Sarah

Sarah looked at her charter. She had a company, even if it were temporary. It was a strange feeling of pride she felt. She didn't set out to become a commander yet here she was. The young girl was also stunned. It seemed each person was willing to volunteer. She felt her chest tighten. She hoped everything would go as planned. She hoped to leave them behind once they got closer to her home. If she was successful, she could pay them.

Sarah let out a happy sign. "Thank you all. Now that the charter is out of the way. We should be able to travel without trouble. And if we ever are in a pinch for supplies, we can contract work," she stated rather softly. She sat back in her chair and smiled to each person. Their adventure was soon to begin.

Christopher

Chris chuckled. He eyed the non-human carefully.

"Alright. Money isn't an issue here. I'll meet your demand." Christopher stood up, extending a firm hand. "If you are worried about supplies, I can get provisions no problem." He gestured over to the table he had been secretly listening in on. "And we have a company for hire right here."

Christopher steps over to Sarah's group and clears his throat. "Am I to understand that you are travelling east?" he said firmly looking directly at Sarah, "I couldn't help but overhear." His gaze stayed locked on Sarah with a vivid interest.

Sarah and Christopher

His eyes were filled with fire, it intimidated Sarah slightly. This strange, nobleman had overheard their plans and also wanted in it seemed. She just wished the new stranger would look away. She dropped her gaze to the charter before her. She gingerly packed it away, feeling like it would be judged.

"Yes, we will be heading east on the night of the festival," she informed the man. He grinned.

"I'd like to hire you. I am travelling with one other. I will provide provisions for this trip," Chris said formally, finally glacier around the table. He eyed the company with a slight air of annoyance. He wondered if any of them were involved with the murder of his mother. The orc was out of the question, the kill was way too clean for his ilk. The man with tattoos did not strike him as an executioner. Then the woman, she looked highborn but he did know her. A foriegner. His suspicions were set on her. He looked back to Sarah, his guide to his mother's killer, waiting for her response.

"I... I will talk to my companions, but your offer is very generous and I may be pressed to deny it," she glanced to her guests. Chris nodded in understanding and returned to his table. Sarah hunched over the table slightly. "It is almost too good to be true, but it might be the only choice was have for a comfortable trip," she said softly. She hoped for veteran advice. She was bad at feeling people out, and she was concerned for her companions. She didn't want to put them at more risk than they already will be.

"Sometimes, choosing not to fight is the more honorable path, Orc." She replied with a stern look towards him, disagreeing with some of his words. While there was honor in fighting to protect oneself and ones friends and allies, there was no honor to be had fighting an unarmed opponent. "You cannot ever know if someone deserves to be killed or not, simply from fighting." But she was not going to complicate matters further and decided to quiet herself for now. The wine he had ordered arrived and had been placed in front of her. With a small frown and a sigh, she wrapped her hands around the mug. The tavern didn't exactly have much in the way of fancy glassware.

Instead, she listened attentively to Christophers offer. Mulling it over, perhaps it was a bit of a suspicious offer, but Cia didn't think much of it. This man had no reason to try and deceive them, so Cia saw no reason not to take his offer.

"It is a good offer. I can think of no reason as to why we shouldn't take it."

Gun'tar frowned.
" How can one measure himself before the ancestors if he doesn't fight , Laurencia ? If someone dies in combat , then that's the greatest honor any warrior would have. To fight and to die on the battle field is more honorable than all deaths and... " he takes a pause and the continues " Leave my race out of this. You will call me Gun'tar ! ".

Looking at the man that intervened in their discussion and said " We won't agree or talk to anything before you tell us your name. A bargain that is struck without a name is no bargain at all. ".

@Rune_Alchemist@Lady Sven

Terran felt content to sit back and listen to the Orc and Laurencia bicker, he honestly found it entertaining. Almost as amusing as Cia's reaction to the drink Gun'tar had so "generously" purchased for her. He figured it was a far cry from the usual affair for her.

He cared not for honor and glory in battle, though Terran would take a life if he was forced, and he didn't feel he would have too many problems with it. "Killing out of necessity and killing to please some deceased "ancestors" who've rotted in the ground years ago are quite different situations. You'll forgive us if we don't value the opinions of the long dead." he states with a shrug.

Drumming his fingers on the table as he thought over the new arrival's offer, he couldn't really find anything wrong with extra support. "It's a good offer, I'm a bit curious as to why he wants to head that way enough to fund our little band, but if he won't say then I don't really care either way."

Azerus-Christopher
off to the side of the main table

Azerus never shook the mans hand, it may have appeared rude but the task was dauntingly difficult at the moment. Azerus would rather appear unfriendly than a uncoordinated drunk. However the thought of his new sword caused a slight wicked grin to creep across his lips. Suddenly he was feeling a little bit better.
Still leaning against the wall he closes his eyes while partially ease dropping the conversation beside him. It was all small conversation and bickering, finding nothing of interest or demanding of his attention, Azerus remained silent resting against the sturdy wall.

He didn't care too much who he would be travelling with, he was just excited to finally be seeing more of the world. The fact that he got a brand new sword just for leaving and another when arriving was cherry on the cake. His luck had truly began to turn around since awakening early this morning. If he wasn't feeling deathly ill Azerus might question if it was all a dream. One puzzle still remained, why did this man seem so familiar...

“You there! Stop.” Exclaimed the shorter of the two guards, a brutish elbow wedged in his back by his fellow man at arms. Waving his sword in front of his nose as if to hypnotise himself away from the situation, the young trainee, who could be no more than eighteen, took a few brief and heavy steps towards Archenos in his over sized iron boots.

His eyes flickered as the ebs of a dying flame do in the soft breeze of night, looking painfully over every inch of danger that the man before him presented. The tip of his nose shivered along with his soft bottom lip, the night air driving cold past his stalwart and chattering white teeth.

“Who-o are you? What’s your busi-iness?” The boy pressed cautiously past the boundaries of his position so far, the swaying blade of his sword slowly coming to rest by his side. He stared up into the empty mass of shining steel as if he expected the armour itself to speak forth from its breast plate, a face to appear upon the faultless smithwork.

Such a frail opponent, unworthy of Archenos’ effort, an execution rather than a duel. However, the child-guard was shadowed by an elderly man, large in every aspect, including his wide coniferous eyebrows and mountainous nose. This one held his mace by his side in a forward grip, fingers pressed against the shaft for a rapid response and alteration of stance. Even still, the night was long and Archenos was insistent upon himself that he should make the city by sunrise.

“I am Archenos Pinesorrow, The Fallen.” He replied, his words dropping slowly to the ground in a thick mist.

“Pinesorrow... Elf then are you?” The older guard spoke for the first time, the deep metallic tones Archenos expected thwarted by a higher, broken glass pitch.

“That I am,” Archenos nodded, a tempered lowering of the head to distract from the fact that he glanced to the tower from within his helm. The iron helm was now lifted from the sleeping eyes, the sights of a crossbow risen to furrowed brow.

“Fallen, what, why do they - they call you that?” The boy asked, his alerted posture exchanged for that of a disciplined child.

“I cannot say. It isn’t something I ask when I fell my enemies.” Archenos answered plainly, but simultaneously lowered his hands to his sides, leaving Vein Drainer to sit in its sheath for now.

“We aren’t scared of you!” Shouted the guard from atop the tower, his feet adjusting as he lifted the crossbow closer to his chest. His voice stated the contrary to his assertion of courage, as did his need to exclaim at all.

“No? Perhaps not...though, should you hold that bolt in my direction any longer, your companions before me may have reason to,” Archenos held the gaze of the boy and old man, waiting for the crack of the crossbow to resonate around him, a crystalline ball of ice sprouting like fungus in his palm.

Sarah

The young woman listened to her companions. It was a good offer. Payment to escort some uppity noble to the border. Maybe he's scouting the dangers of the expanding Darkness. Sarah decided that business is business. If it meant fuller bellies and nicer bedding, she couldn't turn it down. She spoke softly to her group.

"I'll go tell him that we will take his offer. Mr. Gun'tar, while a death on the battlefield would be a glorious one, I wish to avoid needless death. We have a long trip ahead of us and I would like to know that I can count on you to make sure the rest of us see it through," she glanced to the other two. "I'll give you what money I have now if you guys want to split it up and get anything more to your liking for the journey. It's not a lot of money, mind you, but it's a sort of thank you gift," she said with a nod. She rummaged through her pack and pulled out a small sack. She emptied the coins onto the table. It was mixed of Conran and Ballion coins. Sarah did a quick count and split the pile three ways. "That's three-hundred each," she confirmed before replacing her now empty wallet into her pack. She pushed out from the table, adjusted her sword and stepped toward the man who hadn't even introduced himself.

Sarah stood next to the man, somewhat stiff. She gave the man's company a friendly nod, noting his non-human features.

"Sir, we will gladly take your contract to escort you to the East," she stated with a firm nod. "My name is Sarah Smith, of Levital on the border. My arm is yours," she said with a polite bow.

Christopher smiled warmly to Sarah. His eyes searched her quickly before flicking behind her to observe her group. "Fantastic. I'll get the supplies together, and a wagon. I'll go with your plan to leave on the day of the festival. Better early before the crowds flood the streets," he paused and offered his hand out to the girl, "My name is Christopher, Half-Brother to the Crown Prince of Conra, but please, keep it to Christopher or Chris," he said as Sarah had just taken his hand to shake, she froze and turned a tad paler. Chris was amused, he didn't often reveal his identify for this very reason. It always intimidates people. He released the girl's hand and turned to his other hire. "This here is..." Chris had no idea what his name was, but decided to say something slightly different, "Our lieutenant, yes," he said with a nod and a smile. "Anyway, go get squared away, and I'll meet your group at the back gate on the morning of the festival," he said dismissively. Sarah took the hint and returned to her table. Christopher went for the door to start getting ready. "Come on, let's get you your money," he informed his companion.

Sarah sat back down in her seat kinda slowly. She still looked a little pale, but not so shocked. She couldn't change her mind. She would have to travel with a Prince whether she liked it or not. It would be better for the group. A heavy sigh, much too heavy for a girl her size, escaped her. She decided she would sit there for awhile longer. She had a room nearby to sleep in until time came for them to leave.

Gun'tar was surprised when he saw the money. He didn't ask for them , not was he interested in them.
" I will make sure , no one will die if they don't want to. Don't worry , I'll behave if that's what you are referring to. "
He then looks at the other and says " I am not speaking about their bones. They are returned to Mother Earth. I am speaking about their spirits. My...mother would know how to explain it better than me , really. "

He watched Sarah go talk with the man and heard only one word from what he said " Christopher " , probably his name , he thought. When Sarah came back , she was a little pale. Maybe something didn't work out , maybe something happened.

" Human girl , something wrong ? Did that...man , said something that he shouldn't ? You look pale. "

@Lady Sven@uliop

Dren Rache

Up until now, the man cloaked in red had been seated in the corner of the room, a pot of tea sat upon the table in front of him and a china cup laid in hands reach, his gloved fingers encircling the handle and bringing it to his lips for an extended smirk. He'd been in town a few days now, enjoying pleasant times at this bar and reveling in the looks of assumed nobility he got from the locals. Even peasants knew when to recognize the upper crust of their society... that was always good.

But as he sat, pondering how to spend his time that day and where to try and sell his wares, his ears picked up the conversation going on nearby. His head turned and his eyes fixed upon the small gathering group conversing. He could glance at the flyer they were talking about too. Travelling to the East? Now that was a suicide mission if Dren had ever seen it before. But missions such as these also presented unique business opportunities for people like him. You couldn't go travelling without the necessary provisions... more so, he looked at the others who were amongst them thus far. A lot of them had a certain regality to them... he couldn't tell for certain, but he had a nose for blue blood ever since he'd elevated himself above the common mass. Yes, this was an iron he simply had to strike.

He rose from his table and pushed his chair in, taking a hold of his splendid cane and approaching the group, making sure to clack his cane with every two steps, the noise alone would dignify him with importance to this little group. They'd be begging him for assistance.

"Madame." Dren began as he now stood within close proximity to the group. He removed his hat and gave a brief bow, holding the hat to his chest. "Pardon my intrusions, but it has come to my attention this little gathering to travel to the East. My name is Dren Rache." he introduced himself curtly before replacing his hat and standing up tall once again. "If you're going to go marching into such frightful places... naturally, you will need the right provisions for such an adventure, no?" He raised a hand with an extended finger to punctuate his question before he slipped it inside the folds of his long red cloak, removing a rounded bottle, a simple red liquid sloshing inside under a hand made label.

"Perhaps we can conduct a little business? I have many tinctures and remedies, and I assure you, all of what I sell is genuine, made by my own two hands. You won't find much better in the commonfolk around town." he gave her his best winning smile as his mind continued to cunningly calculate their situation.

Sarah

"Oh! Don't worry, just lost in thought!" she said with a smile, quickly hiding her discomfort with the idea of traveling with a prince. Sarah fiddled with her bag for a moment before letting out one of her heavy sighs. "Everything is in order. We will meet with him on the morning of the festival," she informed her group. Then Dren Rache approached, speaking right away as any salesman would.

"Hm, I'm not so sure personally. I just gave what little spending money I had to my men and our contractor just left," she informed the salesman. She couldn't disagree with his words. "I am sure we can buy on the morning of the festival, sir. We'll be at the south gate around sunrise," she offered with as friendly a smile as she could. Sarah was a little sad she couldn't purchase any of his wares.

Azerus

Now suddenly finding interest in the conversation and events around him, Azerus raises his head to look upon the congregated rag-tag group before him. One by one his judgemental prying eyes crawled over each and every one of them. Only now noticing them for the first time as he measured, assessed and appraised each of them for their potential skills, strengths and weaknesses.

While he shared none of his thoughts he had many to consider. When Christopher began to leave, Azerus quickly nods to the others before departing himself.
Following in step close behind Chris he positioned himself like a true lieutenant. Despite still feeling woozy, there was a slight skip in his step and as soon as the tavern doors swung shut behind them he hurried off to the nearest blacksmith to find the best sword Christopher's generous advanced payment could afford. If any spare change was left over he would then seek out some essential travelling gear.

Even more so than before, Azerus had an honour and debt bound duty to see through. It just so happened that this debt settling noble cause also happened to be lucrative.

Only moments ago, just like that, the pieces had all fallen into place. Azerus could no longer deny it, nor was he foolish enough to continue believing that it was simply the weaves of luck and chance that had brought upon the series of events that led him here, to this place at this time.
No, now that he knew who he was accompanying he realised that fate had been tugging upon and guiding the strings of his destiny. He had been given an opportunity.
To protect Christopher and ensure that he returned home from his mission successfully, back to his half brother and Azerus's good friend, Ian Harst Conra IV - Crown Prince, to whom Azerus owes his own life.

Dren Rache

Drat. Extending the time of a sale only increased the chance of somebody else getting in whilst he was away with a better offer. He wasn't sure if he had competitors in town, but if he did, they'd snatch up this girl before he even had a chance to speak with her again. Well... there might be a further way to ensure she stuck with him. An old trick Dren had picked up long ago, a way to ensure she came back to him for more.

"Well, that is unfortunate. But I assure you, miss, my services will be worth whatever you can pay. And I can make you a guarantee." He slipped the red bottle back into his cloak and instead removed a tiny pyramid shaped bottle, this one filled with a glistening black liquid. "This, is a simple sleeping draft. One drop could knock out a giant. Take it, as a sign of good faith." he set the bottle down on the table and winked at her once. "Try it out if you please, anything to assure you my work is top notch."

Chris

Christopher followed his companion to his different stops, chatting up shopkeepers he knew quite well. He was able to haggle with them a bit and get his horned friend some more spending money from his initial commission. Chris would mark down names and prices, then hand the shopkeepers a sort of receipt, which promised their agreed price with a little extra from the Prince himself. He didn't have access to the family treasury, but his Captain's salary and his brother really bolstered his private pocket. He could easily fund an army on the fly. The young man would smile at citizens who recognized him, greet the elderly, and occasionally help people solve disputes as he waited to move on to the next shop.

"I'll treat you to dinner, my friend," he offered to his lieutenant, "We just got to get back to the castle before it gets too dark. They have to close the gates at night now," he said firmly. He could still get in through the guardhouses but he wasn't about to lead a non-human through those passages without anyone really knowing the stranger. He was still a little unsure of the young non-human. He wondered what brought such a unique individual to Conra at such a time. People could accuse him of being involved in the Dark if he wasn't careful.

@Lady Sven

As much as Azerus would love to just slip back into the nostalgic familiarity of high class castle society, that he has lived and known from behind the secluded hidden confines of closed doors and heavy shadows his whole life. He wasn't so sure he could just go waltzing back in so soon.

Not while there were still those that would recognise him, not while he still appeared the way he did, not while an unidentified royal murderer still ran free.

While most of the castle occupants wouldn't recognise him, having never laid eyes upon him even though he lived right under their noses, his appearance would still cause question and stir, so close to the queens tragic demise.
And then there were those that Azerus was running from. As much as he would love to flaunt his new found freedom in open sight he knew not of their intentions or how desperate and deep their desires ran. His ego and pride could jeopardise Christopher's mission and life. He couldn't risk that by good conscious.

-----

Azerus snapped back to reality only to realise he had been standing awkwardly in silence as Chris patiently awaited a reply. Caught in the throws of beginning a sentence with a face somewhere between a smile and frown Azerus only manages a stammer, failing to find words to rectify the situation. Finally after settled thoughts and a breath he speaks his reply.

"Ah you have already done much for me, now I must start fulfilling my role. If I am to be a lieutenant then I must be acting like one and get to know the, uh, troops. I will meet you in the morning."

With hesitation he unclips his shining new sword from its belt and delicately hands it over to Christopher.

"Just don't forget to bring that!" he adds in with a friendly smile and nod.

Already he had grown admiration for this man in the way he interacted with the people of the street. He was truly of his families blood, it appeared as though that blood lineage couldn't produce an ill human if it tried.
That thought was a sad reminder of the deceased queen, also an affirmation that a man was made by his heritage and blood, and Azerus couldn't deny his own was anything but righteous or clean.

The high hopes and uplifting confidence that was instilled simply by being around Christopher quickly faded as Azerus made his way back to the bar to see the others he would be travelling with.

Gun'tar took the small vial filled with the black liquid and looked at it. He wanted to smell it but quickly decided against it. Maybe the smell would make him go to sleep ? He didn't want to risk it.

" Merchant. Wait. I'll buy from you now. But first. I want to know two things about your potions. First of all. Do you have anything that could stop someone's heart for a time and restart it after that ? To make him look dead I mean and the last thing. How can we be sure you don't want to sell us anything but what we ask ? How can we be sure you are not just a charlatan ? ".

The Orc held his gaze , looking into his eyes. Waiting for anything to betray his true intentions.
His left hand slowly moving toward the hilt of Garam'Dora'Mala.

@Lady Sven@CadenGallic

Dren Rache

"Merchant. Wait. I'll buy from you now." THERE was Dren's cue, a sly smile spreading upon his face as he curtly turned on his heels to face the speaker... though, his cool facade faltered a moment as he looked upon the person speaking to him. A large orc, an ice variety he'd have to guess by that unique skin pigmentation, towering size and clear strength, not someone Dren wanted to have to deal with in close proximity. He'd prefer to deal with this man from at least three towns away. Not to mention a questing hand was making its way toward that ugly length of metal at his side. No grace at all. But, if he insisted upon making a move, Dren could at least coax him out of it.

"Sleeping Death? Childs play." he boasted, slipping a hand into the folds of his coat and removing another tiny pyramid bottle, this one containing a bright pink liquid. "My friend, I carry a potion for almost every occasion, and if I do not know that occasion, I can prepare something for it when asked. As to disprove the charlatan accusation, I have offered your ally there a sample of my work. If you truly do not believe in my skills, simply try it out. If I am the charlatan you accuse me of being, the draught will be faulty. And then you can swing at me with that heap you're grasping for. I won't even dodge." Dren was sure this orc wouldn't back down from an offer like that. A display like this often verified to a buyer that Dren was more than willing to stake his life upon his work. Of course it could go the other way and this musclehead could just lunge at him. His free hand gripped the head of his cane tightly, just in case he would soon find need of it.

@Ashevelendar

Gun'tar laughed when he heard the Merchant talk. He looked at him with a smile on his face.

" Sorry for the "ruse" merchant. Most charlatans would back away as soon as they see my hand going to Garam'Dora'Mala. You speak the truth. So...this potion. What did you call it ? Sleeping Death ? Can it be applied on a sword ? So that when it cuts someone , the "poison" would enter his blood and if so...would 400 coins be enough for it ? "

As soon as he stopped talking , he realized something was "off" on this merchant. Most merchants would run as he said. He decided to not say anything until he knew for certain what is what.

@CadenGallic

Dren Rache

Dren offered a slight chuckle in return to the Orc's laughter. A simple test, it seemed. Perhaps he was simply trying to figure Dren out... lower class did so like to study their betters.

"A show of intimidation would indeed spook a charlatan. Luckily, I am no such thing." He assured him, tipping the brim of his hat slightly. "Yes, coating it on that hunk of metal you wield would indeed deliver the desired effect. It would be less potent than if it were ingested, but if that's a method you seek, Sleeping death can abide perfectly." he pontificated, swirling the pink liquid in the bottle.

"400 will do as a price. I can give you a second draught too for an extra 200. Call it a buyer's special." he tried to entice him to part with more money. Offering a second load for cheaper was a good tactic to reel in fickle customers, sometimes even create some loyalty in them when needed. This orc was playing right into Dren's gloved palms.

@Ashevelendar

" Merchant...I don't need another one. I need just one...I'll give you 400 gold coins for this one and if you come with our party another 50 gold pieces everyday 'till we reach our destination. How does that sound ? I am sure the others will be more than happy to give you some gold for you company if you wish to come. The only condition is that you will make potions for us when we need them and in exchange we will pay you and protect you if you don't know how to protect yourself. " said Gun'tar with a determined look.

@CadenGallic

Dren Rache

Now this was a new one... he'd had offers of being paid further instalments for a constant supply of his tonics... but to actually go on this adventure's little quest. To the east, to boot. Dren had been thinking about it since he first overheard their conversation, even he knew it was a suicide mission that they were asking him to go on. They really must have been desperate for extra hands if they were asking him, the man they were calling a charlatan moments ago.

"My friend, your mission, to be frank, sounds like a suicide mission. I am fully capable of defending myself in harsh situations, but no potion I have can put a stopper in death." he spoke to the Orc with a slight frown upon his face. "As tempting as the offer of constant money is, it means nothing if I should perish. Unless you can give me a good reason to attend this trip with you, the answer is no."

@Ashevelendar