The everlasting war between between the gods let people suffer for centuries. Hordes of monsters, mindless minions, dragons and many other of the most horibble creatures in existence was only part of the chaotic sight that one could see through the devastated land of Rozerfast. What saved the world from its impending doom was the intervention of Bezel, the God of Balance, who sacrificed his life, sealing the Gods' powers into his own heart, then locking it away.

Prosperity followed the end of the war, but it was short-lived. Half a century later, the dark wizard, Mongrel, released the Gods' powers once again, signaling the beginning of a new war. The only hope humanity has, is to retrieve Bezel's heart and resurrect him in order to stop the war.

Many warriors tried to fulfill this quest, but to no avail. People started to wonder if there was any chance of survival at all. Would there be someone to save the world, or the end was imminent? Hidden in the forest, there is the small town of Grevstone, a place where many warriors rest between the travels, sometime even deciding to spend the rest of their lives there. In the small, smelly inn of the town, you can find some of the bravest warriors, sorcerors with untapped potential, young street thieves and even people who aspire to be heroes. This is where a heroic journey begins and a legend is born....

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Gregor, the fat, scarred inn keeper had quite the unusual guests today. Apart from the usual mercenaries, who regurarly come and drink as far as their pockets allow, there were some peculiar figures visiting the inn today. Among them was a dirty, heavy-odored individual with ragged clothes, accompanied by what appeared to be an eagle, making it a sight unique to the common man.

Another mysterious figure was that of a heavily-armored knight with a strange kind of axe, that gave a terrifying aura around, something that could be easily be dedcuced from the fact that most other customers avoided sitting in a table near him.

What balanced the gruesome image of drunken men and mysterious strangers was the existence of a young woman, stranger to the village too, but with an exotic beauty he had never witnessed before. Although the center of attention to many of the drunkards in the inn, she seemed to not be afraid or even bother, giving the chills to the inn keeper who was anxiously messing his beard.

The only thing that he considered ordinary, in contrast to all the newcomers in Rozerfast, was Raa Tel'Nimras, or "little Raa" as he was calling him, the half-orc child who grew up in the village, aspiring to be a hero. The large figure or Raa reassured Gregor, because he knew that the young man would not let anyone disrupt the tranquillity of their village, a thing rare because of the new War of the Gods. The thoughts of Gregor were interrupted by the melody of a travelling bard's harp, who sang the following song:

"To find treasure, power, fame,
Then come on forth and state your name,
For I will show you what you seek,
In a path bloody and bleak.

Make your wish your utmost goal,
It's up to you to make the call,
To escape fate's merciless claws,
The mountain Vargr you shall cross!"

Briam stood at a table, his axe leaning against a nearby beam. While he would have much rather sat down, considering how uncomfortably heavy his bulky armor was, he'd recently found out that the seats weren't quite as durable as what they were supporting. Nonetheless, Briam didn't mind too much about the having-to-pay-for-the-chair issue nor the lack-of-seating situation, as long as he could still get a glass of whatever(often just fruit juice; Briam surprisingly has the worst tolerance to the other stuff), he was fine.

As Briam sipped his fruity beverage, he heard a song start up. He didn't pay attention to most of it, but tuned in at the last two lines.
"Hmm," Briam thought to himself. "This sounds dangerous and foreboding!" But then, Briam wasn't necessarily a stranger to danger. He was also wondered what Mount Vargr looked like; perhaps it looked nice? Setting his glass down, Briam announced, "I accept thy quest, bard!" Grabbing his axe's handle, he looked around and asked, "Who shall join me?"

InfernoBlaze said
The thoughts of Gregor were interrupted by the melody of a travelling bard's harp, who sang the following song:"To find treasure, power, fame,Then come on forth and state your name,For I will show you what you seek,In a path bloody and bleak.Make your wish your utmost goal,It's up to you to make the call,To escape fate's merciless claws,The mountain Vargr you shall cross!"

As Veyas entered, those were the first things that crossed his ears. He kept his Eagle, Milo calm, he didn't much like closed spaces like this. After eventually letting Milo out, Veyas moved steadily to the musical man. A music man was not a normal sight for Veyas, nor was a forboding message within a song. "Great man of music, what do you tell of?"

Before the man could answer there was yelling from nearby, a man in heavy armour and an odd weapon, axe but not really axe at the same time. Veyas's gruff voice rose, "I of the forest joins that of the future on thy quest! Any more taking danger!?"

Kuzu was siting happily listening to the music, sipping a glass of fine wine.she looked to be a normal beautiful young woman. As she sipped her wine shouting started making her mad. But once the word "quest" popped up she quickly smiled. She thought to herself, quest means money, money is alway good. She quietly got up and behind Briam, "I'll join you on this quest, this should be interesting." She spoke grinning.

What a day. First off, it was the end of the week so his great godmother came to visit him, too bad she always did it at the end of the week when he was dead tired. ~Maybe she does it just so she can yell at me for being so tired.~ He mentally mused over his lessons as he ached with his back to the fire and a bucket with a ladle to keep his shirt soaked with water while the heat soaked into his muscles.

As much as he tried to ignore everything to relax, he couldn't keep his eyes off of the new patrons to the inn. Part of his instinct was to protect the people in the room from themselves and each other as he tried to look away but eyes always drawn to those three. The woman was breathtaking and he could feel a primal stir of all the men in the room as well as him, but such lust is what his ancestors weakness claimed was the downfall of the bloodline. The man in armor with the otherworldly axe was not alone as there was another with an axe that seemed to not belong in this village. The ragged man with the wolf reminded him of the druids of his mother's circle and now his cousin who slipped into the building.

While his eyes searched and his body ached, his ears were open to listen to the song of the bard. It called to him, its words evoked vigor from his limbs to shake off the weary of a weeks work with promises of more than roaming the village and woods for work. It made his chest tight over his birthmark as if the goddess herself was demanding his attention. Hearing others answer the call came the gruff voice of his aunts son. "I of the forest joins that of the future on thy quest! Any more taking danger!?"

"Would my little kin travel without me?"

Raa's voice was deep and warm, like the westward facing cavern just after sunset where the stones held the last of the fire's embrace. He didn't try to speak too much or generally bring too much attention to himself, he let his actions speak of his devotion. But sadly at the moment his body was devoted to removing a knot in his right shoulder blade as he put his back into the heart and ground at the cobblestones like a bear would scratch back upon an oak.

Raa's statement was what made Gregor understand that the dirty, ragged man was Veyas, his cousin, a young man who had left the village some time ago to live in the wilderness. The changes he witnessed were enormous, explaining the fact that he couldn't recognise him. The youngsters' amazement to the bard's story made the aged inn keeper smile with their vigor and energy, even though it was just a song created for amusement, or so he thought.

On the other hand the mercenaries and the other warriors gathered in the inn started laughing ironically to the response of the small group of strangers and the two cousins.

"Get out of here! This isn't the place for people who believe in fairytales!" were the words of one of one of the more drunk mercenaries, who didn't hesitate to throw his mug of ale to the small group, luckily hitting the heavily-armored man, thus not hurting any of them.

The man's actions were followed by more mugs, plates, chairs and other object, turning the not-so-quiet inn into a small battlefield. The bard swiftly approached the group interested in the story and handed over a letter to Vreyas, in which he wrote:

"I am glad that you followed your hearts and saw further than all the others. If you are not afraid of death and want to achieve greatness, find me at the rock bridge out of the city. There, I will give you the directions you seek. Bezel's oracle, Erwin."

"Ah, this is good!" Brian laughed heartily as others joined. Shortly after, however, a rather rude fellow threw his glass at Briam. After wiping the shards of glass off of his helmet and shoulder, Briam leaned towards the lady next to him and said quietly, "I'm glad he's not going. Doesn't seem very bright to be picking fights with heavily armed axe-men." Straightening up, Briam went to go greet the other members before remembering that he forgot something other than his axe.

"Ach, where are my manners!" Brain said, turning back to her. As he extended his hand, Briam introduced himself. "The name's Briam, Briam Dorman."

Kuzu smiled before taking his hand, "Kuzu Hikairi, it is very nice to be joining you. I must agree with you about the sour puss." She said smiling before following him to meet the other group members.

Treavor listened to the group intently as they spoke about some lost treasure in the mountains, remembering that mountains typically held some sort of magical resonance deep within. It was this same resonance that dwarves utilized in their great cavern cities and which drew dragons to such places. As an artificier he could see the pattern of magic flowing through the world, enjoying the prospect of studying it further and seeing a bit of adventure along the way. However, the drunk merc was starting to grate on his nerves. "Hey buddy! Care to keep it down? Some of us are enjoying a good tale here! You wanna fight so bad I got my dog outside. Would need to tie up one of his legs but should be a semi even fight." The artificier got up and walked to the group, a strange crossbow across his back and a large hand and a half sword at his waist. Attached to his left arm seemed to be like a barrel with crystals floating around it and his right was machine entirely. He raised his artificial hand to shake. "Name's Treavor by the way. Couldn't help but overhear your're heading to that mountain. Wouldn't mind getting a shot at some of that treasure. Even not, mountains in folk tales tend to have an interesting magical pattern I can study."

Gregor was a casual witness of fights in the inn, so the view of a mess being made inside was not a first for him. What worried him was that the youngsters might get hurt. He was specifically worried about Raa's and Vreyas, who were the village's residents, but couldn't help but worry about the others too. He hoped that the heavy-armored knight would protect them, sharing their thirst for adventure.

Erwin passed the note and then just vanished, leaving the small group, which a rather strange fellow joined, a half-elf with mechanical parts attached. Her vanishing was followed by a mass of mercenaries and warriors surrounding the small group, led by the man who the half-elf talked to rudely, as he claimed.

"I dislike half-elves. But what I dislike more are half-elves with a sharp tongue! So don't get mad at us for what we are about to do to you and the group you joined!" he said followed by the loud screams of the other mercenaries.

Treavor smirked and turned to the merc once again. "Oh? One of those biggots I see. Well, I'll be sure to tell my dog where to bite." He brought a hand up to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, soon followed by the sound of strange barks and metallic grinding coming from the door as a large imposing iron defender ran to his master. Rubbing his pet with his left arm and drawing his bastard sword almost effortlessly with his mechanized right arm and pointing to the head merc. "Go get the ball boy!" A wide grin crossed his lips as he knew just how crazy things were about to get, relishing the opportunity to mix things up as his rune arm began to hum with power and charge for a strong burst of magic.

Strolling casually between the others and the bulk of the loud crowd, Briam sized up the other members in his head. "We've got a wolf-cloak wizard who could go for a sammich or two, a lady from somewhere with a sword, and this barrel-bodied bloke that's somehow related to that lanky fellow." A cup shattered on his back. "I suppose we're both quite sturdy," he mumbled to himself. A stool leg ricocheted off his helmet as he turned to look at the source of a sharp whistle.

Briam noticed its unique appearance; he was just more interested in the man's arm, which began to glow from... Runes? Briam wasn't good at magic, so he didn't know. Nonetheless, he figured that he should go help whoever the gent was. "Hello, sir," he said to the man, who at a closer look, was actually half-elf and not just a really fit old man. "I am Briam Dorman, ex-knight, and you're agitating quite the ant hill over here."

He knew he didn't need to point out the fact that the half-elf was annoying them. He just did it to compare them to ants.

Although Briam had little doubt that the mechanical dog alone could tear the mercs apart, he still offered, "Would you like some help squashing them?" Even though it would be much easier to just explode them with the cannon, he thought that there was no reason to damage the (most likely)legitimate establishment.

Treavor smirked back at Briam and nodded. "Nice to meet someone who isn't a total bigot. Feel free to let off some steam. Hope you don't mind if I take the big tough stupid one do you? I think it'll be a more satisfying fight for me than it would for you." Of course he was saying all this out loud so everyone, the big tough and stupid ringleader included. Of course, his Iron Defender would bark out and charge as soon as they made a move so he wan't concerned about being snuck up on.