Approaching the light, as he had done for years on end, A'shinok looked to the cafe as if he'd found his home. It had been years since he had been to this part of the world, and would probably be years until he was back. The swamp shamans here taught him of their gods, and the way they listened through ritual dance. A dance he would much prefer never preforming again had he lived in a perfect world. The ground seemed to evacuate under his heavy feet, weighed down by his pristine-from-the-waist-up white and grey armor he insisted on wearing when visiting a church. It was a reminder of his past, and the activities he partook in against most gods writings.

Approaching the camel dragon tied up outside the cafe, he put his face upon it's. He felt a fraternal connection to the beast, sharing the draconic bloodline. He could tell it was comfortable with the gesture as it breathed a deal slower. "If only you could speak, as I do. The stories we could share. May the gods of this land show you their warmth, despite the dancing ability we both may lack." He put his hand to it's head and let out a hot steam like breath. and closed his eyes for a moment, saying a silent prayer to the swampland shaman's gods. "I must go see your partner. She's been waiting for me." He pat the side of it's head and walked to the door, ducking under it and into the light.

There sat Kettle and a feast. Strangely, there were few other patrons in the cafe, but food to host a small caravan for a night. He approached kettle and dropped to one knee, still looking down at her. The whole building shook a bit as he dropped to the ground. "My lady Kettle, the gods have chosen us to meet again, but not on as clean terms as I'd wished." He bowed his head as his deep and thunderous voice filled the room. He was overwhelmed on his first inhale by the smell of all of the tea and foods laid out. He looked and stood up. "May I ask what this discovery of yours was? I'd suggest we speak quietly, as I saw several other travelers headed here as well, and I remember you mentioning to keep this mission of ours a secret." He walked over to a tea kettle and grabbed a glass. "May I?" he asked.

Croft stepped onto the veranda of the Blunderbuss Café with a bright smile on his face. He took a deep breath and then took a step towards the door. He stopped when he heard a chewing sound and he looked to see Grom and his smile grew larger if that were possible. He approached the cameldragon, but stayed a few steps away from the animal, because he still wasn't sure if it was a spy for them or not. "I see Grom is alive and well." He then clapped his hands giddily. "Oh I can't wait to see Kettle!"

He listened at the door and once he was satisfied he opened it and scanned the building seeing that it was severely lacking people. He saw Kettle sitting at a table with a lizard man. He walked over to the pair and checked all of the empty seats before sitting at one. "I have arrived!" He looked warily at the lizard man, he had never met it before. "I'm the genius Croft Winston Caswell Halebard. What do you do for work?" This was a typical question he asked anyone he first met, as a test to see if anyone worked for them. He stared intensely at the lizard for its response.

Jazz sat hunched over in small dark room, inspecting a slip of paper in the dim light provided by the lamp. The occasionally bump caused by the uneven road made the flames of his only light source flicker.

She wanted me to go WHERE?!

The young goblin was going over the written parcel with an unbelieving scowl even as he was on the way to his friend's meeting place, smuggled unknowingly in a crate that at one point carried nothing but potatoes. He got rid of most of them; he kept a few around for snacks during his long trip. He had never even heard of such a place as the 'Blunderbuss Cafe'. It took a lot of work to even find someone who knew of such a place, and even more work to find a carriage that was passing by. If he didn't have respect for the seasoned explorer then Jazz would have never gone through the trouble.

Jazz was jolted to attention when he heard a ringing come from inside of his bag. It was time to get outta this box! 16 hours was a lot of time to spend with only potatoes as his company. Jazz reached into his bag and pulled out a large, intimidating using device. It was a steam-drill, refitted to work with a crank based system rather then the complex method of boiling up steam. He pointed the sharp device towards the floor, imbedded it into the wood with a might stamp, and got to work turning. He wondered if this dug through wood as well as stone, he would soon find out.

It felt like it took forever, but with some elbow grease there was a clean hole just large enough for the little guy to fit through. First, Jazz gently dropped his woolen knapsack of equipment down the hole, before equipping his goggles and diving after them. When the caravan would come to a stop later, all the rider would find is 3 half eaten potatoes, a hole, and a jar of yellow liquid not deserving of elaboration in a forum post.

====================================

"OW, OUCH, FRACK, BLEEDING GOATCOWS!" Jazz cried as he unceremoniously tumbled on the sandy road of the desert of glass. The young goblin took a moment to lay on the ground and groan about his fresh bruises before picking himself up, muttering fowl goblin curses in entire way. He hobbled over to his bag of equipment and kneeled over to pick up his scattered belongings. It took him a moment to finish cleaning his precious things up before he turned around.... and realized that he had finally made it. There was the slightly worn bar that looked worn form years of frequent usage, the blunderbuss hanging above the door, and the unfortunately familiar smell of dragoncamel. Jazz slung his stuff over his shoulder before striding inside, a self satisfied smirk on his face at the scheme he had just pulled off.

=====================================

Jazz walked through the door and didn't stop to look around at all. He simply marched over and sat down in the chair across from Kettle, reaching out for a cup of tea and scarfing it down. There were a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as the goblin scarfed the drink down, he was absolutely parched! With a mouth full of hot tea he finally gave Kettle an acknowledging nod before turning to the other two present. The human gentlemen didn't really stand out to Jazz at all but... the lizard man... was it...?!

He spat his beverage out the nearest window.

"Uh... Kettle? Is that... is that who I think it is?" He pointed at A'shinok with all of the giddiness of a child.

((Sorry to the person above me but I keep getting ninja'd and I'll notice them next post.))

Harry, read and reread the letter in his hand. It had been so many years since he had talked to Kettle, and now apparently she wants me to go see her and that apparently she's on the 'brink of a revolutionary discovery.' He mulled it over in his mind for a while. A discovery that would be amazing to see! What if it's not her writing? I haven't even seen her write before. Then again, if the letter could talk, then it does seem like it was her who had indeed wrote it. Hmm... It probably is her, I gotta go. Remembering about the secrecy concerning the letter itself he shredded it to tiny pieces and let the wind take care of it.

He knew it would take quite a long time to get to the reverse location, so he dared not waste a single day.

At the moment he was at the stables outside his favourite Tavern and quickly paid the stablemen for his large chestnut brown horse and then made the jump into the saddle even with the heavy backpack of his 'stuff n' things' weighing him down. He took off at a gallop, leaving the town quickly behind, and then continued to travel through several plains, through a couple forests, and through a mountain pass. He eventually arrived at a land that was very soggy, and had fungus seemingly everywhere. He frowned in disgust as he dismounted from his horse and made his way through the vile land on foot, not wanting to risk his horse's safety in such a mushy terrain.

At last after many days of Travel, he arrived at the BlunderBuss Cafe, quickly he tied his horse to the Veranda and proceeded to the front door.

Then he noticed Kettle's partner, that orange creature, that he never really bothered to get to know. "Hi, just seeing Kettle," he said awkwardly to the creature as he passed and entered the Cafe. The place looked very nice, with its colouring and smelled great too. The accommodations could wait though, he decided as he turned to see Kettle at a table next to Croft, he recognized with a grin and a goblin and a lizard guy? The lizardish dude and the goblin, Harry did not know, but the others were friends, so he smiled as he approached the four of them, "Croft and Kettle, how you two been these days? He said in a friendly fashion, forgetting the lizard and goblin for the moment.

As someone that didn't particularly pride himself on interactions with other creatures, Clavic was especially confused when he received a letter from someone that he met long ago. The woman he knew as Kettle. The letter seemed to indicate a decent amount of urgency, to which Clavic released a heavy sigh that slightly rattled the bones melted into his "costume." He decided that it'd at least be somewhat interesting to go, see what's going on, and maybe attempt to make a friend out of someone that he met.

"Oh, bother." He said aloud as he wondered how he was going to make it all of the way to where Kettle said the meeting point was. Stubby legs definitely wouldn't be able to carry him the entire way, he reasoned. Clav then thought long and hard about it before realizing that he had almost no reason not to go. So the creature gathered his things, which were really only a journal that he swiped off of a skeleton and a weird metal disk with an odd inscription on it.

So he set off, travelling for quite a ways to find Kettle. For the first few parts of his journey, Clav found himself resting far too frequently due to the pain that slowly crept its way into his tiny feet. It was only after he tripped on a rock formation and rolled down a small-ish hill and lightly cracked one of his horns that Clav realized that when the pain was removed from the equation, he rolled at a quite speedy pace.

It was an odd sight to anyone passing by during these times, seeing what appeared to be a black, fleshy ball of hair roll across several stretches of land with rattling skeletons creating an almost.. calming melody. If by calming melody, you meant "the sound of nightmares."

Countless rolls later and a couple of breaks to allow for the fluids in Clavic's body to stop swirling, Clavic found what he was looking for. The "Blunderbuss Cafe." The cameldragon outside of the establishment was almost completely ignored by Clav as he awkwardly shuffled into the Cafe itself. As he looked around, he saw a couple of colorful characters. Of course there was Kettle herself, a handful of people that he knew not, and... Clav's eyes slightly widened when he saw the large, saintly lizardman in the cafe. He did his best to ignore most people and kind of shuffled off into a corner, waiting to be addressed.

The Grand Monastery - 5 days ago
Forthwind's eyes narrowed as he read over the letter. The wind kept blowing his candle's light in the other direction which had forced him to relocate said candle. It was a hopeless effort anyway, he wasn't a young man anymore and even holding the paper without shaking it all over the place was a tough job even without trying to read it. He sighed, reaching into the pocket of his robes and pulling out his pair of glasses. Two large circles holding glass arcing up over Forthwind's nose and being held by a chain around his ear that 'magically' helped him read. What would those Dwarves think of next?

The letter was from, Kettle. Forthwind had to search his mind to remember the girl, but he did after a few seconds of deep thought. He smiled for a moment, firstly because he hardly ever got a letter unless it was about some spiritual problem and secondly because the letter contained details of an adventure. Forthwind couldn't believe Kettle would want an old dog like him on an adventure into these grand ruins, at first he thought Kettle had forgotten that he had aged since when they met and the fact that his hair was no longer a greying black and was now white as snow. He wasn't one to complain though, he gathered his things and began packing for the journey.

On the road to the Blunderbuss Café - 1 day ago
Throughout the journey to 'The Blunderbuss Café' the only thing that Forthwind could think about was his now deceased wife, Rohesia. The memory of Kettle came with a new memory of his wife only about a decade before her death. Most of Forthwind's memories were of the adventurous, brave and cunning redhead that would take anyone on in a fistfight no matter their size or race. Now he was remembering the woman who she grew into in her older age; kind, considerate and a loving mother. Forthwind believed that she would have been a much better fit for this adventure than he would be. The driver called out to him.
"End of the road Mac!" Forthwind opened the door of the carriage, taking the large satchel that sat on the seat next to him and slinging it over his shoulder. He looked out into the landscape, it seems they had just passed the old Kings' Mountains but had yet to actually reach the Café.
"I thought you would be taking me straight to the Café?" Asked Forthwind
"Sorry, No-can-do, the terrain gets to muddy out there, horses wouldn't like it. Tell you what, I'll take 10 gold off of your fee just for saving me the trouble." Forthwind chuckled a bit, grinning as he surveyed the area once more.
"Don't worry about it, just point me in the direction and I'll get on my way." He spoke, reaching into his satchel and pulling out his pouch of gold. The carriage driver held a finger, missing the tip of it. Forthwind paid the man and got on his merry way.

Outside the Blunderbuss Café
Forthwind marched to the front of the Café using a large stick to help him walk more quickly. He noticed a Cameldragon stabled outside and petted it for a while before heading towards the door of said Café. Forthwind loved animals, in fact he had an old dog back at the monastery, but it was far too old to do any adventuring anymore as much as it would have liked to. Forthwind opened the door and was met with a largely empty Café, save for a table filled with people. He had nowt to do but assume that it was the table he was supposed to meet Kettle at. As he drew closer to the table, he realized that the woman who was frankly showing signs of aging was Kettle herself. This did not do wonders for Forthwind, who had met Kettle when she had hardly any wrinkles. He grinned from ear to ear as he took a seat next to a goblin.
"Greetings travelling companions!" He said gleefully. He scanned the table, A goblin, Kettle, some sort of lizard warrior, a young man and an elf sat around the table. He also spotted what seemed to be some sort of skeleton creature sitting in the corner of the room. Forthwind noticed members of the group had been taking the tea on the table. He did the same, adding a few sugars and some milk to the brew before drinking.
"Sorry that I may be slightly late, I assumed my carriage driver would get me the whole way, but he dropped me off miles away." He took another drink of his tea before continuing.
"So sorry if introductions have already been done, but the only person at this table I currently know is Kettle. May I have the pleasure of knowing all of your names? I am Bishop Forthwind Cedany and would be happy to make all of your acquaintance" He grinned.

---

The Blunderbuss Café

The door to the Blunderbuss Café barged open, revealing what seemed to be an Uaru-tribesman with apple-colored hair atop a rather plump catigre. Baggage and boxes clanked with every step the catigre made, as the catigre strolled towards the warmth of the inner-parts of the establishment. The Uaru on top of the catigre grinned from ear-to-ear while announcing her arrival,"Ho, fellow plains-travelers!"

She looked around, to find that a number of individuals had already gathered. A large lizard-man, a goblin, an elf along with three other humans. Of course, she overlooked what seemed to be a pile of bones at the corner of the room, thinking that it was perhaps decoration of sorts. After all, the location where this establishment is built upon isn't exactly all cheery. A few individuals however, seemed oddly familiar! She bore no mind, rather - she focused her gaze at Kettle and gave her an acknowledging nod before turning to the crowd again.

"Weary plains-travelers, I am Sarantsatsral, a medicine-man - and on my furry steed's ever steadfast back are elixirs and mixed-herbs of the finest make!" She patted her trusty medicine box No.29; a pretty sizable box indeed, as a gesture to emphasize that her wares were readily available.

With her obvious attempt to sell goods in the vicinity, she somehow felt a menacing stare piercing through from the owner of the café at the other room - to which she lowered her voice slightly. "I have with me...Ooh! This smell...It's buttered tea!" Evidently distracted by the wafting fragrance of a rather familiar tea, she hopped off lazily from Pash as she approached the table. As her rather lacking height barely allowed her to take a good look at the assortment of food and drinks on the table, she then climbed atop a chair. Her eyes scoured the table, to which she spotted a pot filled with a light brown liquid.

"It is buttered tea! I haven't had this since..." She began to reminisce of her childhood, in the days where she was still living with her family. She then gestured towards a bowl, as it was obviously beyond her reach - hoping someone would pass it to her.

"A letter from.. Kettle? Hmmm... where is? Um, ohkay..." The hunter hobbled around thinking. "Oh I think I know where that is."



"I know where that is, I know where. I know where I swear." Looking around it was clear he was lost but to him there was still a hope that he was right. And so far it appeared only that finding this cafe would satisfy his delusion.



"Oh is that.... YES GROM, YES." The hunter raised his fists in victory for he'd found Grom. Getting closer he saw the cafe... "That's a strange looking building... but if she's is in there, I'm ready." The hunter hobbled toward the doorway slowly, catching odd scents as well as oders from those within. He was no doggator but he had a nose for certain creatures... scaled creatures. This one in particular brought up memories of a fight long ago. It was one he dared never speak of to anyone but a pet rock.

"No way... Is that?" He opened the door slowly, peeking in and seeing.... "whhaaat in the world."

The door opened all the way, squeaking and revealing his location to those within. Who could ignore that sound of scraping nails across a rock?

"Hi." He said, hoping Kettle would be in the room. He took a left foot forward then a right wooden peg, then another foot and repeated until he saw the one in purple robes... "Hey! You're here.." He smiled, "Thanks for the invite. I wasn't sure you'd remember me at all."

He turned to see the others but his body straightened up when he saw the face of the lizard man, the one who nearly claimed another leg.

"Oh... hi there." he said, sweating like rain. "Didn't know you two knew each other..."

Nel stared blankly at the unfinished painting, "I'm afraid I don't quite get it."

"What is there to get?" Came a reply from a gruff man, a man Nel simply referred to as 'Painter' after an elongated exchange in which she only learned that the man loved painting, waxing philosophical, and performing linguistic gymnastics. He was a curmudgeon; graying, grumpy, and he seemed to have a permanent scowl set upon his thin lips.

He was also the only person currently awake enough to speak to Nel.

The pair sat, along with several other people, in the enclosed back of a re-purposed merchant's coach headed for the border. The man who had been so kind as to pick Nel up was a coyote; one who smuggled citizens into and out of country's for a fee. The people here were criminals, political prisoners-- there were even a few people like her, poor people from any number of the villages dotting the country side who hadn't been accepted as they were. All interesting character, all sought asylum in the lands to the south. Nel wasn't planning on going that far, her stop was the bayou-- the coyote's coal-horses could push right through the swampy muck, making passage with him much more direct.

She'd reach the Blunderbuss Café before midday at this rate-- already, she'd covered more distance in a hours than she had in a whole moon!

Nel tilted her head, squinting in the poorly lit cab, trying to understand the composition of the Painter's brush strokes-- for the life of her, it looked like black butterflymoth droppings! She tried to understand his question-- What is there to get?

"I'm sorry?"

"What are you sorry for?"

Whispering, she parroted his question, "What am I sorry for?"

"That's what I asked wasn't it!" The cab bumped into something, the small oil lamp shook from where it hung, and with the bump, the painter made a harsh diagonal swipe, as if he wished to cut the canvas.

The coyote called back to apologize to everyone for the bumpy conditions of the swamp.

"I suppose you did..." Nel adjusted her sitting position to get a closer look at the black Rorschach mass, "Still. I'm afraid I can't answer your question if I don't very understand what it is you're asking!"

"Can't you?" the old Painter retorted.

"No? I think I'd need clarification to give a good answer."

"Do you know that?" He spoke with a tone an annoyed parent would speak to a child with.

"Sir?"

"Do you know that you need some form of clarification to give answers?" He grunted, another harsh stroke as the coach met more resistance from the swamp.

"If they're to be good answers, I should think so!"

"Do answers need to be good?"

"I'd certainly prefer it if they were."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why do you prefer good answers?"

"Uhm.."

"If you've got the clarification..." His speech slowed as he began to get into the fine details of his painting, "... to lead someone else..." Was that a face he was painting? "... to a good answer... then why not just find the answer yourself?"

Nel thought on the Painter's words for a moment, before an answer to his question shot to her mind, "A different perspective?"

He threw down his brush with a grunt at the answer, before turning to Nel in the cramped quarters, "Do you 'get' my painting?"

"I'm not quite sure there's anything to get, sir."

"Mmm." The Painter nodded.

"It probably means something different to everyone," This got another approving nod from the Painter, "I am a little curious what it means to you, if you don't mind my asking, sir."

"Oh! You don't get off that easy, miss." He gave a mixture of a grimace and a grin, "I asked you first."

Nel took in the black painting once more before answering with "A lover's embrace."

"That's an interesting take," The Painter, who signed his painting Barysheva, he rubbed a hand through his scraggly beard, covering the thing in black paint. No doubt he was contemplating his finished work, he seemed very satisfied. "I was actually just interpreting what I was seeing..."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm!" He clasped calloused hands together, "I was painting you."

---

---

Nel followed a path of glowing pleurotus ostreatushe to the café, muck had already began to coat the bottom of her floor-length dress before she'd entered the swamp, with each step, she became more acquainted with the mushy loam. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to her-- in fact, if she closed her eyes as she moved forward, she could almost picture herself back on the farm, it was just another misty morning after a monsoon... the fertile mud would give rise to lovely greens...

Nel's eyes slowly opened, face to face with some horrid, draconic... thing!

Instinctively, Nel jumped back, wrapping herself around one of the wooden pillars of the suspended café.

The cameldragon yawned in response.

Nel, unconvinced that the creature wouldn't consume her if she got too close, remained with the pillar, several feet away from the door. Was this Kettle's? It couldn't possibly be! It looked like it'd just as soon suck out the bones of a woman her size as it would accompany her as a mount!

Or wait.

Was she thinking of vampirecows? Nel didn't take her eyes off the creature, but her gaze softened. Perhaps she was getting her creatures mixed up again?

Detecting movement, Nel looked to her feet. Climbing up her dress-- or rather, walking vertically, was a mushroom pixie. She didn't shoo it away, and instead watched as the small girl-like fungus confidentially walked up, sat down on her shoulder, and crossed it's legs. These things were considered good luck back home. Taking the presence of the mushroom pixie as a good sign, Nel tentatively walked past the Cameldragon and slowly opened the door into the café.

What she saw filled her with terror unspeakable.

The Skeleton Man.

With eyes wide and skin pale, Nel slammed the door shut and turned away. Whatever Kettle had wanted from her parents, it was not worth dealing with the Skeleton Man again. Mushroom pixie luck was only so strong, and that guy was... too spooky.

Saira looked over the note again before tucking it into the crook between her vest and her shirt. She was quite surprised how the letter found her, after all, she was constantly on the move. But then again, Kettle had a strange way of knowing things, out of all people she'd be the one able to find her. Kettle spoke of some sort of discovery, and with her sort or enthusiasm, how could Saira say no? Besides, it wasn't like she had any better place to be, and she deserved some sort of excitement in her life. Saira stretched her arms high, sucking in a deep breath of air before swinging her lute onto her back and patting down her pockets to check her possessions. It would be a long journey, the Blunderbuss Café was quite a ways from where she was, if she was thinking of the right place. While never having visited such a place before, she was convinced she has heard its name come up once or twice in conversations. Well, no matter, Saira had traveled here and there and somehow managed to survive this far, she'd probably be able to make it to the meeting point as well.

She didn't have the money on her to rent any sort of noble steed, but she did hitchhike for quite a way there. The locals were always so nice, save for the few that didn't really appreciate her presence, but luckily that was few and far in between. Walking the entire way, while possible, wasn't her favorite choice. Ever she had injured her leg in the "accident", she avoided walking prolonged distances if she could. The rides she took were never "free", per say, she always insisted in strumming some sort of tune to liven up the ride at least a little. One of the travelers was even transporting a magnificent harp for a noble in a distant land. It was quite gorgeous, really, supposedly made of solid silver with string woven with the fires of the rare chimera. While Saira was fairly certain that was all but true, the harp created a beautifully haunting melody as she plucked idly at the strings.

However, her companions came and went like the wind, it seemed, everywhere had somewhere else to be, and speaking of, she did too. It was just her luck that some merchant also happened to travel through the Desert of Glass, but they parted soon enough. The desert really reminded her of home, what with the searing heat and sand, it was practically the same thing! The desert was the easy part, but the Marshes were another story. Every step seemed to soak her boots in mud and drag her deeper and deeper down into the ground. It took her a while to reach her destination, mostly because of the last leg of her journey, but she did indeed make it. And she knew it for certain when she spotted that large, unmissable cameldragon (and a few other animal companions) tethered right outside the door. Saira won't lie, she shrieked with joy and sprinted the rest of the way. Flinging off mud at the doorstep, she ran a quick hand through her hair to tame it again before yanking the door wide open to let herself in.

It was pleasantly packed, and it seemed Kettle had invited people from far and wide. And, not to mention, people she had encountered before. Only once or twice, but the coincidence was still amazing. But all that could wait until later. Saira made a beeline for the tables packed with food, marveling over the treats that she both did and did not recognize. This. This made it almost worth it.

This was truly a special occasion. Lila had never received a letter before. Firstly because few know her and second because there never arose a reason to send for her. But there one was, from a fellow explorer no less. Kettle and she had the opportunity to meet and trade stories of their adventures. Of course the more experienced woman had far more to tell. But it gave Lila something to aspire to.

Apparently she was being called to accompany the adventurer to discover something far grander than she ever imagined. While riches were not of much consequence it was hard to deny the draw of the unknown. Speaking of, this cafe was well past lands Lila explored. But Kettle was someone that was worth trekking across the wilderness for. While there were others that she had come across in her travels none seemed as well versed.

Most of the way was not very difficult to navigate. Her legs made travel quick and climbing over terrain easy. Well, most of the time. The wetland proved to be more difficult than most. Her legs coming to a point didn't leave much for surface tension. Might as well have been planting a stake in the mud. Sticking to some of the more dry patches her route was not as straight forward, but manageable. Thus are the problems when one passes the existing path. Perhaps procuring a proper map would have helped.

"Finally. This place was so much harder to find than I imagined." Then again, she usually just wandered rather than try to actually go anywhere specific. Climbing up the rock wall she spotted Grom. It was yet one of the many unexpected surprises of travel. She quite liked the cameldragon, another mixed creature like herself. Petting it briefly she turned to see Nel backing away from the door. Curious she moved closer but announced her presence. Not doing so had a way of frightening other. "Hello there. Are you alright?" Having moved to the door she opened it cautiously and saw a great variety to beings. Four of which she had encountered in the past, they being the Forthwind, Sarant, Leon, and of course Kettle herself. Quite interesting. There was supposed to be some secrecy involved but apparently she was not the only one selected for this trip. She looked back to the woman behind her.

---

Kettle curled a fist under her chin, stirring honey into her tea. The morning was already half over; the clink of her spoon echoed in the empty room. The food was cooling and her nerves were restless. She scratched at a deep stain on the table, distracting herself from the sick and empty fear that all of her letters would go unanswered.

---

A noise on the veranda raised her head suddenly, and Kettle's eyes darted to the window as she pushed her hood back. Yes, someone was there -- a low voice spoke just beyond the doorway. She was on her feet, a sheathed dagger squeezed in her fist, and she watched the door.



The moment A'shinok's enormous frame ducked through the doorway, a grin of joyful relief spread over Kettle's face. She only just managed to restrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck in hysterical happiness at the sight of a familiar and trustworthy face. Instead, she bowed respectfully to him in return, and gestured that he should sit (with a slight worry that the chair might not hold him) and take some tea.

"The other travelers you saw may likely be allies," she explained, sitting down across from him at the long table, still wearing a goofy grin. "More voluteers might join us just yet, and I think it best if I waited to explain myself until everyone involved is present. I ask for your patience, then. Instead, please tell me where you've been and all you've seen since we last met. Have you found what you've been looking for?"

For more than an hour they spoke, catching up on old stories, and Kettle only skirted around the issues at hand, no matter how much it might frustrate the present company. She was determined not to repeat it.

---

There was another noise on the veranda, and a voice that was much louder and more grating than A'shinok's had been. Kettle stopped speaking in mid-sentence, and looked over at the door with a slight, wincing smile.



"A'shinok, this is Croft," Kettle repeated the introduction with a lilt of apology; she gestured to the newcomer and poured a glass of tea for Croft. The man needed no further introduction; he tended to take care of that on his own. "Croft, this is A'shinok Duran. He's a fellow traveler and trusted friend." That meant no funny business, according to the playful glare she shot in Croft's direction.

---

The goblin was so small and quiet -- and the conversation so commanding of Kettle's attention -- that she didn't quite realize his presence until she spotted an arm reaching across for a teacup. The conversation had stopped abruptly, and Kettle watched him with a bemused grin that burst into laughter at his reaction to the presence of his idol of the colosseum.

Kettle gestured with a bit of formality between them. "Croft, A'shinok, I'd like you to meet Jazzle Finks. Jazz, this is Croft Haelbard and A'shinok Duran."

After that, there was much to discuss among the four of them, and the room began to get rather joyously loud.

---

Kettle laughed with one of Jazz's stories, and looked over to see that someone else had slipped in quietly.



With a warm smile, Kettle grabbed a cup of fresh tea and a plate of biscuits and bid the others to carry on the conversation while she stepped away. She set the food down for Silcia, laid a warm hand on her shoulder in greeting and sat across from her.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she said earnestly, grinning happily to see Silcia again, to know that the elf was still as curious and quietly adventurous as ever. "How was the trip? Did you make it across the Desert of Glass without being chased by sand ghosts? Tell me everything, how have you been?"

Kettle and Silcia spoke together for awhile, trading stories and catching up, before Kettle nodded toward the others at the end of the table. "Come on, I want my friends to meet you. The big one there is A'shinok -- he looks scary but he's a sweetheart. The goblin is Jazz -- he's loud, but you'll like him. The man is Croft -- just don't mind anything he says to you."

She encouraged the to join the group, and cleared her throat for the boys' attention. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce to you Princess Silcia Nonorie. She is a dear friend of mine and an astounding healer."

After that, more tea was poured and more food was eaten, including some swampland delicacies like seasoned crawfish and seaweed mash, and the conversations continued.

---

Kettle had her mouth full of seaweed when Harry appeared beside them, and she grinned and swallowed hurriedly before she stood to shake his hand. "Harry! Come and sit down," she commanded with a grin, and she banged the chair beside her insistently. "You already know Croft? This is A'shinok, Jazz and Silcia. Everyone, this is Harry Nets. You might have seen his performances. Harry, say hello."

The noise grew even louder after that, and there was more than enough tea and seaweed to go around. Afternoon rolled by, and something dark and alive rolled in out of the marsh.

---

Kettle saw him immediately -- and immediately she feared for his safety. There were too many at the table who might be dangerous in a panic. To be honest, she never expected Clav to actually travel this distance, and she wondered how in the world he had managed it. Not that she wasn't pleased and honored that he had made the journey.

"Everyone, here is another friend," she said loudly, to quiet the other conversations and draw their attention before they noticed Clav on their own. Kettle got up and went to him, grinning. "Clav! Oh dear, you must be exhausted. I'm honored that you came all this way! Can I get you something?" Awkwardly, Kettle tried and failed to remember whether Clav ate food at all.

She laid a hand on his back and gestured to the table. "This is A'shinok, Croft, Jazz, Silcia and Harry. They're all friends and --" she looked sideways at Croft, "most of them are very fine people." She smiled and gave Clav a wink. "Everyone, this is my good friend Clavic."

It took a few moments to acclimate everyone in the room to Clavic's presence, but with some encouragement Kettle felt confident enough to sit down again and continue previous conversations. She kept an eye on Silcia, especially, who she knew could be squeamish.

---

Kettle had stood the moment the good bishop entered, and noted with a heartfelt smile that the man was a good bit older than she had remembered him -- and so was she, she thought. She had heard of the passing of his wife, a wonderful woman who had made a lasting impression on young Kettle. Forthwind's presence brought out a more civilized personality in Kettle; she nodded respectfully to him in greeting, smiling widely.

"Bishop Cedany, we're honored to have --"



There, inside the doorway, stood a beastly catiger with a small winged girl on its back. Kettle smiled and shook her head. She already knew that an introduction was forthcoming, and that her own interference was unnecessary.



"Sarantsatsral, it's so good to see you -- and Pash! Have all the tea you like, there's more brewing as we speak." It was clear that the Uaru would be preoccupied for a few moments at least, so she addressed the rest of the table.

"Sarantsatsral is skilled in herbalism and medicine," she repeated, to assure the table that it wasn't just a sales pitch. "Silcia, you two may have much in common," she encouraged the elf, although Silcia and Sarantsatsral were as opposite in personality as they could possibly be, she hoped the common interests might spark some kind of friendship. Or disaster.

---

Kettle heard Leon's familiar voice call from the doorway, and immediately her heart soared -- for no reason but that her student of the meaning of life had remembered and responded to her call. She was eager to know how he had fared since they met, whether he had indeed changed his ways -- and a part of her selfishly hoped she had made a great impression on the man's previously bloody lifestyle.

But when Kettle looked up, her warm smile fell immediately and her eyes widened. "Leon! What the hell happened to you?" He had definitely had two legs when they had last spoken. She glanced at the Bishop, embarrassed for her language. "Sorry, Bishop. Leon, I mean, it's good to see you, please come sit down!" She glanced between Leon and A'shinok, noting the tension there but not at all understanding it, and she stood up as she gestured to a seat close to Silcia, who would be the least likely to aggravate the man's nerves.

Kettle sat down and soon learned all that had happened between Leon and A'shinok, and she listened with wide-eyed shock while she poured tea for Leon.

Eventually the conversations continued, though the mood in the room was not quite as boisterous as it had been before, after such a story. Their talks took a slightly more serious turn as they exchanged the hardships they had endured over the past years. More tea was poured.

---

Kettle raised her head at the slam of the door, and blinked. But after a few minutes the door finally opened again, and Kettle grinned to see her friend rush in, with the familiar old lute still intact.



"Saira!" Kettle was on her feet, and even while Saira helped herself to the food, Kettle draped an arm behind her shoulders and gave her a warm squeeze. "Haven't you eaten at all? Try this one, it's fantastic. It's so good to see you! Ladies and gentlemen, this is Saira Khouri." Between Saira and Sarantsatsral they would be out of food and tea in no time flat, Kettle thought with a smile. Introductions were useless while Saira was distracted by food, so Kettle didn't trouble her with introductions and let her eat to her stomach's content.

---

Kettle recognized the face that appeared in the doorway, and she continued laughing with those at the table for a moment before she excused herself and went alone to the door, petting Pash the catigre on her way. Those present had managed to embrace Clav, but Kettle had reservations about introducing Lila without some warning.

Kettle approached with great respect and friendship, almost mystified that Lila had responded so readily to the call.

"Lila, it is an honor to see you again, I am so pleased you're here," she said with an encouraging smile -- which widened a bit more when she saw that none of the horses had been eatein -- but she tipped her head, curious that Lila seemed distracted by something behind her. Kettle couldn't get a good look from this side of the doorway. "Is something wrong?"

Immediately, Kettle's thoughts returned to the worries she had entertained in the early morning, and she gripped the door frame, her expression solemn and questioning.

"Croft, this is A'shinok Duran. He's a fellow traveler and trusted friend."

Croft nodded understandingly. "Right, right." He realized he was foolish to think that any one of Kettle's allies could be one of them. However, even then he still kept a wary eye on suspicious newcomers. He stirred the tea with his finger a bit before he drank it. "Ahhhh my favorite! Excellent well, Kettle excellent well!"

Croft shuffled his backpack off of his back finally and placed it tenderly at his feet as to not hurt any of its contents. His umbrella was already leaned up against his leg as he sat down.

After some time a newcomer arrived. A goblin. There were no goblins in their plans, so Croft assumed that this was another guest of Kettle's.

"Croft, A'shinok, I'd like you to meet Jazzle Finks. Jazz, this is Croft Haelbard and A'shinok Duran."

"Croft Winston Caswell Halebard." Croft added proudly just as Kettle finished. "Traveler and genius extraordinaire."

Then a snow elf arrived which was something of an oddity considering how rare they were. Croft immediately dismissed any notion of her being a part of them. Kettle's next introduction most certainly burned away any other doubts as he knew there were no mentions of princesses in their plot. He nodded silently and smiled as more food was eaten.

Then Harry Nets' arrival made Croft jump with joy out of his seat. "Harry Nets! Good to see Harry Nets! Oh this is a joyous day!"

The next few to arrive Croft didn't notice as he was too distracted in his conversation with Harry and the others, but mostly Harry. However, he greeted the next several guests in typical Croft fashion.

As Kettle stood up and headed to the door to check on Lila, Croft's eyes followed. When his eyes alone couldn't follow anymore he turned his head toward the door to which she was heading. That was when he saw a being of extraordinary beauty that he could not take his eyes off of. He lost track of all conversations as he was purely smitten by Lila.

Jazz listened intently as he was formally introduced to the champion of the ring.
"Hey, uh... yeah. Nice to meet you, aherm. Uh you too Croft." Jazz was a bit embarrassed by his outburst, but he kind of got caught in the heat of the moment. He should probably try harder to play it cool, wouldn't want to set a bad impression.

It had been some time since Jazz had seen A'shinok compete in the arena, he was starting to wonder if he had received some kind of debilitating injury, or worse. But there his hero was, in the flesh and looking as dangerous as ever. Jazz had many questions, but decided it would be better for him to figure out where he stands with the rest of the group first.

Croft... was a weird one. Self proclaimed genius. Somehow Jazz was skeptical. Whether he is as intelligent as he claims he is or not, Jazz didn't like his self assured attitude. He would keep an eye on this guy. It took a moment for Jazz to get comfortable with the conversation, but Kettle's presence made him feel a bit more comfortable and soon he joined the group in their banter. Kettle knows how to bring a group together, as Jazz's experience has lead him to believe.

===================================================

Jazz had just finished retelling his tale about his run-in with a flock of angry goose-hawks when an elderly man entered the room. It seemed like he was just about to be introduced when another character suddenly burst through the doors of the blunderbuss. He would recognize that ridiculous beast from anywhere. Jazz tried his best not to make eye contact, hoping that the young woman on top of the tiger-thing wouldn't recognize him. This is not the company to have discussions about his past life as a petty thief. Jazz took a silent breath of relief when the medicine-woman became distracted by the food and beverage.

Jazz gave Bishop a friendly nod when he sat down at the table.
"The name's Jazz, I fix things. It can be hard to say hi when the tykes come burstin' in screeching like a harpy." Jazz turned to look at Sarantsatsral but she was much too distracted. He shrugged and focused the attention back to the discussion at hand. He tried his best to get to know everyone, but it was a lot to take in.

===================================================

The evening soon turned into something of a blur from the goblin's perspective. So many people entering and being introduced, it would take a while to process and remember all of their names. He would like to get properly acquainted with everyone... once the chaos has calmed down a bit.

Harry, was having a grand old time as kettle recognized him, and shook his hand, inviting him to take a seat which he did. The performer nodded towards the names of who Kettle introduced: A'shinok or lizard man, Jazz the goblin, and Silcia? He turned to look at the owner of the name to see the elf girl... Oh dear... the poor girl I scared out of her wits, by only bringing my daggers out, there were just equipment not weapons for god sake... He held his head in his hands as he remembered their meeting which went oh so wrong.

Thankfully, though she seemed to notice everyone there except him. One of these days though he was going to have to get her to forgive him if they were to travel together... An ordeal for another day as he finally was able to get into conversation with his pal Croft!

He was able to tell his friend of some of his better and worse acrobatic and juggling performances in taverns, telling the man about how he Harry sometimes didn't get paid enough and other times made a fortune. His pal seemed to appreciate his stories and Harry appreciated Croft's, their conversation went on for quite a while.

While still in conversation with Croft a older fellow than harry himself interupted their chat, saying his name was 'Bishop Forthwind Cedany' and that he's happy to make acquaintances with everybody.

That's fine with harry even though he was a little miffed, as he was interupted from talking with Croft, which after the Bishop finished he promptly went back to.

Continuing to talk for a while with croft until he noticed a small lady? She introduced herself as Sarantsatsral and apparently a medicine woman, that piqued his interest. He kind of skipped over Sara's mention of the her tiger steed?

He turned back to croft, to explain that he wanted to talk to the medicine woman, only to see that he was entranced by something. Following the man's gaze he noticed a spider lady, an interesting romance story that would make but he decided he was more interested in learning more about Sarantsatsral.

Following Sara. over to the table full of foodstuffs, He noticed she was having trouble and passed a bowl she was reaching for to her. @orangebox "I'm Harry, a performer." He said with a slight grin, as he asked her, "Is there such a thing as bad medicine?"

Around this time there were other arrivals, but harry was too busy talking to Sara. to notice.

---

"Sarantsatsral, it's so good to see you -- and Pash! Have all the tea you like, there's more brewing as we speak."

"I am glad that you still remembered me Kettle!" Sarant replied as her gaze focused at the rather distant bowl. She inched and nudged up and over the table, to which a lengthy but rather toned arm seemed to appear out of nowhere and easily reached it. Turning her gaze towards the owner of the arm, she was presented with said bowl and an introduction from one of Kettle's acquaintances.

"I'm Harry, a performer." He said with a slight grin, as he asked her, "Is there such a thing as bad medicine?"

Sarant stared at the man for a while, contemplating his rather odd question. It took her a while in the pause before she reached for the bowl and answered, "Oh, greetings! Yes...Yes, definitely!" She affirmed herself with a nod, while she placed the bowl onto the table and continued to sit down on the chair she previously used as a ladder. Pash was comfortably positioned on the floor behind Sarant as it yawned - revealing his set of rather sharp fangs hidden behind his lazy and undependable demeanor. Sarant then reached for the pot of buttered tea, lifted it up with slight difficulty, then slowly poured the milky contents into her bowl - as an Uaru typically drinks from it, instead of a cup or a mug.

"In the study of medicine, there are properties that either negate or enhance one another! Too much heat, medicine should be cooling. Too much cold, medicine should be heating! In that, one should not consume medicine with cold properties when the body is under strain of the cold!" As her bowl filled up nearly to the brim, she stopped and continued her explanation, "Just like how you would not continue to pour more into the bowl when it's full!" A smug etched across her face, slightly proud over her rather odd attempt at a metaphor.

She placed the pot of buttered tea back to where it originally was, then cupped the bowl with her two hands as she sipped at the fragrant salty tea. Rather oblivious at the fact that Harry was more interested at her than her wares, she patted the sides of her trusty medicine box No.29 strapped behind Pash and queried with glee, "Would you like to buy some, Harry!" She gave a pause, sipped loudly at her tea with a mellow and content face before continuing, "As you are acquaintances with Kettle, I'll give you a good price!"

It was then, Silcia the elvish girl to whom Kettle introduced as another in the same trade as Sarant greeted meekly.

"Hello." I whispered giving the small girl a smile.

Turning to the rather graceful looking elf, she smiled with the whites of her teeth and replied, "Ho! Has perhaps my wares took to your interest! I have many in my possession, herbs and ointments healers usually work with in their trade!" Her arms greedily reached for the plate of food as she began scooping her portion onto her own plate.

"Or perhaps you wish to share some knowledge in the arts of medicine and healing? I have heard that elves are pretty dependable when it comes to having a healer's touch!"

@Gareth@AiyvaGuard