"Are you sure? There is no way this rumor is false? A ruse to bait me out maybe?", Yashar asked, "I can't risk to be baited out by them and you know it". Despite trying his very best to look calm and confident, an experient observer would notice a note of both anger and despair on Yashar's voice.

"I... I wouldn't have came here if I had a doubt, s-sir", the little Skiurid said.

The skiurid was named Devon, in honor to Yashar's childhood friend. Yashar conjured the little squirrel by accident when trying a new spell, as a result the Skiurid lost it's ability to generate darkness by itself. The mage then proceeded to try out more spells on it's new summoned pet, granting him the ability to talk, think and some other minor things. More than a year passed since then, and Devon was now a spy for the mage who, in exchange for it's services, would summon the dark acorns that Devon needed to survive.

"They were gathered in a small room. Back of the tavern. Expensive, but they paid no money to be there", the skiurid talked fast and in short sentences, fast enough to test Yashar's tolerance, "Two guards were in the door to prevent people hearing it. And one dog. Tricking the dog was hard, he can smell me, I hope to get extra for fooling the—"

"Enough!", bursted the mage. If the information was real he had no time to waste and needed to form a plan. He couldn't risk himself to be baited out, but needed to directly intervene before the situation spiraled out of hand. "Repeat what you've heard. Calmly."

Devon took a breath and begun, "They were in the room. Four of them. Two big ones with big weapons and metal clothes. One small with pointy ears. He had a bow. And one tall and weird. He had no weapon, but had a shinny pendant. It was shinning without light." Devon slowly picked up speed up to his usual paced rhythm, "And there was one who did not belong. He was tall and his beard white. But he seemed young. He talked of a book made of skin. He knew the location and how to get there. He talked about old magic imprisioned in a room and of a powerful magic bound to the book. He gave the location to the quartet and talked on how he was working on dispelling some wards."

"Ok, leave now, I need to think", Yashar said pulling a small bag filled with dark acorns and throwing it to Devon "But don't wander too far, I might need you soon". He paced through the room torn between his options.

He knew he couldn't go to the ruins by himself. His tower was being watched. He couldn't see the watchers, or even who they were, but he knew someone, or something, was there. The second he decided to step outside of it and of it's magic protection he would be a dead man. On the other hand, his quest for the book was the reason why he was exiled from human society. This was his first solid lead in many years. And to have some other mage exhausting himself and his own resources to put down the wards was just too much of a perfect oportunity to let go.

"There must be something", he muttered to himself while searching through his books. He went through most of his library when he finally found it, "This! Thank you old friend." One partially burned book stood on Yashar's old hands, with a simple Communication scribled on it's cover. Inside that thin book, nothing but the guidelines for a single ritual was written.

The ritual had been created by Devon, right before his death, and was intended to be used as a way to send a message to a vast number of people. Devon never got around to finish it, so Yashar had to, despite being awful in creating rituals. The original would put one in a transcendent state, allowing them to travel as an energy towards anyone who shared similar desires, or were likely to answer positively to the request that led to the execution of the ritual.

However, Yashar never managed to make it work as intended. He did his very best, working around his own flaws with his limited knowledge of Emphaty and Blood Magic. The way the ritual would work would be fairly different. The life energy of another being would be subjugated to his will, and that energy would be pulled towards anyone who has a natural disposition to help him or his cause. After reaching it's target, the energy would engage in conversation, using of Empathy to read and understand the target's motivation and desires, which would in turn be used as leverage to increase the odds of the request being accepted. It mostly involved small fortunes, old relics or powerful weapons and create a bound that assured anyone who helped it's due pay. Thankfully, Yashar had enough of it to gather a small crew for himself. It wasn't only expensive to pay for the help, it was also expensive for casting. It would need the life energy of a magical being.

Yashar spent the rest of the night gathering his ingredients and formulating the plan. It would be simple: gather a small crew, give them some gear if needed and send them to fetch the book for him. Maybe have them kill the party who was being sent there as well. If he was lucky, they could even deal with that white bearded mage who seemed to know enough to cause him worries. With that in mind he went to sleep for the few hours he could afford.

The morning came soon, lighting up the dark room Yashar slept and waking him up. He woke up decided. What he would need to do next was not something he wanted nor was proud to, but rather what the situation forced him into.

He gathered his ingredients and set the ritual so he could start at any time. Putting on his robe, he left the room to look for Devon, the Skiurid which had become almost a friend to him. In all those years isolated, Devon had been the only one to keep the mage company. At least willingly.

Devon was resting near the fireplace, still half asleep, despite the light of day. "Wake up and come, I need your sevices once again". Hearing that, Devon quickly got up and followed the mage back to his dorm rooms. It wasn't common for his services to be needed with such a short space between them. Devon was half confused by the urgency in Yashar's voice and half excited at the chance of gathering more accorns.

Yashar opened the door, every muscle on his body tensing up with feelings he couldn't describe. He sat in front of the place where the ritual was set and Devon quickly followed. "Errm... What's all that?", asked the little roddent after climbing into the ritual table.

The wizard's movements were robotic. He grabbed Devon with one hand, with the other he broke his fragile neck. He held him upside down, slitting his throat while muttering an inaudible "I'm sorry". He continued with the ritual as if nothing had happened. He drained the little body of it's blood over a silver bowl, he threw the ingredients in it at the expected order and he said the words in the ancient tongue. A small dark orb floated over the bowl, now empty.

"For those who shall hear me, listen to what I say!", Yashar exclamated to noone at all. His voice echoing in the empty walls of the room. "I request your help! Aid me in my quest and you shall be greatly rewarded for your time. There is little I don't have. There is little I can't obtain. Aid me and whatever you can desire shall be yours!"

As soon as he fished the words, the dark orb absorbed Devon's body, becoming a dark silhouette of the dead Skiurid and left the room. Nothing but the silver bowl was left in the table. As the silhouette flew away, a single tear rolled through Yashar's face. It was done.

"Here comes my personal renaissance."

A scrawny half-elf was hooded as he walked into the capital of monsters, a dark scowl casting over his eyes and his robe riding the breeze as he walked. A new alibi was established in his mind to protect his true identity and to keep his family safe in the region where he once came from. A small, futuristic, alien-like saucer floated beside him, occasionally orbiting around his head. He noticed the civilians he passed by were all giving him an intimidating and unfriendly glare, which he expected. The recent war gave them a reason to not trust elves, humans, dwarves, and even gnomes. As he passed by a large tower, a loud voice boomed throughout the streets and roads, apparent to only him it seemed.

"For those who shall hear me, listen to what I say! I request your help! Aid me in my quest and you shall be greatly rewarded for your time. There is little I don't have. There is little I can't obtain. Aid me and whatever you can desire shall be yours!"

The half-elf heard this loud and clear. He looked up at the nearby tower, where he predicted the sound came from because of it's volume, and proceeded to it. The voice hopefully would accept his offer as an associate for whatever quest he had in store, and by how he made it sound, he had a lot to give away. Although the half-elf didn't know what he wanted from the voice, he came to a decision that he would decide during this quest, and if he was to die, his parting words would be to protect his family. As he reached the base of the tower, the saucer hid underneath the robe of the half-elf, very much intimidated by the overall darkness of the tower.

"Oh don't worry. Everything will be okay."

The half-elf knocked hard on the large door to the tower, knowing that he could very well be turned down because of his race and because of how he fought, but no matter what, it's worth a shot to ask.

"Oi, are you the voice I heard mate?"
@KRIEEEG

"Cuz when dem gits get lookin at ye, da real rucka' beginz."

In the town was a great mess off monsters all doing their shit daily. It wasn't a nice town, but it was a town nevertheless. Not like you can expect much from towns made by orcs and other dum gits. But these monsters still decided to live in an orderly fashion, and imitate the life of da humans and spikies. That makes em nuthin more than them, without the spiky's scruffy hair. Their natural ways thrown away for things like shops and public services. Laughable gits.

---

In the middle of the town, two figures caused a ruckus. The main road was clogged with monsters from all species, and had a hard time going anywhere in the sea of people, expect two individuals. Nobody dared to stand in Woggha's way, and they pushed the others around not bo crushed by the giant armored beast. Some stopped to inspect him, whislt others started pointing at his rider. And there were those who were swearing at them for being rude ***** and going throught town like they own the place. Grox looked down at the miserable scum, and occasionaly threw back a rock at some rude gits. They usually got knocked out at an instant. He didn't come here to listen to monsters whining. If it was up to him he would have ignored the whole town, or let Woggha loose in it, but that was not the case. Woggha's armor needed fixin and patchin, and this was the only place within a week's travel that had a respectable blacksmith. It's a wonder why some monsters capture dwarfs and make em work, instead of killing them on spot. A good orc sword is worth more than a human army.

The crowd began spreading out as the dou reached the town square. Grox signaled Woggha to stop, and stood up to look around. He was above most buidlings, and he could clearly see the town. From up above it didn't seem all that big, but it was quite the settlement on foot. He snored, and spit down at the floor level, hitting a swearing gnoll on the way. He shadowed his eyes with his hands to see better in the broad daylight, and looked around once more at the square. Behind a group of trolls he could make out an anvil symbol. "Zogin gits in da way. Dem betta get movin hella fast!" He pulled woggha's leash and controlled the giant beast to make it's way towards the blacksmith. The people around jump in shock as the tower of flesh began moving again, and some smaller gobbos went screaming out of the way so they won't get crushed. it was only a few steps before the Wpggha suddenly started looking around as if something happened to him, and acted in a weird way. He was turning all directions, scaring the living shit out of everyone in the square, they tought the beast went beserk, and most of the smaller species ran away. Orks, trolls, and even some gnolls laughed at their fleeing bretheren, and continued to do their daily chores while making jokes about the puny gits. But Grox wasn't happy at all, he was trying his hardest to stop Woggha. "Oi, oi! Wat is up wiv ye? Get ya mood down ye git. Oi!" Grox pulled Woggha's leash hard with both hands, and slowed down the confused Woggha. It took a few seconds for him to calm down but it hapenned eventually. Thought he was still confused, he was only looking around suspiciously, but stopped raging around. Grox was about to say something mean again, but he was interrupted by a booming voice.

"For those who shall hear me, listen to what I say! I request your help! Aid me in my quest and you shall be greatly rewarded for your time. There is little I don't have. There is little I can't obtain. Aid me and whatever you can desire shall be yours!"
He looked down at Woggha who was now looking in one general direction. A tall tower in the middle of town with many small outcrops. A real wizard's tower for ya. "Did ya her' dat too Woggha? Sum magik git havin fun." Woggha let out a laughter that shook his body when he heard this comment. Quaggoth's had a weird sense of humor that Grox never got around to learn. Not that he was interested in Quaggoth show business either. He looked at the blacksmith, but after seeing that almost all the trolls were still there, he decided it was worth inspecting this voice. It was better than waiting around for sure. "Nuff sad, get goin ye fat git." Grox pulled Woggha's leash and the big beast began walking towards the tower throught the now sparsly populated square. Grox could still hear Woggha's silent laughter at his last comment. He'll never understand Quaggoth humour for sure.

Yashar was pacing back and forth in the entry room of his tower. He had spent the last hour extremely busy trying to make the tower look impressive. In the entry room, he made sure to put all of his crystal balls over every flat surface, each showing different images that Yashar had no idea what were supposed to mean, but created an impressive view. The smallest one, he carried with him. This one showed what stood after his door. "Pretty useful to know who's coming and how to react. I do have my good moments", he praised himself.

On the way up, the long spiral staircase had all the decorations on the walls removed and any light sources covered and hidden. Torches were lit on the walls, shining in a dark shade of blue and providing no heat. This was supposed to be a small way to showing off.

The main room in which he was supposed to hold the meeting was covered with magical items he gathered through the years. Weapons, armors, staves and amulets. A big bag of gold was half opened at the corner of the red wood table. Behind that table, a fur covered chair was placed for him. In front of it, half a dozen wood chairs forming a half circle.

In all his efforts to make sure his tower was imposing enough, he almost forgot to place a ward at the door to make sure that the ones entering the tower meant no harm. He was barely started with the conjuration when he heard a knock on the door. "That was quicker than expected", he said to himself as he quickly finished the ward. The ward was another one created by Devon, but with Yashar's own twist. Anyone going through would feel an impact over their body, nothing too big, of course, only enough for the magic to go through them. Anyone who was downright aggressive towards the mage would suffer deep burns when stepping inside, as well as being thrown out of the turret. Or at least should do that. Yashar never got a chance to test it.

He looked at his crystal ball. Standing outside of his door was a Half-Elf, carrying what was apparently enough weaponry for a small army. He could clearly see two staves and a blood colored sword, but the ball also showed him that he carried some more magical artifacts with him. Looking a bit deeper, he could also see an Orc guiding some humongous beast by a chain. The pair was staring at his turret, even though from a safe distance.

With the ward settled, there was no reason why he shouldn't get things started. "Well, that unusual, to say the least", Yashar said as he opened the door to the half elf. Pointing in the distance to the Orc, he screamed "Are you coming or staring is good enough for you two? Of course the big one will have to stand outside, I don't think I have a big enough door for him!"

"So this is city I heard everyone talk about." The big Ogre said to humself as he stood in the middle of the main road. He had only heard stories about this town, a place where all kinds of monsters live together. Tugrok however had to see it for himself and maybe he could finally find what he was after. Hell he wasn't even entirely sure himself what he was looking for, but his guts told him that this was the place. There was an orc riding on an impressive beast, he had drawn a lot of attention, Tugroks as well. He wondered what kind of beast it was but his thoughts got interrupted by a voice.

"For those who shall hear me, listen to what I say! I request your help! Aid me in my quest and you shall be greatly rewarded for your time. There is little I don't have. There is little I can't obtain. Aid me and whatever you can desire shall be yours!"

"Huh? Who speaking with Tugrok?" He looked around trying to find out whos voice it was. There were many monsters, it was the main street after all but he couldn't find the one who spoke with him, until he saw a tower in the middle of the town. Tugrok had an odd feeling, but he felt drawn to the tower. Would he find find there what he is looking for, he wondered as he went off to the tower.

"I'm coming in, since ya offered. I've been gettin' a lotta dirty looks comin' from these blokes, and I'd rather be in a place where I can kill without worryin' about me arse gettin stabbed."

The Half Elf stepped inside, and felt a strong push on his body as he was in the middle of the doorway. Once on the other side, he looked at his hand and visibly saw a small amount of darker skin on his hand, smelling of charred flesh.

"Nice ward mate. I guess ya put it up as a safety thing."

The 1/2 elf wasn't 'hostile' towards the human before him, but wasn't about to let his guard down in case of a trap. He slowly climbed the staircase to the main room and stood, admiring it. It was a nice room, rather large, and full of regal-looking crystal balls, the elf also admired the magical items and weapons scattered about the room, even stopping to pick up a staff and examine it for a second. After putting it back. He went over to the table in the room and sat down in a chair beside it. He pulled out a blank tome and began to write in it. He kept one tome on him in case he wanted to get another spell, however this one was incomplete and would be far from being complete, mayhaps the evil-looking human downstairs could give him a suggestion for what spell the tome could cast.

The cool night's breeze made tree leaves sing in unison. In a clearing, the grass swirled in mesmerizing patterns and a lone owl flew across it in search for a meal. Rays of dim moonlight creeped through the foliage but were not enough to blot out a myriad stars from the firmament. They formed shapes of beauty indescribable, ones that drunken peasants and busy nobles did not normally appreciate. And all through the forest there was silence-

"SHIT. PISS. BADGER CUNTS. DAMMIT FUCK."

Yeah, no, there wasn't silence, alright. A great big skeleton, clad in fur and plate stomped heavily through the clearing, disregarding his surroundings and bashing his massive knuckle dusters together in anger. Well, they were more like massive "studded hexagonal steel slabs of death worn in the hands" than knuckles, but you get the idea. Right after tripping on a rather sizable (and visible) rock, it fell to the ground, and in a fit of even greater, hysterical rage it pummeled the stone until all that remained were pebbles and a fine powder. Having dug a small hole with his fists where the rock once stood, it once again went on its' way, mumbling in a low, incomprehensible tone, the shields strapped on his back clattering audibly as he moved, only allowing a bizarre sound that resembled "landboat" to escape from the overall ruckus and panic this one-monster tavern brawl created.

Before he could once again sink into the woods, he noticed a shadowy outline of a rodent approaching and swiftly turned around in a jerky fashion, arms flailing about. As it neared, his anger grew once again, and he realized that what awaited him would surely be a most bothersome experience. After all, the Skeleton knew quite well how much of a pain most incorporeal creatures were, always lamenting their lives being cut short and other such nonsense. The apparition being a "tree rat" as he referred them made the matter even worse. Once the rat had come close enough though, it stopped for a moment, as if to talk, and when it began to do so, the skeleton stood fuming, fingers clenched rigidly in a half-fist. Had it possessed a pair of lungs, he would be breathing heavily in annoyance. The squirrel delivered a surprisingly short bunch of sentences, but more than enough to piss the skeleton off.

"SHUT UP DAMMIT. FINE. WHO'S THERE? WHERE DO I GO? TALK. JUST GET OFF MY FACE."

@Turbowraith

The energy who once had been Devon felt an unsettling energy about that hulking pile of bones. Not only his anger was visible, it was literally palpable. If that energy was able to have feelings, it would be extremely afraid. Understanding the risks of talking to such a being, it quickly gave the general guidelines.

"Chance to hit living stuff. Plenty of reward for beating people up", as he seemingly got the Skeleton's interest, he quickly added "All you have to do is follow me, we're at a one day walk from the city."

Without waiting for an answer or a punch to the face, which was most likely, Devon's energy quickly started to move in the direction of the city. He wasn't sure what a punch from that skeleton would do to him, nor what would happen if he got killed in this form. However he wasn't willing to test and discover that today. Even without real feelings, the idea of being re-killed was not something Devon was looking foward to.

The undead creature stood silent for a moment, weighing his options before answering in a tone he never strayed too far from.

"BEAT UP? REWARD YOU SAY? FINE! LEAD DAMN YOU!"

The Skeleton was not fond of running. For one reason or another, he only took wide, calculated steps. Perhaps because he had no cares at all, perhaps he simply did not wish to do so or his build did not allow him. Whatever the case could be, his long limbs were more than enough to keep up with the shadowy tree rat. Grunting and cussing for hours on end along the way, he finally reached the gates of a peculiar city. He had not seen it before, nor heard of it. After all, he hated cities and avoided them at all costs, and the wilderness offered no gossip. Its' walls were crudely built, and the guards comprised of numerous inhuman races, indicating the nature of its' inhabitants. Well, the overwhelming noise that came from inside was a good hint too. The Skeleton was fuming.

Like a red-hot pot with a cork plugging it, he walked through the slum-like interior gritting his teeth, bumping into other denizens, and knocking a good few of them down without turning to look at them at all, for that would spell disaster. Grinding his fingertips against his fist weapons, he proceeded further and further into the derelict buildings, crowded bazaars and whatnot, when he finally saw a tower not too far away. It called to him. Whatever wizard tricks had conjured that rat drew him there, he almost felt it. The rodent went on ahead as his own pace slowed down. The crowd had thinned, after all, and he had no more use for a guide. Right when he was about to sink into his usual state, he saw two familiar silhouettes walking out of a nearby alleyway.

Ghouls. Vile, corpse eating vermin that had the audacity to gnaw on his bones once. This was far too much for the skeleton to handle. He charged at them with full force, his eyes seemingly ablaze, as he screamed loud enough for his voice to echo across the district. "BONE-BITING BASTARDS. I'LL CAVE YOUR HEADS." Though what was peculiar is that instead of lunging at him, the two corpse-eaters gave each other worried looks and skittered away, in a pace much faster than the skeleton had the patience to reach. Giving up the chase instantaneously, he resumed his walk to the tower. A few minutes had passed since he had lost sight of the ghost rat, but he made his way to the entrance. Bashing the door a few times in rapid succession, he awaited in relative silence, but not before feeling a peculiar wave of magic wash over him.

"DAMMIT. SHIT. HELL. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. OPEN UP."

Grox stopped Woggha a good 15 meters from the tower's entrance. This was the place for sure. Grox scratched his jaw and spit out next to him. It seemed like there was someone already at the door. A half elf with a huge bag of weapons on his back, and many more mounted on him. Grox patted Woggha's neck and the beast looked up at him. "Dem gits wid lotta weaponz can't fif. A propa Ork needs one gutta' to smash headz." Woggha and Grox let out an intrepid laughter that shook the air. If the elf didn't notice them before, he sure did now. But the duo's fun was over in a second as the door opened after the Elf bashed on it.

"Are you coming or staring is good enough for you two? Of course the big one will have to stand outside, I don't think I have a big enough door for him!"

Grox grabbed the leash and jump down from Woggha's back. He leashed him to a big stone monument of a wizard, the only thing that looked sturdy enough to hold Woggha. For a while at least. He pat his companion's head and then rushed up the stairs to the door. The human wizard was still standing in the door waiting for him. Grox cracked his knuckles, and grabbed the wizard by his robe. "What u want wizurd? I gat no time fo idlin!" He let out a ferocious battlecry into the face of the human and then let him go. He nodded to Woggha before entering the tower.

"What the flying fuck did I got myself into?", Yashar thought to himself while cleaning the orc's saliva from his face. "Do NOT TOUCH ME AGAIN. EVER. You are in MY tower. Do that again and you and that humongous beast outside will be vaporized before you have time to reach for that awfully oversized axe." Yashar's eyes were in a deep shade of red, his pupils and iris gone. His hands were glowing with a an energy that seemed to absorb all the light around them.

Yashar sighed heavily, returning to his normal state as quickly as he turned. "Now, if you could behave yourself for a few minutes, we have business to tend to." Without waiting for an answer, he went upstairs to find the half-elf who went straight ahead. The lack of education from those hirelings was surprising. "Who the fuck just goes upstairs without saying a word? I'd expect more from someone with humam blood. Even this fucking orc waited for me. And he just spat in my face. Hell, I can even smell his last meals!" He had another deep breath while on the way up, trying to not kill both of them and just hire a few human lowlifes instead.

"You have some balls, half blood. Walking around freely through my tower, touching my property without regard for even your own safety. And the biggest of your offences: coming here after being burned by my ward." He let his eyes turn red again before continuing "You'd think I wouldn't notice?".

"Now, if we're done with hostilities, I think we can get to the part where I get what I want and you get rich." His eyes were back to normal. He walked around the room casually, stopping behind his chair. "My name is Yashar and if you guys have something more than air between your ears, you'd notice I'm a wizard." He went around his chair and sat on it, crossing his legs in a rather feminine position. He examined something in his small crystal ball before putting it in a pocket in his robe and proceeding "One of my enemies wants to grab something I want", He was talking in a very condescending tone, as if they were stupid children who needed special care, "And I don't want him to have it. It's very, very important to me that you grab it before he does. When you get it, you bring it back to me, and you get what you want."

Yashar walked around the table and sat on top of it. He was talking in his normal tone again, maybe with a small cocky touch to it, "Now, if we're to make business, we ought to know each other. First tell me who you are, then why you came and finally what you expect. You boy", he said, turning once again to the half elf, "You also tell me what you're scribbling there!"

Standing up with a broad smile, he added with as a small side note "Ohh! And I truly hope you didn't touched anything here while you were alone. More than half of that stuff is actually cursed!"

Yashar crossed the room, standing next to the door, forcing his visitors to turn on the chairs if they wanted to see him. "If you could be quick, there is a big guy coming up, and I'd rather talk to him alone"

"Listen, ya' miserable excuse for a colleague in the arcane arts. First off mate, ya' gave us the offer to come inside, and since ya' were waitin' for the orc to arrive here, I went ahead and came up. Secondly, I didn't pick up and move everythin' around, I picked up one staff and immediately put it down, but thank ya' for the compliment that I have balls. Lastly, this is a blank tome, and I was goin' ta ask ya' what kinda spell should be put in it."

The half elf was visibly annoyed. He left his home and family behind, and was offering a bit of help with this job, but even so he wished the wizard was a bit more kind to his coworkers.

"All of that piss out of the way, I'm Westley Stride. I was raised in a region where humans and elves both coexisted, but if they were to mate together, the child would be shunned for the rest of their life, and beaten up on a regular basis by older kids, younger kids, even the elderly. I left the region where I grew up to go pursue a career in magical aptitude, when I noticed that the head city of the humans and such was so shitty that not even the dirtiest arse in history could amount to it. After gainin' wind of a supposed war, I came here in hopes of a new life where I could maybe be seen as an equal. I'm not takin piss from nobody, I've already dealt with that, and I have a code that forbids me from killing kids or gnomes."

A lot of the anger in Westley's voice was gone by now, and replaced with a calmer tone that could be seen appealing to the diplomatic and scholarly. He patted the UFO beside him on the top, keeping it from becoming hostile towards Yashar.

"I came to help you, maybe make a few connections, and possibly start anew here as a teacher of the arcane after I get some gold to start off with, probably gained from this task of retrieving this artifact that you desperately desire so much."

Westley finished talking and went back to writing in his tome, trying to further it's arcane capabilities.

"Also, hit me and my buddy right here will shoot you through the skull. He won't because I'm keepin' him calm, but if you touch him, he will go mental."

"Well, you did came from a piece of shit city, that explains the lack of manners", Yashar talked to Westley but was looking at the Orc, who was strangely quiet. Maybe angry because of a reprimend, maybe just too stupid to have a full dialogue. Yashar couldn't be sure. "You might want to have a look at those books by the corner of the room. They have some nice spell instructions that I'm sure you would appreciate. Just don't touch anything else."

On the designed corner of the room, a small pile of books was beautifully arranged in an heaxgonal shape. The books were all covered in black leather, with golden letters on the cover indicating the nature of their spells. Beside the pile, lied a small golden chest, with a single ruby craved on top of it.

"Well my friend", the wizard was clearly talking to the orc now, "As you don't seem the talkative type, im going to bring in our second guest. I'd rather not have him waiting for too long". Walking with little concern through his tower, the wizard went for his front door. His crystal ball clearly showing a big figure in the middle of the crowd. A big ogre stood 6 feet above everything else around him.

Yashar opened the door, rather afraid of the giant Quaggot that the Orc left chained on his statue. "I swear to god, if this fucking beast ruins my statue I'll grab that orc and this humongous beast an stick their heads into each other's anuses. Anusii. Assholes. Fuck, I gotta see what many assholes are called."

Looking outside, Yashar could see a huge ogre looking at his tower, with a confused look on his face. The mage wasn't sure if he ogre came from his calling or just wasn't used to seeing anything bigger than him. Preparing for the worse, the mage screamed "Me has offer. You smash people. Me gives you things. Lots of shinny things! Come!" The look on the ogre's face wouldn't give if he understood what the mage said, but he clearly heard it. Yashar took a quick look at his statue. The giant beast was sitting as quietly as one could expect from such an uncontrollable race. His statue was safe. For now.

Upstairs, Westley felt his mouth fill with saliva. Before he could do anything to stop it, he started to uncontrolably drool.

Grox watched as the elf and the wizard had their dispute. He was rather interested in seeing two races he hates quarrel with each other, but the fun came to an end quickly. His attention quickly turned towards the items in the room, and he silently observed the tower's interior. He wasn't much of an interior designer, but the place looked nice. He was considering ways to kill the mage, and take the tower from him when it interrupted the thought line by opening the door. Outside stood a giant Ogre some ten meters from Woggha. The ogre looked like a plush toy next to Woggha as they both stood in front of the tower. And it is rare to say such a nice thing at an ogre, even in such a situation. Woggha looked at the Ogre next to him and let out a faint laughter as the wizard tried to explain things to the Ogre. Grox just let out a sigh. He'll never get his companion's humour.

As soon as the wizard turned back from the door, Grox stood in front of him. "Wat u want wizurd? We dun haf time fo you blabber. U need mo trinketz, wat u need us fo?" Grox suggestively looked around the many bookcases and trinkets that littered the wizard's place. He stood a step closer to Yashar, closing the space between the two to an uncomfortable level. "Wat u need dat iz so shiny ta get us boyz fo?" Grox looked into the wizards eyes, this time sparing him from the crude orcish shouting. He was intimidating, and could wrestle this fragile man easely, but he was no fool, and the guy's eyes hold malevolent looks he only saw when Woggha's whacking humans. He kept his eyes on the wizard as he sat down on a chair. As his patience was short, and he wanted to go as fast as he could, he shouted for the half-elf upstairs. "Get down 'ere u midgut! Dem wizur haz a vizito'!"

"Holy crap on a cracker."

Stride stared at the hall of books, amazed by the amount of sheer spellcrafting instructions and guides there were. Comparing it to anything, it would be like if the god of literature and knowledge went to his bedroom for a bit of fun and 9 months later this appeared. Honestly Stride felt like he could drool just from being near the hall, let alone actually looking at it... wait... he was drooling?

Stride swallowed the excess saliva and rubbed it off his tome. There was a curse afoot, and rather than being harmful, this one was rather more of a nuisance than anything else. Westley closed his mouth and covered it with his scarf, stopping the excessive drooling before him. Thank God that serpent scales are incredibly breathable. He then went back to the hall of books, and went over to where the heavy-hitting spells were located, and he glanced over a spell known as Lunar Flare. He picked up the book and went downstairs to where he heard the orc call for him.

"It's Stride, and what's going on down here...?"

@KRIEEEG @6slyboy6
As Tugrok pushed his way through the crowd he did his best at not accidentally trampling anyone, like goblins and the like. After a while he reached the tower. Outside there was a statue and a beast chained to it. Tugrok scratched his bald head before he moved in front of it, looking at the creature. "Wolfie, are you voice Tugrok heard?" He even thought about trying to pet 'Wolfie', but its was then that the wizard made his appearance. "Me has offer. You smash people. Me gives you things. Lots of shinny things! Come!"

Slowly standing up the big stared at the wizard, unintentionally looking a bit intimidating like most ogres his size. "Humie, are you voice that speaked to Tugrok?" Then he shouldered his large club, because he can. He wasn't sure what to think of the Wizard, he was dressed a bit weird in Tugroks eyes.

"Errr, Tugrok doesn't mind helping, but Tugrok isn't looking for shiny. Tugrok is looking for- um..." While his brain was starting to work at full capacity he again scratched his head and looked up the tower. After a while he finally looked back at the wizard and continued "Tugrok can't remember what he was looking for." Meanwhile an orc has joined the wizard as well. It seemed like he had business with the human so he Tugrok decided to wait. Maybe he could try to pet the Quaggoth again while they were talking. That seemed like a good idea to Tugrok.

"Don't touch that!" Yashar screamed as the ogre attempted to pet that giant Quaggoth. No matter how fun it would be to watch something like that to unfold, he wasn't willing to lose an stupid ogre who wanted to help. It was probably the biggest amount of muscle for the smallest amount of gold he would ever find. As Tugrok slowly turned to him, he continued, "Maybe as a reward I can make you remeber what you wanted as a reward?" The mage was starting to regret his decision to hire those monsters. Had he not been exiled from human society, he'd be more than glad to turn those monsters away and hire a bunch of mercenaries. The absence of this kind of bullshit would be worth the extra gold he'd have to pay.

"Come close to the door and I'll explain it all", Yashar shouted. He doubted that the Ogre would possibly fit through the door. If he dared to leave the tower, he'd probably would be forced to hold the meeting outside. When he turned to look for his other guests, he found the orc unconfortably close to him. The only ones who'd get this close of him were usually the city whores."Wat u need dat iz so shiny ta get us boyz fo?", the orc partially said, partially screamed. He was so close that the mage could smell not only his breath, but the putrid smell of that race. He stared the orc back in the eyes, desiring nothing but to set him ablaze and make him beg for mercy. But he quickly recomposed himself before continuing, "Do you even understand the concept of personal space? Sit in that chait and as soon as that Stride gets here I'll explain it all. By the way, you still haven't told me your name."

The orc sat on his preferred chair, making the mage think of the ridiculous amount of time he'd have to put to clean it later on. "Get down 'ere u midgut! Dem wizur haz a vizito'!", the orc screamed. He was clearly running out of patience. Fortunately, the half blood quickly answered "It's Stride, and what's going on down here...?" However, something seemed off in his voice. Sounded a little... muffled perhabs? Like he was eating or had something in his mouth. Then it finally hit the mage: the cursed staff! A gift given to him by a prankster gnome a few month ago. Yashar was doing his very best to not laugh at the situation and look respectable.

When Stride finally arrived he found the mage standing close to the door and poiting him to a chair. Yashar's face did not betrayed the fact that he knew about the drooling. He pointed a chair to the half elf before starting his small monologue.

"The reason I brought you all here is simple: an unkown mage found out about a book I've been searching for a long time. It is a very powerful book and the main reason why I was cast out of human society.", as his guests didn't seemed to be in a good mood, he quickly continued "The book is deeply tied to a powerful magic, which the origins I do not know. It is very important that you do not touch it. I should also warn you that there is a party of humans trying to get this book, which is why I need this to be done quickly." As the small party did not seemed to be happy about the perspective of fighting in what should be only a quick fetch quest, Yashar added "If that party is killed, not only I'll increase you rewards, but you shall also be able to get some great loot from their bodies. Even greater rewards await if you bring me the wizard who found out about the book. If he's brought alive, the reward will be greater."

Taking a quick look at it's crystal ball he decided to end the day there. "There is an inn near the market, I've made arrangements for you to stay there for free. For our big friends, the stable has been reserved so they have a place to stay. Further information shall be given to you once you get there. If you are willing to take this task, you shall be leaving in the day after the next by nightime."

"Any questions?" He said, with a broad smile on his face.

@KRIEEEG
Grox stood up and grabbed his heavy axe. He examined the head, and turned it around a few times before looking at the wizard. "I want a bigga ax." He pointed the axe at the wizard, closing half an eye as he raised the handle in a horizontal line. Before the wizard could react he raised the axe, and threw it out the door, wedging into the side of the opposite buidling, making a small portion of the roof crumble at the heavy impact. "One dat shootz thunda." Grox snored and spit in his hand before reaching out for the wizard. He didn't like the guy, or any humans for that fact, but a deal is sealed with a handshake. After looknig at the disgusted face of the wizard he grunted, and made sure that the spit would stay on the wall for some time. Before exiting he made sure to give murderous looks to the wizard, and then untied Woggha. "Muv it ye big git, we hav places ta be!" He was happy to leave the accursed place, and get down to slaying hummies. Whilst leaving, Woggha happily waved at the Ogre accompanied with something that started out as a smile, but ended up as a collection of sharp teeth.

"Question, can you fix this droolin' issue for me, or at least gimme somethin' that'll lessen it?

This would be irritating and annoying in the long run. A limitless supply of spit is kinda nice in some situations, like if he needs to cause a distraction, but in most situations it's not helpful. Then an idea lit up in Westley's head. The saucer that followed him floated above his head and began to speak in a metallic echoey voice.

"I may be able to talk like this for the time being. Telepathic links between my summon and me are pretty nice to have for situations like this."

Westley saw this small band of misfits, and realized that they were probably going to be doomed on this quest, although there was a bright idea in his head. He looked at the Quaggoth as the saucer began to speak again.

"I'll go on the quest if you give a bit more armor to the orc's mount in advance. It looks like it could use it."

If Yashar complied, Stride would know he was serious about this quest he had them going on.

"As for me in terms of a reward, I don't know just yet what I want. I'll think about it and I'll get back to you in a bit. Whether you send me a message via someway or I send my summon to you, we'll figure it out."

Westley stood looking at Yashar, his hair slightly blowing in a breeze.

"Well?"

@KRIEEEG @6slyboy6
He just wanted to pet him but then the wizard shouted all of a sudden "Don't touch that!". Togruks hand stopped mid-air before he could pet the Quaggoth, though he didn't understand why he shouldn't do that. "Tugrok just wanted to pet Wolfie." he said as he turned to the Wizard.

"Maybe as a reward I can make you remeber what you wanted as a reward? Come close to the door and I'll explain it all!" the Wizard offered Tugrok who came closer like like he requested. It took Tugrok only a few moments of thinking to respond, with a smart question for once "Okay... but what if Tugrok remembers first?" he wasn't sure though if the Wizard heard him.

Looking through the door Tugrok saw that there was another one joining them, Stride. Now that they were all gathered the Human explained why he had summoned them here. Get the book, maybe smash some hummies and maybe get the wizard, even Tugrok could remember that. The Wizard finished his explanation by asking if there were any questions. The first one who piped up was the orc, demanding a bigger axe, that could shoot thunder. Tugrok looked at his big wooden club, it wasn't the best weapon but he was ok with it.
After sealing the deal the orc headed outside to the Quaggoth, untying him. Before they made there exit, Woggha waved at Tugrok trying to smile. The ogre didn't mind the teeth and waved back "Bye Wolfie." Then he turned back to the wizard with a question "Where are stables humie talked about? Tugroks first time here."