The Great Sands of the Restless
A Medieval Fantasy By EWillden

The sun was rising up from the east, bringing light to the city of Zaphere. Zaphire was a city placed at the edge of a ocean and supplied much of the deserts cities with fish and great exports from far away lands. The desert was huge and some places actually had trees or life that would only be present in the desert. This story began in a tavern called Oasis. The tavern served the usual stuff such as wine and ale among other normal things. This tavern also housed a group of entertainers with female dancer. There were four other taverns in Zaphere ,but the Oasis was more promising in its services. Most of the occupants wore very fine silk and it was rather heavy. The clothing was designed to keep away the sand in the air but also made it some what hot. The bar keep was a very stocky fellow with a well trimmed beard and dark skin. He was currently cleaning up the counter top awaiting for customers or a waitress to relay a order.

The tavern also had itself some security. Two strong men with Falchions at their hips. They constantly kept moving their attention to each of the occupants making sure things were going rather peaceful. Suddenly a man entered the tavern, he was dressed heavily in garments and carries with him a wizards staff. He moved to the counter of the bar and gestured to the barkeep. The an was fairly young but looked to be in his late forties. He whispered to the bar keep causing him to nod in acceptance. The wizard then moved to a billboard and placed a notice on it. Stating there was a job available to adventurers and mercenaries. The job described a rather large payment of a thousand gold to each of the persons taking part in the quest and that the job was being hosted by a guild of mages. The note also stated which table to go to if they wanted to know more information. The wizard then moved to the very table mentioned in the note and sat down. He lowered his satchel full of scrolls and a map. He sighed, "Well now I wait, hopefully it wont take too long before someone answers my postings."

Varis stared at the tavern as he stood outside, his hood on and his cloak flying behind him as a strong gust of wind filled with sand flew in his direction. As Varis was about to take a step forward, Varis stumbled forward as someone bumped into his right shoulder. Varis quickly regained himself and stood up, looking in front of him, waiting for the man who had bumped into him to utter an apology, but instead saw the man walk into the bar without any so hint of acknowledging Varis.

Varis slowly moved his right hand towards the pommel of his short sword as he took a single step forward, but stopped himself before he was able to even touch the pommel of his sword. Varis then moved his right hand down to his side, clenching his fist as he slowly walked inside.

As Varis neared the entrance, he stopped once more before sighing and raising both of his hands towards his head only to flip his hood off of him. Varis then sighed once more before lowering his head for the door -- something that he does out of instinct now rather than the entrance being too short for him -- and entering the tavern. Varis stopped soon after he was inside the tavern, looking around at the people inside of the tavern only to come to the realization of one thing: he was horribly out of place.

Of course, Varis had always looked out of place due to his rather shifty looking armor and shifty looking dark-green cloak, but never before had he been this out of place. The people inside of the tavern wore incredibly fine, luxuriant, heavy-looking garments made out of fine looking silk, while Varis wore his usual dirty and shifty looking equipment. Varis sighed once more -- albeit more quieter then this -- and walked towards the counter of the bar. As Varis took a seat at a stool, he couldn't help but feel as if everyone's eyes were on him, regardless or not if they actually were. Varis hated it.

Assassins hated being out of place.

Dear god, what am I doing at this absolutely filthy rat hole? Varis asked himself as he looked down at the counter.

She spent a good amount of her time roaming the city streets. Her disguise was rather poor. If she had a face mask it might have worked. People were still able to see parts of her face which exposed her as a drow elf. She only wore the hood now to keep out the sun. It's intense rays really bothered her. Perhaps once she got used to it it would get much better. The people didnt seem to mind though. Perhaps they figured if she was a threat she would have never made it past the main gate. It did not take long before she felt the effects of the desert though, as she felt the back of her throat get dry. She had hardly any gold though, but perhaps it was enough for a drink or two.

Shr took her next steps towards a tavern holding her hood down only slightly to give a portion of her cheeck a chance to cool under some shade. When she reached the tavern she pulled the cowl down and brushed her silver bangs to the side and then entered pushing the door inwards. The place had its fair share of hooligans but there were a couple people who stuck out from the rest. She moved to find a seat at the counter and once she had she signaled the barkeep.
"Start me off with a glass of water, then perhaps a red wine if you have it" she said placing coins on the counter. The man nodded and took the coins and began to fill a glass of water. She took it and downed it quickly. Some of the water escaping at the sides and dripping down her chin. She placed the glass diwn and whiped her mouth.
[i]That was more like it [\i]

She looked about and spotted the bulletin board with a job offer. Her elven eyes made out what it had said and to which table. She looked behind her and saw what she thought was just a weighed down old man. His staff however gave it away. He must be the wizard. She took the glass of wine with her and headed for him. When she got there she pulled a chair and sat down. "You have a job offer?" She asked. He nodded pulling a scroll from out of the satchel.

" Greetings, Adventurer
I am Mage Tazeem and I have a proposition for you. The job will give you a payment of 1000 gold if you can full fill the mission. The mission requires you and five or more others to embark on a journey to the anceint city of Fahran where you will retrieve a ancient artifact that looks similar to a chalice. Take it and bring it back to the guild and you will be paid in full."

She nodded and took a sip of her wine. She then lowered the scroll and rose a brow. "Five or more others?... How hard is it that it takes five or more others?"

The mage just rose a hand hushing her. "All will be told as soon as more arrive" he answered.

The town air felt good at this time in the evening. It was filled with the sounds of regular night life and felt welcoming to those who lived more underworldly lives. A towering barbarian type of a man, riding in on a large draft horse, one of the few horse's fit to carry him, was one of those many drawn to a less than honorable life.

The man dismounted, dirty and sweaty from riding for so long and being out in the sun for too long. His clothes were covered in dirt, and the heat of the day had soaked his clothes in sweat. He was in desperate need of cleaning up, and so he came to the tavern to refuel and renew. Though he would need a good drink first of all.

The man's name was Hugh Van Halder. A man of many misfortunes, all leaving him alive. He was beginning to think he was cursed. This evening, however, it would appear fate would bless him.

Hugh walked boldy into the tavern, bumping into a gentleman as he walked in. He had completely forgotten his manners, and simply paid no homage to the unfortunate gentleman.

His course proved to take home to the main bar where he quickly spotted the poster with the quest on it. Noting the generous pay, he kept it in mind as he ordered up a very strong lager. "This could be good." He noted, picking up the lager and beginning to nurse it steadily. Soon, after staring at the poster long enough, he realized that the man offering the quest was in this tavern at the time, and would sit at a table a little further behind him.

He asked the bartender where he could find the man responsible for putting out the quest, and he directed him to a table further off, with only a cloaked man with a staff and a silver haired female, sitting and talking.

Without further adieu, Hugh picked up his lager and carried it over with him to the table. He paused for a moment, above the table uncertain as to when he could join the conversation. "Excuse me, are you the man who issued the quest? Could I be of service?"

Not far outside was a cliff, the cliff where one lady sat. She was quiet as she walked off this cliff and walked quickly in-case she thought anyone would stare at her and think that she was acting weird.

Upon walking towards the tavern and opening it's door it looked cheerful to her and everyone was having their fun, drinking and eating good food while they had their talks about their daily lives. Instantly the young lady was jealous but was happy it was being put to good use. She walked to the bar and asked for a beer while he nodded, he asked her name and her reply was that her name is Ellyn and that she is a bard. Thinking she looked rather lonely in her eyes he asked if she would join a quest, pointing in the direction of where she could negotiate with the others.

Ellyn didn't want to in-case she was bullied but she walked there anyway, drinking her beer. 'Good evening' she smiled 'C-can I help on this quest by any chance...? I am a bard and I would like help you.' The bartender smiled upon seeing her ask if she can help but cursed at himself excessively afterwards because he forgot to give her the details of the quest.

The squat figure shambled down the road leaving the docks, stumbling every now and again with each heavy step. The only things helping him keep his balance were the large pack on one shoulder that gently clanked its contents with each step, and the massive war hammer resting on the other.

"Damn the bloody ocean." he grumbled. "Damn that bloody ship. And damn that that bloODY, SON OF A GOBLIN WHORE PIRATE!" His frustrated yelling was punctuated by his nausea attempting a reenactment of his four day journey. Bjoric managed to keep it down to a small belch, tasting of the rancid grog that had been given to him with promises of quieting his stomach, which almost started the process over again.

"I need a drink." With a deep breath he pushed on, stopping at the first tavern that didn't stink of fish. Pushing through the door of the Oasis he was greeted with the comforting smells of fresh food and ale. Shuffling to the bar and finding a vacant seat, he dropped his belongings to the floor, drawing fourth his purse and digging out a few coins. "Your darkest ale." He said, placing the coins on the bar after heaving himself into the stool that was clearly not built with dwarves in mind.

Replacing the purse to his belt, he couldn't help feel how unnervingly light it was becoming. He was going to need to find some work before he'd be able to carry on. The tavern keep placed the tankard in front of Bjoric, "Thank ye." With that he brought the tankard to his lips and took a long draw of the almost black ale. Having drained half of it stopped to let out a contented sigh of relief, the nausea being washed away by the bitter liquid. Looking around he saw that this was popular establishment, many of the patrons wearing clothes far finer than his own. Next his eyes were drawn to a notice board with papers stuck to it.

Deciding to take a closer look he hopped from his stool, placing his hammer in his pack and slinging both over his shoulder he took up his half-empty tankard and made for the board. A quick scan and another sip of ale revealed most of the notices to nothing more than menial labor, until he saw one with nothing more than the reward of 1,000 gold pieces and direction to a table to inquire further. Looking to the table described he saw that three other had already gathered there, including a mountain of a man that he was surprised he hadn't noticed earlier. Making his way over he was able to see that one of the others was an elf maiden, the third figure was wearing a cloak which made it hard to see her face.

"Moradins beard your a big one ain't ye." he remarked, as the man seemed to only get taller once Bjoric reached the table. "I gather ye are all here 'or the mountain o gold this fool's ofer'n too?"

She quickly looked to the dwarf, having to look down upon him in a quiet manner as she smiled at him, knowing he was here for the quest too yet worried in-case he would mock her for anything really. Then looking to the others.

'Yes, I am indeed' she smiled, still trying to hide her fear from everyone. Looking around she still noticed everyone was having fun and was still jealous of that. Ellyn wishes she could have fun and spend time with everyone like all the customers at this tavern were, but she knew it wasn't likely to happen.

'I wonder what the others will say about me' she thought to herself as she looked at the others on the table once more while she took out her harp and adjusted it's strings carefully.

So this is the last job, huh? Varis asked himself inside of his head as he continued to stare at the counter that he was situated at, taking another one of his short sighs that seemed to breathe an aura of darkness -- or a "get-the-hell-away-from-me" aura -- around him. That's what I told myself last time... Varis scoffed at himself as he slowly raised his head, his eyes wandering until they found the bartender. Varis slowly raised his hand up in the air, his thumb, index, and middle finger slowly closing together until finally, when his hand was at the apex of that which he could reach, Varis snapped his fingers.

As soon as Varis snapped his fingers, however, he couldn't help but have that same feeling which he had felt earlier of everyone staring at Varis -- even though in likelihood, no one was staring at the half-elf. Varis began to scowl and sneer at himself inside of his head, throwing numerous insults at himself as the bartender moved over to him. As the bartender stood in front of Varis, Varis' eyes began to move up and down over the man, assessing him for what he was worth -- how tall he was, his body type, useless information such as his hair or eye color -- for a few seconds until Varis' eyes finally reached the bartender's gaze.

"Water," Varis said in a rather pompous tone, causing the bartender to raise his eyebrow not at his tone, but instead, at his choice of beverage. The bartender continued to stare at Varis with the same look for a few more seconds, causing Varis' gaze to instead turn into a glare. "I said water. Did you not hear me?" The bartender merely shrugged before turning around, grabbing a pitcher of water and a small cup, and placing the two in front of him.

"You don't look like you're from around here," The bartender said. Varis noted how he backed up subtly, almost as if he felt a sense of danger from the half-elf. "You new in town?"

"What does it look like to you?" Varis asked, his tone rather angry sounding and unfriendly. A few seconds of silence passed before Varis opened his mouth once more. "Yes, I'm not from around here, as you can clearly tell from my garments... what does it matter to you?"

"Just asking," The bartender said, seemingly not deterred by Varis' tone and pompous way of speaking. "If you want some money, or perhaps want to get a bearing of your surroundings, perhaps you should go on and take a quest," The bartender raised his finger and pointed towards a nearby table, where a variety of people sat at. "Over there if you want to go," Varis looked over his shoulder at the nearby table before turning back to the bartender, glaring at him once more.

I have no idea where the target is located at... perhaps taking that quest would be a good idea after all... Varis thought in his head as he took out two coins from his purse of coins and placed it on the counter top. Although... working with people sounds like more of a problem than anything else... Varis dropped his eyes down to his cup of water.

"Leave me be for now," Varis stated, causing the bartender to meekly shrug as he grabbed the two coins and calmly walked away to attend to some other person. Varis slightly moved his head over his shoulder, not to catch a better glimpse of the table, but instead, to hopefully listen on to their conversation. He didn't want to join a group so hurriedly full of people he didn't even know -- nor did he even want to join a group.

Reaching the outskirts of town, Sana took a deep breath and began to brush the layers of sand from her body, shaking out her mantle as she did so before taking a good look around. Seeing the guards, she slightly perked a thin brow before making her way slowly through Zaphere, keeping her head down but her eyes darting about quickly as she searched for some place of refuge for the evening. The trek through the surrounding desert had been a bit more than she would have liked, her throat was parched and she needed it sated. Her flask had run dry earlier in the day and she cursed herself inwardly. I should have known better than to bring such a small supply of water through a forsaken land such as this. Shrugging inwardly she continued her pace through the city until her eyes fell on The Oasis. “Oh well, this place is as good as any,” she muttered to herself before pushing her way passed the crowd outside and into the tavern proper.

Walking over to the bar she leaned over and attempted to get the barkeeps attention, but to no avail. Her voice was quiet, her throat dry and the noise in the establishment was anything but peaceful. Raising her hand she tried to flag him down but his attentions were elsewhere. Finally loosing what little patience she snapped. “Hey! Think you could stop for five seconds and get me something to drink?” she yelled in a low toned raspy voice. The bartender shot her a look and walked over to her, looking slightly agitated when he did.

“What do you want?” he quipped.

“Hrm, I want a long night in silk sheets, the key to the city and food fit for a king. What I will settle for is water that doesn’t look like it was pulled from a mud hole,” she stated quickly. The bartender looked at her confused for a moment, her voice had been so serious with her request it took him a moment to realize she was being sarcastic. Letting out a slight laugh he served her some water and shook his head.

“Attitudes like that could get you killed.”

“And?” she whispered before she downed the water and tossed a few copper pieces on the bar top. Turning around, she rested her elbows on the bar top as she examined the room. Typical, she thought to herself. It was a tavern; she really shouldn’t have thought it would be much more. Though it was nicer than some she had seen but it wasn’t grand on any scale. At least the water was pure. Noticing the billboard out of the corner of her eye, she wandered over to it. Slowly turning her body this way and that to weave through the crowd.

“Lost child, bounties, find my goat? What kind of place is this?” she whispered quietly before her eyes fell on a piece of parchment that described what seemed to be a simple enough job, find an artifact, bring it back, get paid. Seems simple enough, she thought being cringing inwardly when she realized it stated that payment for each person, meaning more than one. “I hate groups but I ain’t hunting down no goat,” she grumbled before turning around and seeking out the aforementioned table on the advertisement.

It didn’t take long to find it, a table out of the way, a wizard sitting there with a group of people. Taking a deep breath she slowly pushed her way through the crowd and wandered over to the group. She nodded respectfully to those there as she pulled up a chair, bowing slightly to the wizard. “Sana Rawn, marksman, at your service,” she said quietly before seating herself on the edge of her chair, refusing to relax as she sat there.

The wizard was a little surprised at how many people went to his little table and in so little time. He was hoping for one more person though ,but this will have to do. He cleared his throat to get everyones attention. "As some of you know, the ones who read the parchment on the bulletin, that I need you all to join together for a task. The reason why I require so many bodies for this task is ,because the job might just be that difficult. This isn't as simple as it sounds. This ancient city is now abandoned yes, but new occupants might have moved in and the traps within could be numerous." He paused handing out scrolls that gave the same info as the one handed to Vivian. "The Mages guild is paying you all 1000 gold,... Each. All you have to do us retrieve the chalice illustrated in the scroll. If you still don't know why it requires so many people, you will find out soon enough on your own."

Vivian's eyes darted around her as she looked to her 'companions', they looked reliable and strong. She was relieved to see a dwarf had come to the table. He would most certainly be useful in combat. Then there was the giant tower of a man. He was pretty big, and looked like he could handle himself. Then there was this elf, who was a bard. Bards can be useful in some cases but she wasnt sure if this was one of them. Of course there was the marksman too. She sighed and shrugged. "Alright I'm in wizard. Do we get a map anyways?" The wizard nodded and slid a map forward. The abandoned city was about fifty miles away from the city. The entrance was stuck on the inside of some large plateau. She noticed a lot of geography was drawn about the map and then just handed it to the dwarf. "You dwarves are experts in geography so best to leave it in the hands who can understand it." She added. She looked back to the wizard. "When do we start?"

The wizard then handed out another parchment. "I know it would be rude to send the lot of you out into the dangerous sands without certain supplies. Take this to the stable man, his name is Zane. He will give you a wagon full of the desired number of bed rolls, tents, food and water. I also threw in a couple bottles of my favorite mead from the Oasis. Once you get the wagon. You can all hurry off to get the chalice. We don't want to waste the time given to us." He then lifted up his satchel. He then made his way around the table. "Just remember, take the chalice to the mages guild and you will be paid." He then left them to their thoughts.

Vivian looked to her new friends. Lowering her hood to reveal her silver hair and dark skin. "Well when do you all want to start? Now or rest a bit and then go?" She asked.

'I don't honestly mind' The bard smiled at the drow elf as she scratched her hair lightly. She finally finished adjusting her harp and looked at its strings tightness, finally placing it on the table lightly as if she didn't want anyone at all to touch it. She then sighed and gotten herself deep in thought as she thought of the gold that she could receive in this quest if she doesn't screw up.

'but it will depend on the others'

Bjoric grumbled at the drow handing him the map, forcing him to place his drink on the table. Looking at the map he saw the he saw the plateau marked on the map, the distance looked to be about three days travel. But he suspected travelling through the desert could make it take longer.

At the elfs non-comital anwser to the drows question, he barked "Grow a spine ye pansy." Stuffing the map into his pack he took another drink from his tankard. "I need to sleep in a bed that's not pitching about like a drunken bull, and food that wasn't vomited up by a pig." With that he made his way back to the bar, calling to the bar keep for food.

Ellyn just laughed at his remark in embarrassment, she liked flowers but she didn't expect to be called a pansy out of all things. 'looks like nobody will enjoy my company after all... oh well' She smiled, trying to cover up her embarrassment from what he called her.

Eventually she looked at the bar in worry, wanting to give back the tankard the barkeeper gave her so she could drink her beer. But was worried to because of the dwarf, she sure as hell did not want to be called a pansy again, in the end she sat down and decided to think up of some poetry to give her new-found but weird allies some hope and some fortune upon the upcoming quest.

"A drow," Varus began, speaking softly and quietly so as to not allow anyone to hear him. "... A dwarf... a marksman... and a useless elf..." Varus shifted his head over his shoulder once more as to catch a glimpse of the party, his eyes scanning over the party of four, with his eyes lingering on the drow before he turned around.

Drow could be some trouble... Varus thought as he grabbed the pitcher of water and gently tilt it to pour water into his cup, setting it down after a few seconds. No matter, I reckon I could kill the drow if she tries to do anything... probably, Varus grabbed the cup of water, tilting his head backwards and downed the cup of water quickly before setting it down. Without any other unnecessary actions, Varus turned around on the stool and hopped off, walking over to the group before stopping parallel next to the drow. Swiftly, Varus took out his dagger and stabbed it into the table without even so much as looking at the others who would soon to become his "allies."

"Varus Tyrparin at your service," He said in the same pompous voice he had used to talk to the bartender.

Sana listened to what had to be said and leaned back in her chair slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest.Well I had wanted to get a good night's rest before we began but I guess I can sleep in the wagon. Sooner we're done the better, she thought to herself as she leaned forward and shrugged.

"Anytime is good for me," she muttered aloud. "Tonight or tomorrow, either way." She would have added more but as she looked over her companions for this journey she wondered if it would just go in one ear and right out the other.

Perking a brow at the ensuing treatment towards the elf she shook her head. Rising from her seat she took a step to the side and pushed her seat in "I ain't leaving without eating first though," she started flatly before wandering over to the ba ignoring the dagger in the table.

Walking up next to the dwarf she resisted the urge to use his head as an arm rest. "You know you have to work with that pansy and trust she has your back. I thought even dwarves had that much common sense. I guess I gave you more credit than is due," she stated coldly as she leaned down to look him in the eye.

Tossing some coins on the bar she eyed the tender. "The pipsqueeks meal is on me," she said before turning on her heels and walking over to a clear table and waving the barmaid over.

Outside the city, an abandoned orchard waved in a light evening breeze, the cider-tart odor of spoiled citrus radiating into the muggy desert air surrounding the once treasured assembly of trees. Not far away was the high fencing of a compound that belonged to bandits, and from inside came the sound of raucous festivities. Why not? Barrats thought. Every day you've avoided death by the hangman's noose or on the end of a guardsman's sword is a cause for celebration when you've lived the life of a bandit.

At the gates there were various outlaws and hanger-ons milling around, some of them drinking, some attempting to stand guard, and all of them in a constant state of argument. To the left of the compound, the orchard rose to a small parched hill peak and on it sat a lookout tending to a small fire. Sitting tending a fire isn't the quite the desired position for a lookout, but, otherwise, he was one of the few on this side of the compound who seemed to be taking his job seriously. Certainly, they'd failed to post any scouting parties. Or if they had, then the scouting parties were lounging under a palm somewhere, blind drunk, because there was no one to see Barrats and the dozen or so men appointed to him as they crept closer, approaching a man, who was crouching behind a crumbling sandstone wall, keeping watch on the compound.

Barrats and his aide, Fel, rode a little ahead, side by side, as was their preference, happy to be with one another and pleased to be within sight of what might be another opportunity to restock their provisions and gain some insight into their destination, each undulating with the slow, steady rhythm of their horses. Both rode high and proud in the saddle despite the long, arduous journey. They might have been advancing in years – both were nearing what was considered middle age to the high-bloods – but it would not do to be seen slouching. Nevertheless they came slowly: their mounts were chosen for their strength and stamina, not speed, and tethered to each was an ass, laden with supplies.

Behind them came Roal, who had inherited the bright, dancing eyes of his mother, his father Fel's colouring and bone structure, and the impulsiveness of both. He would have liked to gallop ahead and climb the slopes of the nearby dunes to the compound to announce the impending attack,but instead trotted meekly behind, respecting his both father's and supervisor's wishes for a modest approach. Every now and then he swatted the flies from his face with his crop and thought that a gallop would have been the most effective way to rid himself of them.

As the group neared their target, Barrats got a better look at him. A round-faced elf, a little shabby, and probably too fond of the grog himself, if Fel's guess was correct. This was the man who, according to their contacts at Zaphere, was good at loosening tongues, though he'd looked like he'd have problems loosening his own drawers.

She looked to everyone as she thought of this poetry and tried to make up some good rhymes, but she kept scrapping it in her head because she thought it was not good enough to be a piece of poetry, eventually she stood up and sat back down quickly. Thinking nobody would have pen and ink here or it is but just hoarded somewhere.

'everyone is soooo freaky...'

In the end Ellyn got up and walked to the bartender to ask for pen and ink so she could write her poetry. Hoping he would say yes, the moment he nodded he gave her pen and ink, thus she thanked him and returned to her seat to start writing the poetry.

Hugh was taken aback a little by how quickly they accepted them as their questors. No interview, like most high end, high risk, high profit quests. He stood silent, fading in and out of the conversation. The trauma of his last 20 years would come back to him in these little lulls of time between jobs. With a sudden cringe and grimace, he shook his head and brought himself back into the conversation, back to the current world.

He noted the dwarf, who seemed older and most likely more experienced than he. He had great respect for the dwarves. A great race and civilization, born into hard work and toil. He had less respect for just about all other races, especially elves. Creatures born into privilege, never working the soil, or toiling under the hot sun and in the dirt like the humans. But many humans were born into the same kind of privilege.

Hugh was annoyed by the young elf whom came up and stabbed his knife into the table. The action caused him to give an instinctive low growl, usually found menacing and intimidating to most, but not pricks. A very barbaric looking man was always underestimated by an uptight prude, and Hugh had already formulated the opinion that this elf was a pompous prick, a level up from uptight prude.

"I say eat now and start in the morning. Fuck it all." Came his unholy language, as he turned and headed over to the bar.

He grabbed a stool, from the selection, too vigorously resulting in it being destroyed. It fell completely apart in his hands. He was confused beyond belief. It was something that happened to him every now and then. He was very capable of gentleness and virtue, but the trail had made him exasperated easily. He noted that the bartender was distracted by the drow female's request and he threw the pieces out the doorway.

Finally, he sat down next to the dwarf. "Greetings from one old man to another." He motioned to the bartender, and asked for whatever was currently being served with a cup of strong lager.

Drizzak

---

The door to the tavern swung open, letting in the light of the outside world for a moment before swinging shut once more. A few sets of eyes turned to regard the peculiar shape that entered, and the shape stared back. A shrill, frantic voice called out at a particularly intrigued patron. It sounded like steel scraping granite.

"What you look at, huh?! You never see'd pretty dragon 'afore?"

The sound of cloth shifting dampened the sound of the waddling that got louder as the shape neared the table the group was situated around. Drizzak had already read up on the posting. He knew where he needed to be. From beneath the table, a sudden bump came. A few seconds of silence passed before a small, green creature, garbed in red cloth, wrestled his way onto a stool. A comically oversized sack sat on his back and a shabby-looking crossbow lay tied to him with dirty frayed string.

Once Drizzak had settled, he took a few moments of wobbling upon his stool to look at his company. As he came to balance himself, his crooked teeth shone through his wide smile. So many different shapes and colors in this group. Such a strange group for a dragon to rule over, but it would have to do.

"Drizzak hear you needing help. Drizzak give you power of dragon. He help."

The moment Ellyn sat down to start writing she saw what had happened and she tried to keep calm, obviously not knowing what to do. She decided to continue writing the poem but it quickly turned to throwing tables and despising other races. Ellyn eventually sighed, thinking she will never be able to make a poem if all this hoo-hah was just going to happen right in front of her.

As of now she sighed and looked out the window. Thinking deeply about what to put, giving up slowly due to the sheer distraction that is laying out in front of her.

She eventually spots the little goblin and awwes, Ellyn found his little dragon costume rather cute and eventually complimented him upon it.

'oh, hello' she smiled at him 'You are such a little cutie with your dragon costume on!'