When the curse spread across the Old Country, the land that connected with Ruritania had been swallowed by a swamp. It had taken exactly half of The Mountain tavern with it, and at least three customers. Only two had risen, the other crushed beyond revival by the roof. Although the floor had been thoroughly swallowed by the murky waters, the roof had risen above the surface and formed a barely slanting platform. The owner of the Tavern, a large and well muscled Orcish woman, had been loath to accept defeat at the hands of a mere curse and so had precariously balanced three tables and several chairs on the tiles of the collapsed roof. Business was doing surprisingly well despite all that had happened, and with the undead on one side of the tavern and the alive on the other, fights were at an all time low. Nobody alive wanted to risk dying on Old Country ground.

It was nearly midnight when the group reached the tavern, well past the organised time, and they were welcomed into their temporary lodgings with nothing more than a bleary eyed grimace and a push towards their rooms. The best had already been taken, and the only remaining room was missing half a wall and all customary furniture. They were haughtily told that they could 'go sleep in the bloody swamp' if they were fussy, and it didn't take long for them to settle down (albeit a little resignedly).
"Two weeks. I can't believe we've got to stay here for two, long weeks." The youngest of the group began to complain, and was soon joined by his elder, a short and stocky female elf.
"I just don't understand why we couldn't have been sent on that mission to Bella! No, y' have to go t' th' swamps and mingle wi' the locals, waitin' fer a bunch o' fools who'll ne'er even turn up." The elf looked pleased with herself as her friend laughed at the over-the-top imitation of their commander, but they were cut short by the taller human female.
"Shut it and go to sleep, if you don't stop your moaning I'll make sure you come back here for another month after this to secure the borders. Count yourselves lucky."
"But Morro-" He was cut off before he'd completed her name.
"You'll call me Knight Aramato, subordinate. And I said shut it. Go to sleep."
Not another word was spoken until the sun rose, and the Three Nations soldiers woke for another day.

Kij'hara had left the city three weeks before, to make her wandering way to The Mountain tavern. She was not in any particular hurry. The poster had been lacking in any true information - a ploy, perhaps, to attract people with an offer of gold and trap them in the job. Kij didn't care - if she found it appealing she would take it. If she didn't, she would walk away. She crested the hill and surveyed the landscape before her, scanning her eyes over the thick mat of trees. A line ran through the leaves where the lush green colour gave way to a greyish hue, and to the far left she could see the forest sinking down into swampland. A lone building stood half demolished in the distance. Two miles away, maybe three. With determination, Kij'hara turned and made her way towards The Mountain tavern.

Sam Duval went mostly unnoticed as he made his way to The Mountain tavern. Periodically he would pass a traveler, but none paid him any heed - perhaps he looked too much like a beggar in his current hooded robe. He was still in Ruritania, so he felt that he would be wise to keep his identity hidden until he reached his destination. It was still extremely dark out - perhaps around 3:00 AM. The moon was going down again, and the starlight was only barely enough for him to see the road.

He could smell the swamp from where he was, and it was still a bit over an hour's walk to reach The Mountain tavern. A massive mosquito landed on his shoulder, then mostly fell off, onto the ground. Its legs were still attached to Sam's cloak, and he flipped a Two of Clubs around between his fingers a couple times before shuffling it back into his deck.

Further walking eventually revealed the figure of the tavern in the shadows, gleaming with lantern light. Sam hurried his pace and saw that the place was an absolute wreck. Probably tended by a fat ogre or something. This place is a total dump, he thought to himself. The stench wasn't getting any better, either.

He walked around the tavern once, looking through all of the windows as he went, looking for anybody who seemed vaguely knightly in their beds. He wanted to make certain that it was the right place - and he wanted to make certain that they were competent. The poster he had read hadn't made any mention of the tavern looking like it'd been hit by a bomb, but for all he knew, that could have happened after the posting was made.

He found his mark at 4:40 AM - too late to bother renting a room. He waited outside the tavern on the Undead side - out of the jurisdiction of Ruritanian authorities - and stripped himself of his robe, which didn't even belong to him in the first place. The lantern light mixed with the moonlight and starlight, and eventually the dawn, illuminating his painted face in a most ghostly fashion and highlighting the card suits that adorned it.

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Edwyn's mouth had twitched when he read the flyer, the ghost of a smile. Money, adventure, a righteous cause, the flyer had practically sung to him. The tavern where they were to meet wasn't even too far away, maybe a few days travel by foot.

Of course, if I succeed in this, I'll be able to afford a horse.

Now, as approached the Mountain Tavern, that phantom smile had graduated to a full face grin. He was in need of money, in need of some decent travelling companions, and, most importantly, in dire need of adventure. The promise of all three had been practically mouth-watering. Now that he was, perhaps a few hundred yards from the tavern, his heart began to flutter. He stopped for a moment, taking a drink from his waterskin. He decided he should double check his gear. He wouldn't want to be looking unprofessional around the others. Of course, that was exactly what he was, but they didn't need to know that, did they?

So, he polished his sword and double checked the buckles on his armor. When he was certain that all was well, he bounded towards the tavern with a smile on his face.

Caractacus Dool stalked up to the tavern's front door, flyer clutched in hand. It was somewhere before dawn, and he was feeling strangely optimistic, despite the darkness of night. Heroics would be a good start. Get a necromancer in the public eye, and maybe folks wouldn't hang them on sight. Or at least use softer rope. But until then he was just a regular wizard taking a regular wizard job.

Caractacus waited outside the door. He was afraid to seem rude by barging in so early in the morning. He would simply have to wait on his lonesome a bit longer. With a nervous laugh, he thought, 'Not like I'm not used to it...' Caractacus wrapped his robe around himself to ward of the slight bite of cold, and leaned up against the tavern's outside wall. He watched outward, peering into the darkness to search for any other newcomers like himself.

The morning air was thick and heavy, warmth seeping in to what should have been a cooling breeze. Kij'hara could see the dark silhouette of the tavern against the grey of the swamp, only barely illuminated by the sickly light of the dawning sun and a single lantern by the doorway. No lights shone from the inside, and by instinct she was hesitant to leave the sparse cover of the trees. From the angle Kij was at, she could see the gaping maw of the tavern where the wall had broken away into the swamp, and where the roof rose above the water level to provide a slightly sloping platform. Perhaps, if she just got onto the platform... She considered her possibilities, felt the tug of sleep at the corner of her mind, and began to make her way reluctantly towards the tavern.

The ground was softer without the reinforcement of the tree roots, and she felt her footsteps sink into the soil with each step. Although the Lich's magic could not reach further than the boundaries of the Old Country, the water from the swamp knew no limitations, and seeped into the ground to soften it. It disguised her footsteps, yes, but she was not happy to be leaving such clear footsteps. No matter, she told herself, for a tavern was not a place to keep secrets or to hide. Her mind wandered as she thought of the task at hand; to find this Knight, and with her, the needed information.

It wasn't until she was well into the open that she realised her mistake. In the shadow of the tavern - there. The faint outline of a person. She halted in her steps, stopped partly by fear, partly by annoyance. How could she have been so careless? And what person in their right mind would be hiding in the shadows of a tavern at this time? She glanced back behind her, gauging the distance between her and the shelter of the woods and how long it would take her to cover the distance. The odds were not in her favour, with the building only metres away. With reluctance and wariness, she turned back to the figure. "Hello, who's there?"

Caractacus whiled away the time, planning and rehearsing what he would say. It'd been a while since he had to have a proper conversation with someone, and he didn't want to mess things up. 'Greetings' would be a good start. Or maybe just 'Hello'. He didn't want to seem to formal. Or maybe he did, and it would help his image as a wizard. Caractacus's thoughts chased through his head in much the same manner, and as time went on, his eyelids lowered, and he started to doze.

Jumping suddenly, Caractacus was snapped awake by a voice calling out. "Hello, who's there?" He looked around quickly for the source of the voice, and saw it right in front of him. A slith, approaching the tavern. Staring, he was stunned for a moment. He hadn't anticipated being approached from the outside. Caractacus threw his hand up in a clumsy wave, and tried to make a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "G-greetings! Or, uh...hello! I'm C-Caractacus, w-wizard, and uh..." He trails off. He had no idea who this was or what she might want. Better not to say too much. "Wh-what brings you here?"

Sam heard footsteps. He heard shuffling. He heard voices, too, and he grew curious. Most curious. Perhaps the others had arrived already - or perhaps the authorities. He moved silently to the corner of the tavern and listened in on everything he heard. There wasn't much.

The voice of a slith came to him, asking somebody to identify themselves. The species' voices were quite distinctive - he remembered a number of them had come to him during his early years working under the King of Armitas. They still seemed to sound very human, but there was a slightly colder feel to them, he felt - and he wished he had such a beautiful style of voice for himself. Or at least the opportunity to learn to mimic it.

These were clearly adventurers. The voice didn't sound weak-hearted to him like so many of the peasantry and nobility had. He felt that he should... Welcome them. A quick dart around the tavern gave him the opportunity to climb on top of what remained of the roof, where he stood silently in the moonlight, very intentionally casting a weak shadow down upon the one who had first spoken - the lizard. He would get to know them by their initial responses. If they drew weapons or ran, he knew that they would be of some (perhaps limited) use to him.

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Her focus was fully on the figure by the building when the shadow fell upon her. Her heart sank. An ambush! Kij dug her claws into the ground, spread her legs out into a defensive position. She doubted she'd have a chance of walking away from a fight against two opponents, but she'd be damned if she didn't take one down with her. Her hand instinctively grasped the handle of her knife, she felt her claws sliding into the familiar notches along the hilt, felt the familiar texture reassure her. "Don't try anything, I'll plant an arrow in your chest before you can draw your weapon." Cool, full of malice, her voice showed none of her feelings of fear and did not betray the lie it hid - she hoped.

She was loath to take her eyes away from the two figures, but the forest called to her, sang for her to turn and run into its dark safety. No, running would be like signing her own death warrant. With a roughness that could only come from a lack of practice, she pushed her scales outwards to make herself seem bigger and more threatening. The space between them seemed to fill with a waiting, uncertain air, and only with the silence did she allow herself to process what he had said. He sounded... uncertain, afraid even? It didn't make sense, unless it was an act put on to lure the unwary into a false sense of security. No, she would not fall for it!
"What business is it of yours?" The words came out more as a snarl, and she took a moment to regain her control. "If you are so interested in what I am here for, you could do me the courtesy of telling me why you're lurking in the shadows at this ungodly time."
A small nod, almost undetectable, signalled she was addressing the figure on the roof - "And the same goes for you."

Caractacus didn't even notice the shadow, he was too focus on studying the Slith. He hadn't met any in person, and perhaps now was the only time to take mental notes on her anatomy and physiology. She had taken an odd stance. Was it defensive? Of course! He had been all on his own outside the tavern, he must seem like some sort of creep. 'Of course, I kind of am a creeper...' he thinks, as he prepares to take a step forward, further into the light.

Caractacus was interrupted when the Slith spoke up. "Don't try anything, I'll plant an arrow in your chest before you can draw your weapon." He froze. His mind started racing; should he go on the attack, with magic missiles? Or try to talk things out? If things didn't work out right here right now, it would mean back to a life of exile, something he couldn't stand. No violence then. He would formulate a response that would be both charming and disarming.

As he worked out what he would say to the Stranger, she cut him off as he was about to speak. "What business is it of yours?"

"Um--I--" He starts to stammer out a response, but she continued.

"If you are so interested in what I am here for, you could do me the courtesy of telling me why you're lurking in the shadows at this ungodly time." She nodded upward, at something else. "And the same goes for you."

Caractacus looks up. He didn't even notice the man on the roof. He couldn't have, from his original position leaned against the tavern. Perhaps he was what set her off. Caractacus sets down his staff, and raises his hands. "I-I assure you, miss, or uh, madam, or...anyways, I assure you that me and him aren't--that is, I don't kn-know who he is. I was just w-waiting here because I arrived quite early in the morning, and I, aheh, didn't want to seem r-rude by barging in to demand a room." He lets out a nervous laugh.

The clown was satisfied. Very satisfied. Both voices had responded in a manner that represented their nature. The human was a coward, of course, but his claim of his use of magic meant that he might be marginally useful if he were an adventurer. If he weren't, he could be bullied into following Sam anyway. The Slith was smart, too - not the sort to enjoy confrontation, and more than willing to try to make a kill even if things weren't going her way.

Sam Duval slowly raised his hands outwards to the sides, palms facing the lizard to indicate that he was unarmed, and he began speaking. His voice was slightly too high pitched for his shape, and perhaps a bit too cheerful. He spoke with confidence, with a tiny hint of venom.

"I could ask you the same thing... And you might note that I'm not exactly hiding. I'm looking for suspicious figures, you see, and you happen to be one. Not the sort of suspicious person I would expect to be sneaking around out here - and considerably more alive - but suspicious nonetheless."

Sam tilted his head, allowing some moonlight to fall across the slith, which revealed the presence of some weaponry. A hunting bow, perhaps? She hadn't attacked him yet, so she clearly wasn't a bounty hunter, but yet she was relatively well equipped.

"You're here about the job, aren't you...? Hm, yes, you do seem to be that sort... And you, down there. 'Wizard'. It's your turn to tell us why you're here. The rest of it."

Peering closer at the man of the rooftop, Caractacus was surprised by his face, and his state of dress. The man looked like a clown, costume and all. It was almost comical were it not for the poisonous edge to the man's words. Caractacus once again found himself having to formulate unexpected answers for unexpected questions. It was very tiring. He supposed he could use something similar to his original plan.

"Well, I'm-I'm here for a job. Like you. He looks at the slith. "And you, maybe, if you are here for that, that is. Maybe. S-so why not we all just go inside, and get food, and drink, and wait for the guy who's hiring? No tr-troubles. Heh." He tried another smile, this one seemed more genuine. Caractacus gestured at the doorway. By now it was only very early in the morning, someone was bound to be awake, and a witness, in there.

Their small movements made her flinch. Any raise of the hand could release a weapon; any step, another danger. She tilted her head slightly to the side, regarded the two unlikely 'adventurers'. They weren't the type of people she had expected to be interested in this work. Though still wary, she began to relax her almost painful grip on the hilt of the dagger, and partially flattened the scales back down. She knew no display of size or strength would be of use when dealing with the clown, at least. He seemed... too perceptive, too poisonous and dangerous a character. She didn't trust him; she doubted she ever would trust him. As for the other...

"You seem weak, and a coward. Why would you wish to sign up for the job?" Kij turned her head to the first figure with little more than a subtle twitch of her head. The question was not meant to offend, the statement not said in a way that was meant to insult, but was instead the summary of her perceptions - whether they were accurate or not. She waited silently for the reply, oblivious.

Though the clown troubled her, she ignored him for now, and the suggestions to go inside. She would see what the trickster did first before she made her move, reluctant to trap herself inside with potential enemies. They said they were here for a reason, but it was easy to say one thing and for the opposite to be true. No matter what happened, she had to stay alert, she had to be cautious.

Caractacus takes a step back. Coward? Is that the impression he gave? It certainly wasn't a flattering description, but it was better than outright hostility and lynching. He shook his head. "I am t-taking this job because it's the right th-thing to do. W-we have to stop the lich and his uh, undead. And all the other bad stuff." He nodded. That would be a sufficient explanation, right? Something a hero would say, surely.

Caractacus leans down to pick up his staff. "Besides, I d-don't need to be physically strong wh-when I have my mind and my m-magic. It will p-protect me." He once again tried a smile. He's not very confident looking. "I underst-st-stand I don't make a good first impression, h-heh, but I am truly quite capable."

Caractacus was about to turn to go inside, when a thought struck him. "W-wait. You never answered my question. What are y-you here for?"

Sam looked down at the trembling man in the robe. It was pitiful, but then, most wizards were. Bookworms were like that, and most wizards were bookworms, by nature of the position. Admirable in a way, though. Sam was curious as to how his performances could have been enhanced had he spent the time to sit down and learn some magic of his own, but there was no time to find that out anymore. He answered the wizard in the Slith's place. "She's here for the job - the same as you and I, I assume. Or she's here to kill you and is trying to determine whether she can do the job. But honestly, she had her chance for that on the approach, so that probably isn't it."

Sam walked, one foot directly in front of the other, down one of the remaining roofing beams that supported the thatching, and dropped down in front of the inn door, which he opened and entered. A sense that he should probably act with some degree of mild courtesy struck him as he closed the door behind him, and he reopened it, sticking his head out for a moment to speak.

"That knight is probably awake by now, or will be shortly. When you're done pissing yourself, wizard, feel free to join me. And you as well, whatever-your-likely-extremely-difficult-to-pronounce-name-is."

The door closed again.

She watched the jester go with a grimace, or the Slith's equivalent to a grimace. Though doubtful that she would ever be able to trust the man - crucial on such a job - she was hesitant to give up so soon. She doubted that, if this was no good, she would have the strength to return to civilisation. The ways of humans, orcs, even Slith tired her. But no, she would not give up on this so soon, first she must consider all the information.

For a final time before entering the tavern, she looked towards the forest and flexed her claws, felt them sink into the mud and earth. With a deep inhale of the marsh scented air, she made her way over to the doorway. There was a light in the window, weak in comparison to the now rising sun that peered over the tree tops. Two fire drakes flitted in the dark sky above and for a fleeting moment she felt a longing, but she soon turned away and grasped for the door handle.

With the door half ajar, about to step in, she faltered in her stride and turned back to the wizard. "If that is your true reason for wanting to fight the Lich, then that is commendable. But it will be dangerous..." Kij's head tilted to the side, reptilian eyes regarding him piercingly. "So you must be strong enough, or it could be fatal for all of us. You understand?" She didn't wait for a reply, but instead walked through the door and shut it behind her. Tiredness finally seeping into her muscles, she welcomed the chair and slumped down, looking about the tavern as she did so.

Caractacus scowled as the jester went inside. He was hardly pissing himself. He just had some trouble formulating words was all. Anyone would after so long in isolation, really. He would have to think of a few choice words for the jester next time he saw him. Which would most likely be soon, as they were working the same job.

Caractacus then looked to the slith, she seemed at least a little more at ease, which was decent news. She took a look back at the forest before approaching him. Or the door. Definitely the door. Caractacus watched her approach, but didn't speak. He instead waited for a response to the question he posed. Whether or not the jester answered for her, it would be better to hear it from the slith herself. She was about to head in when she stopped, and spoke.

"If that is your true reason for wanting to fight the Lich, then that is commendable. But it will be dangerous..." She locked him with a gaze that shot through to his core, and continued. "So you must be strong enough, or it could be fatal for all of us. You understand?"

"I u-under-- The door slammed shut, cutting short his response. Caractacus sighed; he understood what it would take to succeed. It was all planned out, and as long as he followed the plan, nothing, not even the pit of fear sitting low in his stomach, would stop him from achieving his goals. Reassured, Caractacus pulled open the door, and slipped inside. He took a place close to, but not quite on, the undead side.

Sam Duval was sitting at a table inside, clowning around, so to speak. A group of groggy patrons had gathered around him to observe magic trick after magic trick and to partake in tarot readings. Caractacus entered the room shortly after Kij, and Sam found himself wondering exactly what was going through their minds. A flashy introduction like his own at that hour of morning may have put the two off-balance in a way, which he figured was a particularly good way to get them prepared for stressful situations. He very much doubted that they would make it far without a healthy degree of paranoia, regardless of whether it was directed toward himself or toward the undead.

A patron chose his cards, and Sam pulled them out to reveal the results. The Fool, The Devil, The Emperor, The World, The Magician, and the Wheel of Fortune. Sam himself never really cared much for this 'divination' method - it was roughly as accurate for determining one's path in life as sticking one's hand down a badger hole. Or, perhaps, even less so, as sticking one's hand down a badger hole nearly guarantees that one's hand will be bitten, which at least can be predicted, provided one isn't an absolute moron - which most of the tavern's patrons unfortunately were.

He eyed the other side of the tavern, where a couple undead were idly milling about, posing no real threat to anybody and serving the purpose of marking which side of the tavern one really shouldn't start a brawl on. They seemed about as useful as his future companions would be. Speaking of whom, why hadn't the Knight awoken yet...?

"Get up."
The elf groaned and lashed out clumsily. Her hand fell through the air and fell back to her side with a thump. Morro wasn't impressed.
"You've overslept, get up now." The knight moved over to the younger one and kicked the sheets off him with an idle flick of her foot. Groans filled the air. She watched them until she was sure they were stirring, then turned away with a curse. What had she done to deserve this mission? The weak light was already shining through the gap where half of the wall had gone missing, but it didn't matter whether or not they were late downstairs. Nobody had come, and nobody would come. Still, she had been charged with the two new recruits. If anything, she would use this time to toughen them up. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the youngest stumble into the door frame. They needed it.

"Full armour on, we're training before we eat." She beckoned to the rusted over suits of armour. The pair gawped at her incredulously.
"That's crazy! How are we supposed to do anything with food?" The elf demanded. The younger one laughed. Mistake.
"If you find each other so damn funny, why didn't you become comedians? Why are you here wasting Three Nation's time and resources?" They stared at her blankly, fear almost palpable in the air. Morro tutted with disgust and made her way towards the stairs, pushing the subordinates out of her way. "No, do what you wish. A jester would be more helpful than you." They stared at her back blankly, as she stormed downstairs. Today was going to be a bad day.

The downstairs of the tavern was buzzing with activity, unusual for this time. She hesitated at the entrance to the room, scanned it to find the source of the disruption. There, somebody dressed in bright clothes doing... Card tricks? She groaned incredulously, but quickly pulled herself together. Her armour weighed down on her, the Three Nations Cape pulling at her back. She didn't have the effort to hold herself up, and regretted putting it on in the first place. With difficulty, she walked over to the nearest table and sat down, beckoning for the bar tender. He knew what she wanted, and she sat back exhausted while she waited for her food.

Stealing furtive glances to the bar, Caractacus regretted not having any coin. His stomach grumbled with hunger, and his throat was parched from the long march to the tavern. He certainly couldn't play card games for money like the clown. Unless someone needed a pair of skeletons in the middle of the bar, he was out of luck. With a sigh, Caractacus took a seat at an empty table, and rested his staff against it.

Caractacus swung his gaze over the room, skating over the jester and his crowd, and latching onto an armored figure storming down the stairs. Could this be the knight he was to meet? He stared at the warrior as she took a table close to the staircase, across the living half of the room from him. Caractacus grabbed his staff, and stood. He slowly crossed the room and stopped, standing across the table from her. He spoke with his usual elocution and confidence.. "Uh...hi."

He stood there, letting the greeting stand in the air.

Sam heard the clinking and clicking of the Knight's armor as she trotted down the stairs. The Wizard had already taken notice and approached the woman, which meant that this was a particularly good moment to butt in. With a wave of his hand, the jester shooed away the other customers. "Sorry, all, but the show will have to continue some other time. I have business to attend to."

As one last 'trick', Sam lined up the cards remaining on the table, end to end, and swept the small box he kept them in across the wood. Each card neatly slid into the box without having to be picked up manually, and the customers politely clapped before returning to their drinks. That should give them something to talk about for a couple days other than the horrifying stench.

Sam wandered to the bar, where the Knight and the Wizard were waiting. The Lizard would likely be coming to join them shortly as well.

"I assume you're the knight in charge of the Lich job. "

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