The midnight sky was a clear canopy of stars, twinkling peacefully o'er the town of Bastille, a major hub of information and trade. In the first Inn at the west entrance of the town, labeled with an engraved sign: "The Honeyden", occupants inside were having the night of their life. Live music drifted down from the second floor in the balcony over-viewing the dance floor. Elves and humans alike were in happy company, and everyone was talking about the new posters up in the Inn. Good money was hard to come by these days, people didn't have as much as they used to, and the taxes were expensive.
It was the sum of money that drew them in at first, but then they read it. A lot of men and woman turned away, knowing they weren't adequate for what the poster asked. It read in elegant cursive with a large title:
WARRIORS NEEDED
There are problems that tie us all together. Most prominent of these is money, and I can solve that. Easily. But I have a problem too, and if you can't tie with this, then neither can you tie with the sum. At the request of my sponsor, Baronet DuReigh, I am looking for a few exceptionally talented individuals who have a taste for adventure.
They must be brave, they must be able to defend themselves against the great beasts outside our cities, and they must have a knack for navigating bobby-trapped crypts. Most importantly, they must be able to defeat me in battle. Which is most trying of them all since I have mastered certain classes of magic, have had experience in war, and am very proficient with a blade. I am serious when I say I only want the best of the best, and I'll settle for nothing less.
We will be exploring the land in search of the Rubylust Relic. Its an ancient relic dating back 800 years, and is said to hold unique, powerful magic. I know the details of its possible location, but I will divulge that after you prove yourself.
Meet me at the mountain shrine outside Bastille, north of the western entrance. Be ready for an adventure filled with wealth and glory, and be ready to prove your mettle.
To adventure!
-- Evelyn Keove
Battle Mage of Althaes, Ancient Forest of the Wood Elves.
Reward: 20,000 Gold Pieces.
PS. That could buy you four entire houses.
A well-armored man with a chiselled face, loose blond locks and a mace strapped to his back finished reading the poster. He crossed his muscled arms over his steel chest, leaning to the man standing to his left. His voice was low and gruff. "Is it true what they say, that this is the same Mage who turned the tide in the battle between orcs and elves along the Reliene Coast half a year ago?"
The man nodded back. "Yes, I heard she woke a dragon from its lair and had it follow her to the battle field, and got it mad enough to start burning up the place. There were casualties on both sides from that, but using the dragon to their advantage allowed them to drive the Orcs into the ocean. The sands were said to have been soaked in dark crimson."
The blond-haired warrior took this information in, grinding his teeth. His eyebrows shot up when he tried imagining blood-soaked sands. After some careful deliberation, he turned back to the poster.
"This Evelyn sounds like a fine Mage. I will journey with her, in the name of gems and prizes!" He growled, downing the rest of his ale and slamming it on the counter.
"What makes you think you're strong enough, Mattien Arior? You're a simple boy of a Breton farmer." A drunk stood up behind him, speaking in a slurred speech. "I've never seen you do anything impressive except all the girls in Bastille's slums!"
Mattien didn't bother giving the local a glance, even when he stood and shuffled toward him. The drunk was pissed.
"Hey! Boy!" He yanked the only thing that could give him a reaction — Mattien's hair. "I'm talking to you, you little s-"
A swift punch slammed into the drunk's open mouth, and he toppled back. Mattien looked disgusted, watching as the man struggled to stand. "No one touches the hair, Argorn. I don't know where your pissy hands have been."
Argorn picked up a half-empty mug of ale, tossed it back, and threw it at Mattien. As he dodged, Argorn charged him again with his fists raised. With a single side-sweep Mattien moved out of his reach, picked him up, and used Argorn's momentum to smash him into a table. Drinks and chairs went everywhere, and the table collapsed in a clatter of wood.
Argorn moaned, finally laying still. Mattien shook his head, smiling at the Inn keeper. He tossed a couple extra coins on the counter. "Sorry about that."
Evelyn Keove
The young elf stood casually against the guard rail of the second floor in the Honeyden, adjacent to the live music of lutes and drums. She had silver hair, gold-pierced ears and was draped in fine Mage robes of black and red, edges embroidered in delicate gold symbols. A single hood casually hung on the back half of her head, exposing her face to the torchlight. She was enjoying watching the festivities of the night before retiring to bed. Not much for drinking anything but Elvish wine, she was simply sipping a glass of water.
Her pointed ears picked up on the whispers going on a floor below her, and she curiously listened to the rumors going on about a certain Battle Mage. She only smiled, rumors never got the story completely right.
The quick skirmish between two men was over before it begun, only because one of them was too drunk to stand. Evelyn chuckled, placing her cup on the railing as she continued to watch. Soon she would return to her rented room; tomorrow was a big day and she was quite excited to see who would turn up at the shrine.