribe...oh no oh no oh no... this is what they warned about...i knew this would happen..... come on! where is it?..."

Numerous odds and ends were flung out of his backpack including various hammers and plants. His face lit up for a split second as he pulled out a small, wooden cylinder. Tadhg stood up and began to chant in ancient D'iasc. "Ar an níl gan bhútashach. Ar an níl gan bhútashach" As he continued the psalm he unscrewed the top of the wooden container and began to rub brown powder between his fingers, peppering the ground with its dust. With his other hand he began to stroke an antler attached to his waist.

This continued for several seconds before he opens his eyes and took a deep breath of relief. Looking around the room he notices the silent, astonished faces of the crowd. He smiled sheepishly and eyed the door. "I... I think I better leave."

As Tadgh approached the door the bartender breaks the awkward silence "Not so fast tall guy, after all those drinks? and the damage to my property? Thats going to cost you 50 gold." The D'iasc spun around, instantly sobered by his words. He had a grand total of 12 silver in his possesion. There was only one way to make that kind of money, if he didn't want to patch chairs and undent longswords for the rest of his life. He walked back to the counter. The music began again and people started to talk once more.

Tadhg pulled the small piece of paper from Elliot, who was still frozen in his pose since the mayhem had began. Tadhg glanced at it before turning to face Micah. "I guess I'm going to save a mermaid."

Micah grinned at this and clasped his hands together. "Wonderful, it seems were making quite a ragtag group here."

[Clay]

John finished placing a miscellaneous parts and tools in a small sack, he had spent the morning toiling away at his work again. The sun was shining fiercely through his window and the incessant hammering of the blacksmith down the street became unbearable, it was time to eat. He slung the bag over his back and strapped on his bracer, checking to make sure it wasn't damaged in any way. Next he looked to his sword, probably the most mundane looking weapon he had, he deftly strapped it to his waist and slung his gun in its holster. He was ready for another day, his stay in Lorezen had been fruitful but he yearned for adventure, and needed the gold that would come of it. On his way out the door John grabbed his duster and proceeded downstairs to the main hall of the tavern. His first goal for the day was to check in with the bartender and see if he had any quest, and to get a much needed drink.

John was still sliding on his duster when he approached the bar, only to see a rag tag group of adventurers gathered already. Eying the group has he walked up john ordered a bowl of stew and a drink before taking a seat closest to the group.

"Mermaid needs rescuing. Lots of money on the line. What do you think, D'iasc and the other guy who's definitely not a vampire?"

Johns eyes shot up when he heard those words and was completely caught off guard by the events that followed. This big fellow made quite a scene at the mention of a vampire, but John decided to stifle his laughter in the bowl of stew in front of him.

"Wonderful, it seems were making quite a ragtag group here."

"Aye! It so seems..."
Johns voice, gruff from the morning and lack of use, broke into the conversation. Without missing a beat He stood up and performed a practiced bow,

"Johnathan Cole, adventurer and engineer." He said the last part brandishing his bracer, smiling.

"500 Platinum for a simple rescue sounds a bit shady, no? I think it would be better for both of us if we went at this together..." John knew from experience things that sounded too good always were, there were no dragons to fight or undead hordes anywhere near Lorezen, 500 Platinum was simply too much.

"Our skills together will give us the best chance of surviving whatever surprises come our way unscathed... So what do you say, room for another?"

[Fabricant451]

Coming to the tavern had been a stupid idea. Sitting in the back, alone, away from where the rather loud and rather tall man had been laughing like a court jester gone mad, was the cloaked figure belonging to Nowe Montford. In front of her, long since warmed, was the mug of drink she had ordered to maintain appearances. Drinking was dangerous in a public place, she would have to remove the hood and that was simply out of the question. In her hands was a leather-bound tome. The intention was to read it in silence but Nowe had underestimated the silence one would find in a tavern. Stupid mistake. Never again.

The tome was open but Nowe had since abandoned hope of reading any further, not with the laughing giant doing his damnedest to be heard in every corner. Nowe slammed the tome shut, wrapping it with a bit of string, and placed it into the sack at her feet. This was a moderately sized town, surely they had better places for a bit of light reading; perhaps a cemetery where none would disturb other than still grieving widows. And those were easy enough to ignore.

Nowe stood up, her dark cloak allowing her to blend with the shadows along the walls, and quickly looked for the quickest path to the exit. She didn't get very far as her eyes spotted a new customer; and he was intriguing indeed. He certainly, from the profile she could see at her angle, looked a spry sort, but it was the color of his hair that caught her attention. She propped herself against a wall, obscured by the casted shadow, and observed.

Her eyes, hidden behind the hood, perked up as she heard the bartender mention the Eternal Brigade. Nowe could hardly believe it, but the young traveler didn't seem to deny it. Quickly she sunk into a seat at a nearby table, her gaze focused on the person at the bar. If only she had brought her tools, if only she could just get a bit of his fluids or at least a strand of hair. The chance was too perfect, she stuck out in public places but in a tavern and with a loud giant of a man acting as a distraction, surely she could sneak up to him, make a small cut and take just a drop. Her plan set, Nowe reached into the waist of her cloak and pulled out a small knife. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood...just as the table was knocked over in front of her. That damned loudmouth! Nowe froze, knife still in hand, what would she do now? Leave it to an oaf to complicate things. Nowe stood still as if paralyzed, watching the goings-on happening at the front of the bar but not truly seeing it. But worst of all, her cloak now had the smell of mead. She would have to wash it.

[Memoir]

Oh yea, the vampire line. Elliot had almost forgotten that one.

Contact lenses. Someone needs to invent coloured contact lenses, and possibly a way to tan yourself out in the sun without burning yourself to a crisp in the process. Heck, someone needs to invent some magical DNA alteration magic which has the ability to turn you into a normal person. Maybe in some other universe or dimesion, these things had already been invented by some genius...

“I… I’m not a vampire, I promise you! Uh… Tadhg!” Elliot said in a frantic manner. It sure was a good thing Tadhg had mentioned his name earlier, otherwise the “good friend” plot would have gone to shambles. Trying to be helpful, Elliot scurried around the bar, collecting up all the strange assortment of things that his new best friend was throwing out his luggage while he was obviously in search for something. However, when Elliot picked up a small variation of a cactus plant, he wondered what on Earth Tadhg had planned for his travels.

“This pale skin means that I’m really sensitive to the sun, and I can’t really be outside too long or the sun will burn me…” Elliot tried to explain, in between the lines of the D’iasc’s presumed native ritual. “…but that’s not because I’m a vampire!” Maybe this incantation was a curse. Or worse yet, an offensive magic attack. And Elliot’s broadsword was about a meter away, on the other side of the bar table, just out of reach….

A wave of relief washed over him when the chanting stopped. The same couldn’t really have been said for Tadhg, however, as he now became the bar’s centre of attention (that is, if he wasn’t before.) and was ordered to pay a hefty fine. “Hey, it’s not so bad!” He said, whilst trying to hand back Tadgh’s weird travel luggage. “Rescue a mermaid from being sacrificed in a bloody and senseless backwards village society, bring her back down here, dump her on the docks so she can swim to home and freedom and glory and everyone goes home rich and happy. This is going to be a perfect story to tell your folks back home too!"

Elliot noticed that quite a unique group of people were also around them at this point in time – and he hadn’t been this excited in years. Although the first thought in his mind was the fact that the reward money was going to have to be split between more people, Jonathan definitely made a good point about the reward being abnormally high. “Look around Tadhg, we’ve got the best team around here too – There’s the perfectly healthy archer, the cool engineer up there (…Engineer? What on earth is an engineer? Is that giant metallic bracelet an accessory? Could he blow us all up here with it, right this instant?) And the rogue!”

Elliot said rogue, because the girl was holding a knife out in the open, frozen in some sort of half attacking stance. He had spun round to her direction as he had said that line, and at first, had believed that the small girl (or boy… couldn’t exactly tell with the person’s cloak covering the entire frame) had walked up to the group with a knife in hand to honourably state although young, her profound abilities in her chosen discipline of an assassin, or close combat agility based warrior, made her an excellent fighter in addition to any group and to request that she too, could join the troupe. Much like how Jonathan did it. On closer inspection and on second thoughts: this was probably not the case. Ah well, the more the merrier.

“Uh… yes, you, little one! You may not have asked yet, but of course, you are accepted to join the us adventurers! Since a few of the others have already introduced themselves – I’m Elliot, the vampire warrior!” He said, finally reaching his still-sheathed sword and raised it right in front of him. “Wait, I mean… the not-vampire warrior…”

[Thoughtless]

Thenellus hated taverns. They smelled of sweat and vomit, they were loud and rowdy, and were full of people willfully poisoning themselves with alcohol not even fit to clean a wound with. But the rooms above were cheap, and the food was hot, and sometimes Thenellus heard tell of some people in need that he could go help. Thenellus was seated at the bar, because it was at once the most and least private place to be. He was enjoying a meal of hot stew and freshly baked bread, and drinking copious amounts of water. A group towards the back of the bar was being incredibly loud and obnoxious, one person in particular. He was an incredibly tall red-haired fellow. A D'iasc, Thenellus presumed. It was odd though, D'iasc rarely travelled from their own territories except for trade, and never alone.

The D'iasc eventually wandered up to the bar to grab some more drink, accidental spilling some of it on a man at the bar, just a few seats down from Thenellus. His quick apology was followed by an inquiry into the man's health, apparently sparked by his appearance. That made Thenellus interested enough to ignore his food for the moment and look. He got a look at the man the D'iasc had spilled his drink upon, and he did indeed look quite ill. However, Thenellus was quick to realize that this man's condition was nothing he could help with at present. It isn't as if he could sense the man was undead —he possessed no such ability— however, the risen members of the Eternal Brigade have a certain look about them. Its a look you don't forget after seeing it once.

Now that his attention as pointed that way, Thenellus began to catch parts of the conversation as more people began to join in. Something about a mermaid, and 500 platinum. Although he had no interest in the money, the bit about the mermaid intrigued Thenellus. He had never seen a real one, in fact he wasn't even sure they existed. Thenellus got up from his seat, white cloak sweeping off the stool as he stood, and began to approach the little group that was forming around the undead man. "A quest to save a mermaid, huh? I'm not quite the adventuring type, but I think I could be of some use to you if you'll have me along. My name is Thenellus, I'm a healer. A decent one, if I may say so myself."

[Fabricant451]

The knife! The blasted knife was still in her hands and now he had the attention of another. Quickly she slipped the knife back onto her waist, no point in wielding it now that it was known she was armed, relatively speaking. Behind the hood, Nowe's eyes were scrunched in anger and he lips were pursed. The oddly pale idiot had quite some nerve. Nowe brushed the droplets of mead from her cloak, not wanting it to stain worse than it already was going to.

"I am not a thieving, murderous rogue, you...white...haired...white-haired...p...peasant," she said, her voice clear despite her face being covered and her cheeks going slightly red out of embarrassment for that awful attempt at insulting the man, "And don't call me little one!" Nowe was not truly angered though she was rapidly speeding past annoyed.

"I have no interest in your stupid adventure," she continued, stepping closer to the group, "You morons are bound to end up as nothing more than a body in the dirt." She stuck her left hand into the wasitline of her clothing as she took another step closer; she shot a quick glance towards the member of the Eternal Brigade as she stepped. "I say let the stupid mermaid die," the words from the one calling himself a healer confirmed to Nowe the asinine nature of the adventure. Again she took another step, mindful of the gazes no doubt being thrown her way.

"All I care about," quickly she pulled another knife out of her waist and pointed it towards the sickly looking fellow at the bar, "Is him. You!" she addressed him, "I am taking a portion of your blood or what remains of it. And a lock of your hair. You will give them to me willingly or I will use force." With her left hand holding a knife towards him, her right hand was behind her back, rustling around in her sack.