@MissCapnCrunch

Pouring the small elf a cup of tea, Kaite set her helmet on the table while letting her packs slough off onto a side to rest on the floor against her chair. The freedom of her hand's motions in topping the cup off spelled a small and readably discontent furrow of their brow for a moment before concluding and looking back to the woman who introduced herself as Dionaea Sycamore, or 'Dia' for sort.
Kaite paid partial attention to the woman as she spoke of her lineage and poorly attempting subtleties in asking for the black knight's name. Her attention was more invested in others' conversation and appearances, introductions and such. As formal as the setting was, Kaite saw no need to complicate formalities with repetition, and the woman who introduced herself as Laina earned a distantly skeptical stare for a moment as she engaged the knight who'd arrived shortly after herself.

"Yeh, neh, to be quite honest it's because I did not introduce myself" Kaite coldly growled, mimicking the young elf's tone as she looked somewhere past them to the rest of the occupants in her distraction. The half-elf caught herself, however, shaking her head with a self-disappointed sigh for her tavern-room demeanor. "Pardon...I am 'Sir' Jericho Kaite of Ispar. Kaite will do, and I guess I am more used to happy hours than garden parties" Kaite apologized along with an awkward chuckle, offering her own information in compensation, however broken it was. She was more used to throwing people out of bars than engaging people in conversation, and this single day likely held a good two-fold of her spoken words combined in the last month.

The announcement of 'getting started' drew Kaite's attention, having been convinced that this meet up was just for the sake of it or to be some kind of trap. The knight's 'here here' easily reflected her interest in there being more than simply shaking hands and splitting yuppy high-elf swill.

By the time Sadron rapped his staff on the floor, The Storyteller had finished his tea and was now working on the tobacco in his pipe. The sound of the staff caused The Storyteller to look up. It seemed like the meeting was about to begin.
"Seeing how everyone is here, how about we get started?" Sadron asked.
"Here here" Tiberius replied.
"I would agree with you, Tiberius" The Storyteller said "But I do believe we are missing 1 person. Unless of course, Erudessa had other matters to attend to". Having said that, The Storyteller looked at Sadron and Arandur and awaited a response from 1 of them.

Xen's eyes lifted slightly as Sadron entered the room, drawing the attention of everyone around him. He was a commanding man, although, like his kin, he was slender and graceful. Xen did his best not to draw attention to himself, wanting to gauge the personalities of those gathered around before making any haphazard attempt at communication. He saw a man who was dictating another's story, seemingly almost obsessed with the idea while the man speaking to him spoke very highly of himself. A woman fumbled with her books as she poorly attempted at socializing. In a weird way, she reminded him of himself when he was younger. Never knowing what to say or what was appropriate for the moment. His eyes passed over to another woman who was clearly a woman who gave no stock in the formalities, preferring information rather than that second helping of tea.

Bang... Bang...

Sadron's staff collided with the floor, sending ripples throughout the great hall. Xen himself leaned into his staff to gain a better bearing of himself before limping over closer to the center round table where the others had gathered. His own staff clicked across the marble floor before finding himself a suitable position. His green eyes fell upon Arandur, his eyes almost knowing in their age. Xen didn't fail to notice his discomfort when being pressed by The StoryTeller and the general disposition of the two present Triumvirate was less than ideal. Then again, if Sadron sought Xen out, something had to be incredibly distressing. He gave Arandur a slight nod of acknowledgment before tilting his head toward Sadron. It was not lost on him that Erudessa was missing. It was not within his character to jump to conclusions before having all the facts presented in front of him, but he sensed something was amiss.

Sadron looked to Arandur, but Arandur had grown so crestfallen that he could not look the older elf in the eye. Sadron would have to address the matter himself. His face darkened as he announced:

"Lady Durvain was slain by the Warlock."

He let that sink in for a moment.

"By the end of the last Council, we agreed that the Warlock had to be stopped. Allowing the orcs to proliferate was a mistake on our-" Arandur shot him a reproachful look. "-my part," Sadron corrected, "a mistake I intend to correct. We miscalculated his strength and paid the price. By now, his abominable breeding initiatives have greatly bolstered his numbers, and worse, he has struck an alliance with the dwarves. He is crushing his way into human and elf territory to enslave them. Already thousands of innocent souls are bound under his iron grip."

Arandur looked miserable.

"Only the humans and elves stand in his way now," Sadron continued, "and we need the heroes of the world to stand together and fight. You cannot do this alone, much as you may think otherwise." He gave Kaite an almost-imperceptible frown. "Rather, you must work together for the common good, working as a cohesive unit against superior numbers and against all the odds."

Sadron rose from his seat to full height, towering over all the others.
"Xen'Desh Idlindra, I want you to lead this party, to bring hope and light to a war-torn world."
"Storyteller, I want you to record everything that transpires to the official history."
"Dionaea Sycamore, you shall be the party's scout, to guide them safely through the perils before them."
"Laina Silverstide, you shall be the party's healer, to bring them home when all is done."
"Tiberius Longshadow, you shall be the party's paladin, to guard them against any that would do them harm."
"Kaitra Elzbrn, you shall be the party's first brawler, a mighty fist to crush their foes."
"Ivan Stormwall, you shall be the party's second brawler, a bolt from the gods to smite evildoers.
"Zenovia Almire, you shall be the party's mage, the hand of the gods."

"I bid you now...stand, as Champions of Hope."

Arandur stared at him.

Sadron reddened. "Okay, that was a stupid line..." he muttered. "So sue me. It sounded nice on paper. You saw that, didn't you? Yet you didn't-"
"We've been over this."
"Yes, yes of course."

Resting an elbow on the table on being announced by her full name save for the middle initial, Kaite looked to the attendees as they were called. Eyes flicked back to Sadron from the half-elf who resolved to sit in spite of the call to stand.
"...for?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow in bemusement. A freelance to the core, simply being tasked by authority was hardly enough for Kaite to see reason behind her service beyond solid rational scaled against the weight of earnings. In her mind she owed none of the elves a moment of her time, and was hard pressed to look past her own prejudices in order to see the common good that cooperation would present, long-term.

"I received a letter, nothing more" The half-elf sighed, leaning back onto the rear two legs of their seat and crossing a leg over the other. Receiving the look from Sadron garnished with his chosen words had urged her to this point, and Kaite was curious just how badly she was 'required'. The hint of such implication worked a sly grin to her expression as she had picked up their helmet from the table, visor facing them. "If you lack imagination, I could certainly suggest a mutually beneficial price~" she chirped, though leaving the statement where it was since the enticement of a high-elf deliberating over a 'mortal's ' price was delicious, in concept, especially considering Sadron.

After a tense moment, Kaite turned her head to the other side, holding eye contact with the high-elf in a silent promise with little expressed regard other than how she shifted her feet to the floor and made to stand. "The collection's shadows meet my own; I promise little outside of the best of my abilities...but my best is the least I can offer-" She stated, tackily leaning forward to sate the idiot high-elf's request, a hand locked on the helmet laid face down into the table. "-given the circumstance" Kaite's words concluded with a shrug. While it may be disconcerting for the rest reliant on her role, the display was mostly to jar Sadron whom Kaite could only fathom would be increasingly put-off by her flimsy presented compliance. 'To be honest', a royal favor was a tall order that only a fool could pass up, and making the high-elf sweat was only an added bonus.

@Thinslayer@HawlinLaina stood instantly once she heard Sadron's words. Her fingers caressed the pages of her book as she flipped it closed and stood straight. She looked over to a girl who was still sitting. What was she thinking?! and what was her name again? Kaitra, wasn't it? The first brawler. Laina inwardly shivered. This girl sounded like a force to be reckoned with, surely.

@Thinslayer

It seemed that Zenovia had just made it in time for the meeting. The guard had let her in without as much as a question about her identity. She quietly assumed a seat somewhere and listened to Sardon. The young wood elf didn't really know what she was getting into until the man mentioned the death of a woman by the name of 'Lady Durvain', obviously someone important. Leader of the Humans if she remembered correctly. 'The Warlock' seemed quite ominous, but overall she was quite oblivious to what was actually going on. However, the death of Durvain was, of course, a terrible thing. Perhaps her spirit still lingers somewhere.

Zenovia glanced around at the others whom she assumed she would be working with, given the instructions from the leader. Everyone looked quite.. Prepared. Whereas she seemed quite unprepared, given that she only brought a sling satchel of belongings.

"Zenovia Almire, you shall be the party's mage, the hand of the gods."

She looked up at the man as she heard her name. "M-mage..? Me..?" She muttered in disbelief. She was a little apprehensive about this. Yes, she could cast magic, but it didn't have the variance of a true magician... yet. 'Hand of the gods is.. a big pair of shoes to fill.'

"Lady Durvain was slain by the Warlock".
To say that Sadron's words shocked The Storyteller would be an understatement. "Erudessa? Slain by the Warlock?" The Storyteller said in disbelief "Impossible...That's impossible! You jest, surely?". But from the looks on the faces of Sadron and Arandur, The Storyteller knew that Sadron's words were no jest.

"By the end of the last Council, we agreed that the Warlock had to be stopped" Sadron said "Allowing the orcs to proliferate was a mistake on our-".
Arandur's look gave Sadron momentary pause.
"-My part" Sadron corrected "A mistake I intend to correct. We miscalculated his strength and paid the price. By now, his abominable breeding initiatives have greatly bolstered his numbers, and worse, he has struck an alliance with the dwarves. He is crushing his way into human and elf territory to enslave them. Already thousands of innocent souls are bound under his iron grip. Only the humans and elves stand in his way now, and we need the heroes of the world to stand together and fight. You cannot do this alone, much as you may think otherwise. Rather, you must work together for the common good, working as a cohesive unit against superior numbers and against all the odds".
The Storyteller chuckled mentally, this was a story he knew all too well.

Sadron then rose from his seat to full height, towering over all the others before speaking again.
"Xen'Desh Idlindra, I want you to lead this party, to bring hope and light to a war-torn world.
Storyteller, I want you to record everything that transpires to the official history.
Dionaea Sycamore, you shall be the party's scout, to guide them safely through the perils before them.
Laina Silverstide, you shall be the party's healer, to bring them home when all is done.
Tiberius Longshadow, you shall be the party's paladin, to guard them against any that would do them harm.
Kaitra Elzbrn, you shall be the party's first brawler, a mighty fist to crush their foes.
Ivan Stormwall, you shall be the party's second brawler, a bolt from the gods to smite evildoers.
Zenovia Almire, you shall be the party's mage, the hand of the gods.
I bid you now...stand, as Champions of Hope".

The Storyteller and Arandur stared at Sadron in unison.

Sadron reddened. "Okay, that was a stupid line..." he muttered. "So sue me. It sounded nice on paper. You saw that, didn't you? Yet you didn't-"
"We've been over this" Arandur said.
"Yes, yes of course" Sadron replied.

The Storyteller chuckled at the little argument. He then waited for a few other to rise and say their peace before standing himself. "I too shall join this quest" The Storyteller said to the 2 remaining members of the High Council "It will make a most entertaining addition to my book. But as I was also invited here for my 'bold council' I will say this: I know this story all to well. It comes in forms that are as varying and diverse as the races of this world. Some I know are true. Others I know to be simply works of fiction. But in all its forms, this story has many different twists and turns. Some favourable, others not so much. So should an unfavourable turn come to pass. Should we fail in this quest. Should the darkness claim us and reach out to all corners of this land. Hide. Hide and keep yourselves alive for as long as you can. For when the true heroes arise to succeed wherever we may fail and bring an end to this story, they will benefit greatly from your guidance".

Ivan couldn't believe what he had just heard, Erudessa, the high elf council for the humans, killed.... Gone for good. Ivan had only ever seen her once or twice, never in person mind you, but she seemed like a very kind and intelligent council member. And some Warlock comes along and kills her, Ivan's friendly expression he had before the meeting was gone, replaced by an expression of anger and confusion.

The Warlock had an army of orcs and now dwarves apparently, and was slowly conquering the lands around him. The humans and high elves are the only ones that have a chance at stopping him. Ivan now understood what this meeting was about and his blood was boiling as a result. Upon being appointed as the group's brawler along with Kaitra, sparks flew as Ivan pounded the table with his fist. He rose from his seat. "Sadron, you can count on me and my blade. We will bring justice to this Warlock and his armies!"

Was he being too direct? Maybe, maybe not, but this Warlock wasn't going to get away with all that he has done. Though it begs the question... How is a rag tag group of humans and elves supposed to stop a large, everexpanding army?

Kaite's question took Sadron off guard. He jolted back as if struck, composed himself, and replied, "As soldiers, you will be paid a soldier's salary. Unlike soldiers, you may loot your enemies and keep anything you acquire. But your participation is not optional." Since you are not a Free Elf, but a half-elven bastard.

To Zenovia, Sadron took a softer tone. He put his hand on her shoulder and said quietly, "I know you are capable. You will succeed where others cannot. Don't count yourself out just yet."

Then the Storyteller stood up. "I too shall join this quest!" he declared. "It will make a most entertaining addition to my book. But as I was also invited here for my 'bold council' I will say this: I know this story all to well. It comes in forms that are as varying and diverse as the races of this world. Some I know are true. Others I know to be simply works of fiction. But in all its forms, this story has many different twists and turns. Some favourable, others not so much. So should an unfavourable turn come to pass. Should we fail in this quest. Should the darkness claim us and reach out to all corners of this land. Hide. Hide and keep yourselves alive for as long as you can. For when the true heroes arise to succeed wherever we may fail and bring an end to this story, they will benefit greatly from your guidance."

Sadron closed his eyes and nodded. "History does oft repeat itself. It is true that villains like the Warlock have risen up in the past, and they shall undoubtedly rise up again in the future. Whether the day's heroes succeed or fail, it is up to those who survive to pass the torch to those who come after them."

Ivan pounded his fist on the table. "Sadron, you can count on me and my blade. We will bring justice to this Warlock and his armies!"
The high elf offered him an enthusiastic nod. "Excellent! I believe in you. Destroy the Warlock and bring your friends home safely. I'm counting on you."

He gestured to a number of chests sitting off to the side. "I suppose now is an excellent time to provide you the supplies you'll need on your journey. Each chest contains food and survival gear. It is all yours, so you may take what you want before departing. I trust Xen will let you know when to depart."

The items in each chest were the usual - elf rations, rope, knives, cloak, matches, lantern, canteen, and iodine. But as they dug through the chests, they each found a curious silver ring tucked away in the front corner, hidden as if someone didn't want them to be found. Three letters were inscribed on the inside of the rings:

Eru.

@Thinslayer@Lord Zee
As Laina makes her way to the chests she stumbles a bit but regains herself quickly. The blush on her cheeks increases as she kneels down on the floor, skirts spilling around her body as she sorts through the stuff inside, when she gets to the bottom however and notices a gleam she frowns and reaches around until her fingers clasp around a small ring. She takes it out and inspects it carefully noting the word: Eru inscribed there, she frowns. As she looks to her side she sees the man from before he had replied to her question at the table, she supposes that he is Lord Tiberius and she gives him a friendly smile.
"What do you suppose these rings mean?" She asks, softly, gently. She did want to make friends on this mission and this person was probably one of the friendliest ones.

@tex

Fellmore was a dreary place. Naught but dust and old bones litteted the terrain, and dirt got everywhere, in your shoes, in your hair, and in your eyes. Worse, there were orcs everywhere, and they weren't the friendly kind. And as Ventus stood in the Valley of Cuprum, he found himself surrounded by just such an enemy. An orc warband 80 strong surrounded him, led by Ungrog, a notorious orc-slayer and chieftan.

Ungrog slipped his axe from its sheath and slammed it into the ground. "Ready to spill your blood, traitor?" he jeered.

@Thinslayer

As self doubt swelled in her mind, Zenovia felt someone touch her shoulder in a gentle manner. "I know you are capable. You will succeed where others cannot. Don't count yourself out just yet." Sadron said quietly to her. Such words of encouragement left her stunned for a brief moment.
"I-I'll try my best." She replied in an equally hushed tone. Of course, she still felt inadequate. However, now was the time for her to step forward and move away from her usual lifestyle of meditation and lazying about. The light of the spirits that surrounded her pulsed and glowed as if they were also trying to encourage her. She made a slight nod to herself and smiled softly as she got up from her seat.

She walked over to one of the chests that hadn't already been opened. She investigated the contents quite thoroughly. A lot of these things were necessities, but there was one thing that stood out to her. A ring with the word 'Eru' on it. It was a strange thing to write on a ring. Perhaps it wasn't? She didn't know the meaning of the word. Maybe it was a name? The elf had some suspicions about the ring. She didn't know what it would do if she wore it in some way, but she felt that it was wrong to doubt Sadron. For now, the ring was going to sit in her small hip pouch.

Zenovia was glad that she hadn't packed much into her satchel to begin with, meaning she could take the majority of these items and stuff them into her bag. 'I guess I should put the cloak on.. It'll save me from carrying it.'

Upon being directed to the chests, The Storyteller walked over to the chest closest to him and opened it up. The Storyteller took the elf rations. He was never 1 to turn down free food, especially the sort that filled you up with just 1 bite. Almost everything else was left alone, The Storyteller could conjure rope at will with his magic. He also already had a few knives on him in case he ever dropped his sword in a fight. Cloaks, canteens, matches, lanterns, and iodine were also things he already had stored in his magic satchel. Now comes the almost part. As he closed the chest, The Storyteller turned his head in a way that allowed him to see the silver ring that had been hiding in his blind spot the whole time. The Storyteller picked up the ring and examined it, quickly finding the inscription. "Odd" he murmured to himself

With the ring in hand, The Storyteller closed the chest and walked back over to Sadron and Arandur. The Storyteller had overheard 1 of his companions ask another what they thought the rings were for, but The Storyteller was a pragmatic fellow who decided to ask the people who gave out the rings what they were for. "May I ask what these silver rings you put in the chests are for?" The Storyteller asked while holding the ring between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand "Also, why has 'Eru' been inscribed on them?"

Sadron raised an eyebrow. "Rings? I did not put any rings in the chests. Show me one."

He stretched out his hand to the Storyteller.

"I found it in the font corner of the chest I had selected, I would have missed it had I not turned my head in a way that brought it out of my blind spot" The Storyteller said as he placed his ring on the palm of Sadron's hand "And from the sounds of things, I'm not the only 1 who's found a ring in their chest".

"Tss-soldier salary" Kaite quietly chuckled, rolling her eyes as Sadron answered her. Still, it was more than nothing, and the mention of free reign on anything in corpse pockets piqued her interest at the idea of what a warlock could possibly have. Being told that pilfering was allowed had already won her over since the money meant little to her, though the extra mention of her participation not being optional wiped the smugness off her face. Wanting to go along was one thing, being 'required' to go was something else that rubbed her the wrong way.
"Yeh, I'll bring ya back a souvenir, gramps. Maybe something in red" Kaite darkly joked in an uninterested musing tone, spinning the helmet on the table to imply the likelihood of bringing back the warlock's head if possible. Whoops and hollers abroad, Kaite didn't understand everyone's willingness to be forced on such a quest, but at least they seemed enthusiastic. It was certain to at least be an interesting journey with the mix of characters.

Kaite couldn't miss out on boxes of goods, especially on the elves' dime. While it was standard equipment, the ring stood out as it had with a few of the others in the group. "Oh, Sadron, you shouldn't have" she quickly and quietly muttered, comparing the ring to her gauntlet which she wasn't about to remove in order to try it on. Her humors were curbed by Sadron's response to the rings being brought up as not being his idea.

@ineffable
Sadron had pointed out the chests in the corner of the meeting area, each one filled with standard survival items for each of the group members. Ivan opened up a chest for himself to find the usual traveling necessities, rations, rope, knives, a lantern and canteen, and some iodine. The elves went all out despite these items being easily replaceable, though one thing caught Ivan's eye, something that caught everyone's eye apparently. A ring, in each chest, with trhee letters inscribed on it, eru.

"What do you suppose these rings mean?" Ivan turned his head to Laina's question on these rings. He looked his over, it seemed like a normal ring but... "Hmm... Well, they don't look special... Though appearances can be decieving, besides I'm quite curious as to how they got here if Sadron didn't know about them." Ivan was well aware that Laina's question was to Tiberius, but he couldn't help but answer, he was quick to start a conversation with someone, plus these rings seemed a bit suspicious.

Tiberius did not say a word as he listened and gauged everyone's reactions. The loss of Erudessa pained him, she had been the High Elf responsible for looking after the humans and even though he had never met her, he respected her. He would help fight this 'warlock' for nothing more then to stop evil from spreading across the land and destroying innocent lives. That was enough motivation for him and he disapproved of how Kaite wanted compensation. It wasn't really the time or place for that. Protecting people was what he did with his life, and he would gladly do the same for these new people that were to stop this new threat.

When Sadron was done speaking, he just sat there, not really into the whole 'standing up' thing but a inquisitive look was on his face. He wanted to know more about this warlock and what Erudessa had been doing for her to meet him and death. But, at the mention of the chests all attention went to what was inside them. Since Tiberius had pretty much everything he needed already on him, he took little and only what he truly required.

To his surprise, Laina asked him an odd question. The rings? Oh right, the rings mentioned in his letter! He was supposed to test it out or something along that line before the others received there's or that was what he thought at least.

"A ring? How odd, I'm sure its nothing." He said nervously. What was he supposed to do? He could tell them, probably but was it a good idea?

Then everyone else found their ring and the Storyteller even said the word inscribed upon it but not the wish to follow up. It must only work that way.

He sighed then spoke aloud, "I believe I can explain the mysterious ring. You see, I was given a letter yesterday before I received the invitation to this meeting. In this letter it stated I would be receiving the letter to the meeting and the ring. It was right after all, and now I stand before you here. I don't believe it to be evil in anyway but merely a gift for this quest." He paused letting that information sink in.

"Its magical after all and will grant a wish. First you must say the word inscribed in it and then state your wish. So that you all know I'm telling the truth, I will demonstrate. By the way, good job Storyteller, the letter specifically states not tell Sadron but I guess it would be unavoidable given the circumstances."

He looked slightly nervous and took in a deep breath before continuing, "Okay, here goes nothing. Eru, I wish for whoever created these rings to come forth and reveal themselves, please."

He looked around waiting for something to happen.

What he had asked for was beyond the ring's power, but he could not have known that. Instead, his body was bathed in light. A set of wings seemingly made of fire appeared on his back. What was summoned looked for all the world like an angel, a sign that the power behind the ring was supporting them from beyond the grave.

Sadron dropped his staff.

"Impossible."