I walk into town wondering about the others who will help me on the quest. I think to myself if there will be any women, I am in the mood for a girlfriend. I look up at the sky and I see no clouds. I continue to wonder about what creatures we will meet. Will I have to deal with orcs and ogres or will I have to fight Giants. I shudder at the thought but I think of the rewards. A giants treasure is normally much greater then any of the Human-Like creatures. I laugh thinking about how I will probably die before we reach the end.

Raoul de Costa takes slow steps towards his destination, a small village far to the south, several miles away from the ruins where the supposed scorn of giants were coming from. It was quite early in the day, the morning sun had just risen, changing places with the moon, this signaled a new day. The mercenary had spent the entire night traveling, all on foot. Some people were scared to traverse around during darkness, but as long as you stuck to the roads it was not likely you would encounter anything. The most dangerous thing that he had seen on his waltz was a small pack of wolves, who crossed ahead of him. They paid him no mind as he suspected they were tracking a much more bountiful prey, also a less dangerous one, likely a deer.

He was to enter from the northern road, which would supposedly lead him to encounter his other five companions who he had received sparse information on. That wasn't like him, usually he preferred to go into these types of scenarios with as much information as possible, yet those that had supplied him with the information and mission simply told him that there was another human, two elves and two dwarves. Quite strange how the numbers worked out, two of three different races. It did not matter to him at all, he didn't hate any other race, he couldn't afford to do that in his profession. He'd work for an orc, a dwarf, elf, hell even a goblin, just as long as they promised gold. Well, maybe not a goblin, he probably wouldn't take a job offer from one of those creatures.

Raoul continued walking, going up a small hill, as soon as he reached the top, the village came into view. He stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms as his thoughts went to his new companions, who he had yet to meet. Dwarves, short but strong people, prefer large weapons with heavy armors. Elves, weaker physically yet potent magic users. Humans, what he was, sort of the best of both breeds. He had killed members of these species in his past, not that he intended to kill his companions, just that he would have to keep the thought buried deep in the back of his mind. One of them could double-cross the group, not likely but not impossible. Nothing wrong with being prepared for that scenario though.

Raoul shook his head, then started walking again, going towards the northern entrance of the village. There were said to be giants nearby, he had never himself encountered giants, but he imagined the battle would be thrilling, he just had to be quick on his feet and aim for the legs. A grounded giant is no more of a threat than a dead one. His longsword could easily tear through giant's flesh, he just needed to hit the right spots and the battle would be over before it could drag on too long. One slash to an artery in the calf, then one to the back of the head, it'd be cake, nice, tasty cake.

He reached the entrance, glancing around for any signs of life. The village seemed abandoned, it was 6am, of course some people would be sleeping, but there were always early birds who wanted to get the head start on fishing or planting crops. He normally wouldn't care for a place like this, a weak, tiny, middle of nowhere town. There was nothing here of real value, it was a simple fishing village. But the contract he was given strictly told him to come here, and apparently end some giants which were making a nuisance of themselves to the village. The sooner they'd move on to a more exciting locale, the better.

The mercenary leaned against a nearby building, right by the northern entrance. He reached into a poach on his armor, pulling out a fresh apple. He took a bite out of it, chewing loudly. He preferred meat, but he just needed a snack before battle. An apple he bought off a merchant for next to nothing would do the job. He took another bite, then used his other hand to pull his hood down, revealing his face to whoever would meet him here. Probably not the best first impression to show up hiding your head underneath a hood. He took a final bite, then tossed the core to his left, it skipping along the dirt road. He crossed his arms and waited, eager to meet his new companions. Hopefully they would be semi competent fighters, he already knew he was, but didn't know about them.

Coriana passed through the gate of the town, taking in the eerie silence that hung over the streets. She dimmed the fire burning in her palm; strange elves with burning hands often struck fear into the townsfolk. The few people left on the streets scurried out of her way or froze in awe. A common reaction, though Coriana was still discomforted by the thought that her presence and reputation alone were enough to shock a commoner. Regardless, she did her best to smile at those she passed by, for she understood the simple heartwarming power of a friendly face.

The lack of security at the gate was telling. Either the guards had abandoned their posts, or they were dead. Coriana winced slightly at the thought. The stories she had heard of giants were chilling, and though still young, Coriana was wise enough to know that the giants would be the least of the problems the land would soon face. All she had to do was ask some simple questions: why were the giants attacking? What was this ancient weapon rumored to be hidden within Kehema? There was a greater power at work here, and Coriana felt it her duty to find a swift resolution. A daunting task, but at least she wouldn't be alone.

Coriana felt her legs buckle slightly. It seemed that her natural physical strength had finally given; a full day and night's worth of walking could do that to a young elf. She stopped briefly to perform a quick transmutation of energy; she sapped her magic reserves and converted it into a more usable form. The transmutation gave her a gentle yellow glow, the physical manifestation of the draining of her magic. When she was done, she pressed on into the town, unsure of who exactly she was looking for.

From what she understood, Coriana was looking for two humans, two dwarven brothers, and another elf. Coriana groaned inwardly. Her experiences with her own kin had not been stellar since she had left the forests. Many of them were either thieves up to no good or lecherous bachelors looking for a partner for the night - or both, if she was truly unlucky. Much of it was credited to the masculine inclinations, but realistically, how often was it that a human or a dwarf would go out of their way to flirt with an elven woman? No, most of Coriana's bad experiences shared in common one thing: elven males.

But it was unprofessional and unwise for Coriana to think of such things at a time like this. She had a job to do, and she intended on doing it well. She had wandered for almost half an hour before she found herself at the riverbank. The soft sound of running water was soothing; Coriana made her way to the shoreline, wading into the river at about an ankle's depth. Sure, she was looking for some people and sure, she had more important things to be doing. But really, who would mind if she took a few minutes to relax?

Arent stirred from him slumber to see the starry night sky, to which had been his companion as he dozed, was now replaced by a clear blue sky and the sun. Unwrapping his cloak he stood from the base of the tree which had served as last night's bedroom, unlike many he had no qualms regarding sleeping outside, a childhood of doing so will do that to you. After a brief stretch, and brushing the twigs off his forest green cloak, Arent set about walking the remaining few miles into the village.

Thinking of the little he knew about his allies to be, he mulled things over, 2 humans, 2 dwarfs, 2 elf's. Humans were no trouble, after all he or she would be his kinsmen, and his experiences with dwarfs had always been filled with merriment and drinking. Elfs didn't really bother him either, expect, that whole magic business didn't feel entirely fair. By way of explanation, he could dodge arrows and parry blades, but how in hell does one go about blocking a ball of fire?

The village was now coming into view, acrest a short bump in the road, what Arent saw worried him. Surely they would arm the gates, in this time of trouble that was becoming more and more important by the day, but alas the guard posts stood empty. Pulling his hood, he slipped to the shadows behind a building, which like all others among the town was showing little or no sign of life. As he surveyed the town, a few things became clear, there was no immediate threat and no sign of any of the rest of the party.

As he slumped against a wall and began to chew on some dried rabbit meat, he thought about why he'd undertaken the quest. Ever since his fathers death he had sought adventure, and it had sought him back many times, was he determined not to die like his father, a poor nobody in a village far from anywhere? He dismissed such thoughts with a scoff and was considering catching a few hours more sleep, but something caught his eyes. An apple core, fresh by the looks of things, only just turning brown. Immediately he was on his feet and striding across the small square in the centre of the town, taking a subtle approach he leaned around a corner and saw a well armoured human, and one who oozed far more experience than a town guard.

He was considering introducing himself, but decided he would really rather catch a little more sleep. Slipping in between a narrow ally between two houses, he sat against the wall and once again wrapped his thick cloak around him, pulling his hood down to obscure the worst of the bright morning sun. Quickly he fell into a shallow slumber, and dreamt a strange dream full of dwarfs and giants.

Awakening, he saw a beautiful elf walk past glowing yellow. Wait..glowing? Was he still dreaming? He sharply slapped himself across the face, leaving his cheek a shade of crimson and then grimaced, okay, not dreaming. He got to his feet and saw she didn't approach the other human, but instead headed towards the banks of the river. He entered the tavern, which was empty, devoid of any barkeeps or punters alike. Helping himself to a mug of ale from a barrel behind the bar he left some coin on the counter and stepped into the gradually warming morning sun. The dwarfs can't have arrived yet, because surely any dwarf in their right mind would be in the tavern. For now, Arent was consent to sit outside the inn in the morning sun, he settled in for a long wait and finished off the mug of ale.

Gorrim woke up early he scratched at his beard food crumbs tumbled from his beard to the ground. He yawned and with bleary eyes he reached for his mead horn, he took a swig only to realize that it was empty. Gorrim then reached for his ruck sack to find his reserve mead, he took a swig of that to only find out that was empty too. His eyes widened in disbelief a dwarf with out mead is like a dwarf with out a beard.

He shuttered at the thought of not having his beard he stood up and dusted him self off. Gorrim looked around and he gathered his belongings, he set out down the road toward saggar village. He would meet up with Yor in the town some where, it shouldn't be to hard probably the only two dwarfs in the town. Gorrim could careless about who was in the village as long as he could get a nice reward kill some monsters and drink lots of mead.

It should be a fine adventure to tuck under his belt along with the rest. Gorrim came to the gates of the village, he looked around and noticed there were no guards. what a strange wee town even if the army were killed a militia should have been formed. He shook his head it was none of his concern, it was a humans problem.

He probably wouldn't have come if not for his father and the reward after completing the quest. Gorrim walked the village surprised by how dead it was, seeing that humans were such a lively bunch. Even though giants are attacking they shouldn't roll over so easily. If it were dwarves, dwarves wouldn't hide they would face the foes head on not giving up till the enemy was dead or they were defeated.

Gorrim found a tavern but noticed a human standing by the door, he shrugged and walked in. Gorrim was some what shocked to see the tavern empty, "by me beard not a bloody soul in this tavern. Oh the poor ale all lone not a soul to drink it", Gorrim walked to the bar and looked around " selfserve i guess". He threw some gold up on the counter and walked behind the bar, Gorrim filled his mead horn and reaserve cask and grabbed a mug and filled it. He walked back around the counter and climbed up on a bar stool and sat drinking while he waited.

Yor Amberslag was up before the dawn. He sniffled and brought a finger to close one nostril, forcefully projecting a snot rocket to the forest floor--it happened to splat quite grotesquely. His head was pounding from last nights festivities, which involved Gorrim and himself destroying three days worth of mead in a single sitting, and he did not regret that decision. He was a dwarf after all. The stout dwarf rolled his dirty sleeping bag, and slung the strings over each of his boulder-like shoulders, prepared to move on. He noted that his brother, Gorrim, had apparently left before him, towards the quaint village known as Saqqar. Yor gripped his hammer, his callused mitts made a unique noise as he squeezed on the leather that was wrapped among the hilt. So he was off, fully equipped, with everything in his possession, including a lingering hangover.

The road was cobblestone, and appeared to not be used frequently. Yor figured this was due to the village being raided by giants, those towering behemoths were only spoke of in legends, as their numbers were thought to only be miniscule. Something had urged them to put Saqqar to its doom. Something vile indeed. The air even had a lingering stench of foe and misfortune, among the moisture of the ominous mist that poured from the mountains. A slight chill bit at Yor, one he welcomed as he was a mighty dwarf, hardened against the elements of heat and cold. The mist was over his head, and quite dense, which alarmed the seasoned warrior to unseen threats. Yor raised his hammer, his right hand sliding just beneath the head, his left hand clasped at the base of the hilt, he tipped the weapon horizontally in front of him, forming a defensive posture.

The mist was thick for many footsteps, a hundred or more, and Yor was relieved to see dim torchlight in the distance. "About damned time", the dwarf spat. As he approached, a melancholy feeling blanketed his senses. A figure in a tattered cloak rested outside the gates, trembling in an eternal fear. A sound pierced through the early morning, a moan, like a witch with cancer in her belly. Saqqar was nearly a ghost town; it was a ghost town. Ransacked by giants no doubt, as several buildings were crumbled and ruined. Rats scurried a cross the cobblestone road, which snaked through the dreeary town. A small urchin boy ran from the shadows, instantly Yor pivoted on his heels, planting his feet firmly down, his thighs solid as a mighty oak. The boy, undaunted by the menacing dwarf, scooped up a rat, wincing as it bit him, and ran into the shadows, securing his meal for the night. Yor lowered his hammer, the gravity of this unfortunate villages situation bearing hard upon his heart.

King Yuri Amberslag, son of Wohrik, had chosen his two of his three sons to partake on this perilious journey, knowing Yor was more seasoned in combat and a tactician, he was chose first. Gorrim was a mighty warrior along side Yor, but was more level-headed, a better talker. He knew Yor would need his brother by his side to secure his safety, no matter how seasoned of a warrior he was. The youngest prince remained, as security, if Yor and Gorrim were lost..

Pounding footsteps signaled the arrival of Yor Amberslag to the tavern (of course that would be a dwarves first stop), and he gave a slight nod to a human standing outside the entrance, a gritted smile surfaced through his thick, black beard. The door swung open forcefully, nearly tearing from its hinges as the dwarf barreled in, a grin on his visage. "Ah! Me brudder!" he howled.

I walk into the city and I see no one is in there. I start walking in when direction when I see a building. It turns out to be a tavern and I smile. Finally, I think, I have gotten to the tavern. I open the door and laugh. I see two dwarves talking. I sneak past them and sneak into the back room. I see lots of beer and wine on each side of the wall. I grab a beer and start chuggin.

After about 5 I start to be woozy. I laugh and relise I'm drunk. I almost fall over. I skip over to the wine wall and start drinking some of that to. After about 2 I fall over and start laughing. I laid there and started thinking about how stupid I was for joining this group. I realise that the only type of lady who would be stupid enough to join this was an Elvish Healer. After that I begin to think about very, very, very skilled elvish healers.

I then think of only 2 names. Joleen the Elvish Priest and Coriana the Healer. After that I then think about how old they are. Joleen is 300 Elvish years old, while Coriana is only 80, that means the only possible choice is Coriana. I almost yell, Coriana is the nicest elf ever, I know I am way below her league in every way possible. If you did not know us Thief elves thing of her as royalty as she is the hottest elf alive, what some of us would do to even be near her is insane.

I am so mad at that moment I almost try and get back up, but then I think of something. I think that if I don't try and flirt with Coriana and I save her life a couple of times then maybe she will start to like me. I even pray to the Elvish god of Love that this plan will work. When I start feeling a bit better I get back up and set in a chair. I then think about how I will kill a giant. I think up a plan pretty quickly. I climb up the giant and carve out a little area behind the neck which should make him fall. After I do this I close my eyes and I drift off to sleep.

Raoul popped off his leaning position, having watched several people who caught his eye. An elven female passed right by him, a faint but very noticeable yellow aura following her, she paid him no mind as she moved towards the lake. He briefly watched her, figuring out where she fit in with the rest of the group. Silver haired, pretty, by the looks of it a mage. Hopefully she wasn't one of those overly cocky elves that didn't shut up about their extended lives or pointy ears. Well he had never heard one of them brag about the ears, but there was always the chance one of them would, he hoped that it wasn't this one.

He then noticed a figure appear out of the shadows, seemingly trying to pass by Raoul without notice, but Raoul had his eye on the man. No confrontation occurred as he quietly entered the tavern. Then right after him two more came along and entered the tavern. Of course they were two dwarves, brothers by the looks of it, they were probably planning to have their way with the abandoned liquor supplies. He didn't blame them, if whoever owned this tavern was stupid enough to leave the liquor unlocked, then they deserved to have some of their supply used. Just as Raoul was about to enter the tavern, he noticed a male elf quickly go in, with that he counted five new arrivals. They all fit the vague descriptions he was given.

The mercenary stood fully up, brushing himself off. He always looked presentable, but he just had to be extra sure. If he was to be working with these people for an extended period of time, then he wanted to make a good first impression. Become friends with them, watch for any weaknesses they may have. Of course he would not exploit these weaknesses, he would simply work with them to fix these weaknesses. He could not afford to have any future enemies they'd encounter use these weaknesses to slow down the mission. Raoul took several steps, then paused, rethinking his next move. He could enter the tavern, and he would do that soon, but the elven mage was all alone. Perhaps she had something interesting to say, so he walked towards her position, stopping several feet behind her. Giving her a friendly amount of space.

"That water seems pretty cold. Sort of unsettling too, considering this place is a total ghost town. I haven't seen a single soul other than our group of adventurers." Raoul said, clasping his hands behind his back.

The harrowing silence was broken by a friendly voice, "That water seems pretty cold. Sort of unsettling too, considering this place is a total ghost town. I haven't seen a single soul other than our group of adventurers." Coriana turned, assessing the man speaking to her. Human, strong stance, well equipped and in shape. Putting everything into context, the pieces quickly fit together. She smiled.

"Ah, you must be Raoul de Costa, the mercenary I've heard is partaking on this journey. I am Coriana Alaros," she spoke slowly and clearly, her voice gentle and warm. Coriana bowed her head slightly and made her way back to land. She put out the fire in her palm; no need to be waving around what could be misconceived as a potential threat. "The water is not as much a worry as the silence. No guards, no townspeople. Fear is a dangerous weapon," Coriana mused. "In all my travels I have never been met by such a silence. The giants are a great threat, indeed, but there looms a greater darkness, I fear." By now she was completely out of the water and a couple feet in front of the human. Now that she was closer to Raoul, she could size him up with greater detail.

His armor was battered and scratched; many would be put off, but in every imperfection Coriana imagined there was a story behind it. His voice and words were friendly, but his eyes seemed to be evaluating her in return. She gave another smile. "There are four men indulging themselves at the inn, presumably our companions. I am surprised; you chose to approach me instead of join them. To tell the truth, I am indulging myself in quiet pleasures just as they indulge themselves in considerably louder ones. What brings you to me? Is it my magical mystique, or the foreign beauty of my elven nature?" Coriana chuckled, signaling that she was not entirely serious in her line of questioning. She pulled her staff by its makeshift leather sling from her back. Coriana channeled some of her energy through it; the staff glowed and began to emanate heat from its crystal at the head. The warmth was comforting.

"So tell me, Raoul. Is there a greater goal, or are you simply curious? As the human saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Are you satisfied with what you received?" Her warm smile became slightly darker, though still gentle and lighthearted. To add to the drama of her practical joke, she channeled more energy into her staff. A ball of fire began to form around the head of the staff. Coriana enjoyed fire. It was her favorite element, as it held both incredibly destructive and comforting qualities.

"Or will the cat suffer a hot death this morning?"

Now that the inn had 2 dwarfs and an elf, and plenty of raucous laughter coming from it and a human and elf were in discussion by the river, Arent realised the whole party was here. Not wishing to either interrupt the drunken shenanigans occuringn in the inn, or the conversation by the river, he merely took up position in the centre of the town square and waited for the party to form.

He looked at the female elf in deep conversation with the other human, she had a fierce look in her eye and the tip of her staff was aflame, Arent wondered if the male had been foolish enough to try and court her. Then again, he couldn't blame him if he had, she really was very good looking, but Arent knew there is nothing worse than trying to court a women who does not want to be courted. He knew from experience. Attempting romance with an elf in possession of powerful magic seemed damnright stupid.

He doubted the other human would be so stupid, he looked experienced, and the look on his face didn't bear a lustful expression but one of curiosity. Turning his thoughts to the triad in the bar, he chuckled at the bangs and laughter coming from inside. He was glad dwarfs were coming along, for one they always had drink and food, and they also made fiersome allies. As did elfs, their superior speed and magical prowess made him thankful to have two making up part of their party.

Thinking, he mused that he was the only member carrying a bow, which he supposed made him at least have some importance. Thinking of the immense strength of the dwarfs and the speed and magical power of the elf's, he was almost beginning to feel redundant. Feeling suddenly determined to prove this not so, he saw a bird circling above the pair talking on the banks of the river, and within seconds he had sent an arrow loose which struck the bird in its plump body. Sending it plummeting towards the space in between his two fellow party members. "Well" he said aloud, "that should get their attention".

"What brings me to you? Curiosity I would say along with the calmness surrounding your graceful form. The others are all inside the tavern, probably flipping over tables and getting shitfaced. I don't drink myself, so I don't partake in those kinds of activities. I prefer to be clearheaded if I'm going into battle." Raoul replied as he watched the mage's staff glow. Then a ball of scorching fire formed on the staff, the mercenary's eyes watching it as it grew in energy. He had dealt with magic users before, they were trouble if they were out of stabbing range, though they were soft like sheep if you could drive a sword into them. He of course did not intend to do that to this mage in particular, she was on his side. The others probably would not look kindly upon him striking down the only magic user and only female in their traveling band.

"I hope you decide to use that to melt the giants we're supposedly going to encounter, and avoid hitting me with it. Being lit on fire isn't the most fun thing in the world, I'd like to avoid that as long as I can. I've watched friends get burned alive, terrible way to go." He said, bringing one of his hands to scratch an itch on his neck.

(Ignore this post)

Coriana gave a low chuckle, putting out the flame immediately. "Trust me when I say I'd rather avoid a battle entirely. Violence should be a last resort, if possible. Besides, while my power to destroy is great, it's so taxing. I'd much rather use my magic to bolster others' abilities, you know." From the corner of her eye, Coriana spotted a dark object plummeting towards the earth where she and Raoul stood. In an instant, Coriana whipped her staff from her side to her direct front; from the head of the staff Coriana formed a small shield, effectively catching whatever was falling towards them. The force of the impact drove Coriana's staff a couple inches into the ground.

Intrigued, Coriana released the shield and allowed the dead bird to gentle plop to the ground. She smiled, kneeling to examine the arrow firmly embedded in the bird's body. "A good shot. Impressive," Coriana looked up to Raoul before scanning their immediate surroundings for the source of the arrow. She stood up again, though was caught off guard by the amount of energy she had used recently. Coriana had used just a little bit too much to fuel her antics and games. Dizzy, she leaned slightly against her staff, placing her weight on it. Every spell took a physical toll on the user, and though she was powerful, she had been continuously casting spells for the better part of a day.

After several seconds, however, Coriana fully recovered. She continued her scan for the shooter; with yet another smile, Coriana spotted a lone human with a bow. "He must be our archer, and your kinsman, Raoul. It seems he's trying to grab our attention. Will you oblige?" Coriana began to walk away from Raoul and towards the archer, leaving the bird on the ground before him.

Gorrim sat at the bar finishing his second mug of mead. When he heard heavy foot falls outside the tavern door. Then he heard the door forcefully open, almost tearing it off the hinges. He heard "ahh me brudder" Gorrim turned and grinned, " brudder what took ye so long.

" With a grin he tossed his mead horn at Yor "hear drink the hair of the dog". Gorrim turned back around and waited for Yor to sit down with him. He then heard the door open, he turned to see a elf walk in and laugh and trying to move and hide. He watched as the elf went to the back of the tavern, Gorrim listened as the elf started drinking the stock in the back.

Gorrim hopped off the stool and landed with a thud. He walked to the backroom, Gorrim stood in the doorway watching the elf drink and fall on the floor talking to himself." when the elf was done yammering about some woman. Gorrim said in a stern voice "oi laddie don't ye go nuts on us before we even start this mission."

"if ye can"t handle yer booze I suggest ye leave the drinkin to the professionals. " He walked back out and sat back on the stool he looked at Yor "damn elves". " How was yer trip into this weird little town?"

The tavern was dimly lit, and haunting. Cobwebs clung from the ceiling, even the arachnids had abandoned this forsaken village. The air was musty, the floorboards were moist and quickly becoming moldy. They creaked as Yor Amberslag strode forth, towards his brother, Gorrim. A laugh caught his attention before he reached a stool, the footfalls of a lithe creature, an elf, were masked by his own heavy steps. The elf appeared to try and sneak past the Amberslag brothers, but his subtlety was ruined by his audible enterance. Yor raised a brow and brought his attention to a mead horn sailing through the air towards him. He snatched it and guzzled its contents with a ravenous fervor.

"Brudder, what took ye so long?" questioned Gorrim.
"The damned fog was ticker' than our mudders beard!" roared Yor. The stout dwarf plopped his rump on a stool next to Gorrim, whom jumped up and followed the elf to a room in the back. Meanwhile, Yor guzzled from the mead horn, the amber liquid trickled down his black beard. He lifted his mighty hammer and splayed it on the bar in front of him, his right hand rested on its shaft. A few minutes passed and his red headed brother, Gorrim returned, muttering something about elves before he resumed his sitting. "How was yer trip into this weird little town?" asked Gorrim.
"Well, like I said, the fog was thick, ye better believe I tread with caution. Hard tellin' if a hungry giant was lurking in dem woods. He'd discover an Amberslag dwarf is hard to chew, an even harder to digest!" Yor howled again, slamming his fist on the bar, releasing a guttural laugh that shook the taverns foundation.
"So me brudder, ye expect our companions to be of any use? I say we clear Kehema ourselves! May ant and giant a like tremble at dwarven fortitude!"

Yor felt his intoxication quickly returning, along with his menacing temper. His blood boiled and memories flowed through his mind. Memories of a whore he thought he loved. Yor was a prince, but he had cheap taste. The vision of the dwarf went red, and he knew Gorrim would be wise to distance himself. A callused hand grasped the shaft of the hammer, which was easily lifted over Yor's head and smashed into the stool to his left, shattering it easily. The momentum and force of his rage brought the dwarf to the floor, falling from his own stool in a drunken stupor. Yor roared primitively, leaning on his elbow and hopping back to his feet, and charged towards a nearby table with surprising speed. It was obliterated in seconds. This would be an interesting, yet typical everyday quest for the lively Amberslag brothers.

I wake up looking around. It sounded like something just exploded. I got back up and I walked out of the door to see 2 dwarves fighting. "What are you dwarves doing" I asked?I walked over to a table that was not broken and I sat on a chair. I laughed, pulled out a knife and yelled "If you guys want, I can help one of you!" I frown, if this is what the other team members are like then how will we even make it to Kehema.

I think about how stupid this is. Humans hate dwarves, Dwarves hate elves, Elves hate humans, why does there have to be 2 of each. I wouldn't be surprised if the quest ended with 2 Elves vs 2 humans vs 2 Dwarves. After that I hear people talking outside. I run out the door and see at least 3 people. From the looks of how tall they are there is 2 humans and 1 elf. I run close then I see there faces. A ranger, warrior, and a mage. I think about it in my head. 3 Warriors, a Ranger, A thief, and a mage. We have our team.

I run a bit closer and yell "The 2 dwarves are in the tavern, they are fighting!" I see a little creek and I run to it. I sit down and run my knife threw the water. About 1 minute later I run back to the tavern and enter to see Dwarfamania.

After seeing a panic stricken elf, who was clearly suffering the side effects of drink run out of the inn and shout something about dwarfs fighting, Arent chuckled, he had enough dwarf companions to know that interrupting one of their brawls wasn't a good idea.

Approaching the human warrior and elf mage, Arent spoke to them for the first time, trying to conceal his excitement and keep his voice level "Greetings, my name's Arent, yours are?"

Up close the Elf's beauty was even more prominent and the warriors haggard appearance made him look an even fiercer for, or worthy ally. Not that the elf didn't look worthy, on the contrary, her firework display earlier had made him even more cautious around her.

Deciding it was time to stop being so damn secretive and time to get cracking with the adventure, he lowered his hood and looked them both in the eye, awaiting a reply.

Raoul watched the female elf exact effort in putting up a shield against an object that was heading in their direction. He identified it as an arrow once he saw a bird fall from the sky with the arrow through its corpse. It was a nice shot, killed the creature right away. Raoul had knelt down, ducking as thought the shooter was aiming for him or Coriana. He had his hand on the dagger in its thigh holster.

The blade slowly came up as the mercenary armed himself in case they were under attack, which they weren't, so he stuck the knife back in carefully, trying not to poke himself with it. The mage was moving towards the source of the arrow, almost going weightlessly. He started to follow then stopped in his tracks as he heard someone shout about dwarves in a tavern, which really wasn't news. Then another figure came towards them, removing their hood, a quiver of arrows on his back.He was the one who shot the bird.It was the second human in their group, the man greeted both Coriana and Raoul.

"Raoul de Costa." He simply replied, crossing his arms as he looked at the newcomer.

"Coriana Alaros. Pleased to meet you," Coriana said with a nod. "It seems the other three members of our party have begun celebrating before working. The dwarves, I'm not so worried about. The elf..." Coriana drifted off, grimacing slightly. It was by nature that dwarves were angry and drunk. An inebriated dwarf was, in some places, more normal than a sober one. However, a drunk elf could cause much more problems than he or she was worth. Well, a drunk anything could cause more problems than they were worth.

"Perhaps we should gather our friends and allow everyone to sober up, yes? We'd be much more productive that way. Arent, Raoul, if you two could collect the dwarves? I will handle the elf." It was as much a suggestion as it was a command. Not that Coriana's patience was wearing thin; she simply believed that the priority should not be drinking and destroying the village they needed to protect. Coriana bowed slightly and walked around the two humans towards the tavern, regretting her decision with every step. She had had unpleasant experiences with drunk elves. This would likely be no different.

Coriana gripped her staff tightly, wary of any potential threats the three might pose in their drunkenness. She didn't intend to harm them, obviously; she only meant to defend herself if things got too close for comfort.