The rooftops of Averine stand against the backdrop of a blue sky slowly greying as the morning threatens rain. The market was already busy, with some merchants setting up their stalls while others call their merchandise above the hustle and bustle in the street while the market guards keep a stroll nonchalantly about with their spears watching for thieves. A heavily built, tall man with a mop of messy black hair and even messier beard boasts about the quality of the Blacksteel arms and armour he is selling. Butchers, grocers, carpenters, jewellers, cloth merchants try their best to beat the competition and to sell their wares as the market gets busier and busier.

By the port a fishmonger wanders the docks with a wheel barrel full of his morning catch, peddling them to those he thinks might be interested. Rumour has it there was a murder in the early hours of the morning, a sailor off a ship just in from Delucia lost three card games in a row and accused his opponent of cheating, one thing lead to another and the sailor was stabbed leading to one of the three men involved being apprehended while the other escaped.

Outside the city the townsfolk from the surrounding farms plough fields and care for their cattle. A man in an ornate breastplate and matching morion carrying a pike heads towards the city gates with a bound and shackled, wolfish-looking man in tow. Even further afield the citizens of the Empire go about their daily lives with no knowledge of rumours or strange happenings. Save for the occasional blood feud, the rumour of horrid monsters sighted here and there, it would seem that all is well in Avelierys, and without so much as an insult or scandal involving the nobles for weeks one might wonder how long this apparent wellness can keep up.

Velta munched on a chicken leg as she listened to to morning rain hammer the docks outside her office. Ever so often she would glance up at the sky, hoping against hope that the weather would clear up. Bad weather was bad for business, and she had a batch of slaves that needed selling soon, least they'd have to wash them off again.
She paused in her chewing, her frown softening as she addressed the two other members of her staff.
" When you are done with breakfast I want you to take the merchandise outside to wash off the last weeks filth. The rain's cleaner than the sea. " She seems rather pleased with herself, although soon she adds in a thoughtful manner. " You should take them out back, so people don't throw things at them. They are branded but you know how children get when it's muddy."
Velta dropped the half finished chicken leg onto her plate and wiped her fingers on a moist towel. She could afford to waste food, she could even afford to feed her staff, all because she didn't waste an opportunity. However small it might seem. Clean slaves sold better than the ones that smelled.

As her personal Sethkra'Vesh, which she called Lisa in fits of affection and Stinking Filth all the other time, cleared the table, Velta turned her attention to the days mail hoping it might contain something other than bills for once.

( Location: Averine city; The docks. )

"Madame Rose woke up early" the girls would gossip as the shapely, brown skinned woman exits her quarters. "Good morning. Finish cleaning and go get some sleep" she says with an almost maternal tone. "Beth, I want to speak with you when I'm back", Rose suspects someone is taking a higher fee for themselves and she will not have it.
The girls in The Garden were her girls, she wouldn't let them go hungry or cold, and unlike those that worked the streets, her girls didn't show up dead in an alley, becausa Rose would always look over her flowers. Yet, whores need to be reminded who they work for, from time to time.
But first, Madame Rose will go to the docks, find some new petals for her garden, little girls she can groom, and save from slavery, as soon as the debt is paid. She has a good heart after all, or so she tells herself.
In a dark blue dress with vertical yellow stripes, breasts and waist squeezed into a tight corset, Rose doesn't go unoticed when walking through the Delucian district, nor did she want to. People know who she is.
She walks with a calm pace, until she arrives at the docks.

(location: Delucian district and Docks)

As the morning continues to unfold and the rain begins to hammer down all over the city and nearby countryside the docks get busier and busier. Ships continue to set sail and make port, always on a tight schedule. Men and women from all sorts of different places, now living in warehouses by the docks start their jobs, they haul crates from place to place, and set up market stalls. Stronger and more experienced workers load and unload cargo, cover hulls in tar and make much needed repairs to many of the ships which are docked in port. A merchant, taking advantage of the rain offers cheap woollen and leather hoods to passers by.

Wealthier residents of the docks living in rented apartments or perhaps even houses also begin to show themselves, made distinguishable from the rest mostly due to a lack of enforcement of the old sumptuary laws of the land. These richer people head in all directions for many a purpose, the few of them who remain in the docks are most likely ship-masters, retired mercenaries and wealthy merchants who import and export expensive foreign goods.

Guards lazily wander the docks in pairs breaking up any fights which might have gone too far and searching for ne'er-do-wells to arrest. A gigantic, self-proclaimed captain of a new company of mercenaries dressed in a gleaming steel half-plate and matching barbute helmet patrols the wharf, calling out to all who will hear him: "The Band of the Blue are seeking able bodied men and women to hunt monstrous beasts to the far east in exchange for coin!"


Velta's assistant disappears out of the back door at her command to ensure that her merchandise are clean and presentable as Velta checks through a diminutive pile of mostly uninteresting mail, the seal upon one of the letters however, catches her eye. The letter addressed to her bears the red wax seal of House Sauvage and penned in a neat, professional hand. it reads:

"To one most revered Velta Burr of Averine City

I am writing to you today on behalf of Lady Sauvage who has need of the unique services you offer. House Sauvage requires a young Sethkra'Vesh of either sex which must be healthy-bodied and no older than 11, failing that a pair of equally healthy adults at breeding age will suffice should you be willing to forfeit your bonus payment. You will be compensated for your efforts in acquiring these resources at 250% of your usual rate, additionally should Lady Sauvage find herself particularly pleased by the skilled and loyal servant you provide in the years to come, a small estate outside of Averine City with land included will be added to your payment. Should you find our Lady's terms agreeable she requests that you enclose a reply along with this letter within an envelope addressed to myself as soon as you are able.

Gareth Nolani, Financial and business administrator of House Sauvage
House Sauvage
Averine City"

Whether or not the letter is fake it's difficult to tell, but if it is a fake then it certainly is convincing, and it is common knowledge that one Gareth Nolani does indeed handle all of Lady Sauvage's business dealings.


The Garden was by no means bustling this early in the morning, but that is not to say it is barren. Men and women of varying social standing trickle in and out as the morning progresses, leaving and entering through the front door. Some wake up late, hungover and groggy from the previous evening's misdeeds and have to rush to dress and make it to wherever they might work.

As the Madame left the Brothel to make her way south to the docks many a passer by would, as always, react to her in different ways. Where some frown and share a venomous whisper between one another, some stare, some ignore her and some throw a fleeting glance in her direction, others smile, nod and wave. Madame Rose was well known in the Delucian district, for good or ill, and regardless of her overall reputation and what everyone in the city thought of her most knew who she was one way or another.

Once rows of well built apartments, houses and cottages slowly became rarer in favour of the frequently run down and the ramshackle she could tell she was nearing the seafront. By now Rose was getting uncomfortably damn, people buzzed by her and far fewer seemed to know who she was as she passed by the Siren's Pride tavern which marks the end of the Delucian district and the beginning of the port.

A rather large puddle had begun to form on the cobblestone in front of a rather unsightly inn. It was not a well-kept place, so much so that it didn't even have a proper name. The word "Inn" carved lazily into a wooden sign hanging out front was the only distinction that this was, in fact, a business of sorts.
The interior was not impressive, to say the least. There was one table in the corner, old and starting to rot. The chairs that surrounded it were often wobbly and uneven. The innkeep himself matched the decor: unkempt and dirty. The comforts of the inn were not what drew travelers to it, however. It was the price.

Ryker emerged from one of the few rooms that morning, looking much the way he had when he had arrived the night before. His hair was a mess, what strands remained tied back were of little consequence as most of his hair hung in his face. His clothes were dirty, his boots caked in mud. He nodded silently at the innkeeper as he made his way to the exit.
The door creaked open as he stepped outside. He looked up at the clouds as he felt the rain on his head. He let out a quiet scoff as he lowered his head and continued out into the elements.
As he walked towards the docks, he began to work on his appearance. Not that it mattered much to him how he looked, he just wanted to get his hair out of his face. He pulled more strands back into the band that was holding some and used the rain water to wash off some grime from his face.
He glanced up when he heard a welcome phrase: "in exchange for coin." He adjusted his blacksteel longsword on his back and approached the giant of a man.
"Looking for hunters?" he asked. "Happens that I'm from the far east. I know the lands well."

[Location: The Docks]

Velta reads the letter, only to turn it over to see if she had missed something. After inspecting the seal she reads it again and just to be sure a third time. Eventually she stands up, dons a cloak, and heads outside to where the merchandise were enjoying their shower. Even the cold rain was better than the cramped holding pen they were usually kept in.

The plump woman takes her time to inspect the wares. Children were rare to survive the trip with her brothers caravans and ships but were highly priced, and tended to sell first. They were after all easy to teach, and break. Teenagers were often pleasing to the eyes, if the taste ran such ways but tended to have unruly spirits. Unfit for finer work. She had plenty of grown ups and teens, but no children.
She muttered a few words to the keepers and made sure that two of the better looking adults were taking to the throphy pen, where they would be better fed and cared for, just in case...

Her brothers were due back with a ship any day now...

Alexandra arrived in Averine a few days ago and though she never liked singing to the "filth" of the city, the only tavern that would take up on her offer to sing for a few nights instead of paying for her room and food was the one at the docks.
This could be hardly called a "tavern" by all accounts but it had a small stage set up for desperate bards from which to sing from. Opening her window in the morning, she noticed something that she never liked. It was raining. Rain would mean that the people that may search for adventurers for hire might not be around or that only the worse jobs will be offered but nothing will stop the Siren. Rain also meant that she had to wear her leather armor and a robe to hide her lute under and protect her from a cold. Illness and bards, even ex-bards didn't go hand to hand.
Quickly dressing up so that she wouldn't miss out most of the morning, she went down the stairs of the tavern and moved with purpose, ignoring some of the patrons that were still at their tables either drunk or sleeping.

" I'll be staying a few more nights most likely so I'll be singing some more. " Alexandra said without bothering to wait for a reply from the innkeeper. She knew that he wouldn't refuse her, patrons drank more and 'thus spent more when a bard was performing.

She went towards the door and saw a man cleaning his hair in the rain, shook her head and moved past him. Someone was screaming his lungs off about a job for sellswords and she knew this was her chance. She approached the man and smiled at him warmly.

" Good morning my dear soldier! I do hope that you have an extra place for the Siren to take, right? "

(Location - Docks)

The mercenary captain had made his way over to the doorway of one of the many warehouses by the wharf, standing under the cheap wooden door canopy to save his armour from the rain. As Ryker approaches and addresses him, the man reaches up and removes his helmet to reveal his face. He is in his early fifties, red cheeked with a jolly demeanour and impressive black moustache with tips waxed and trained so that they curl upwards as if mimicking his smile.

"You're as bad as I am, man, spending all our money on swords and daggers, only to end up with none spare to buy a good hood!" he says, following up with a hearty chuckle. He leans back against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest and adds "Aye, as it happens I am looking for hunters." just as he is addressed by an approaching woman.

He grins a toothy grin, his bright eyes flitting between Ryker and Alexandra. "Would you look at that, two of you already and it isn't even noon. Good, hopefully this means I don't have to make my pitch twice!" The man pushes off from the doorframe and looks up at the sky. "How about we head indoors and have a talk there? There's an inn just around the corner, or if you're up for a walk we can head to the Siren's Pride further north, nice and cozy that one." he adds quickly, his expectant gaze falling upon Ryker first and then flitting between he and Alexandra once again.


Ships continued to make port and set sail, however no sign of a slaver vessel crewed by any of the Burr brothers showed itself, but that is not to say it would not still do so, the docks themselves were huge and very busy and with ships from all over the Empire making their stops.

Caravans coming and going by way of the farmland to the east of the city gates were rarer, but also offered slavers the best means to capture valuable Human slaves from the barbarian tribes, or better yet Dregs from the Dreglands to the north and west. One such caravan carrying an assortment of slaves happened to be making its way towards the city gates now, but unfortunately for Velta it was neither owned by nor had any association to the Burr family, nor was it indeed carrying any Sethkra'Vesh children.

Ryker shot a quick glance at Alexandra as she approached, looked her up and down then raised an eyebrow. "The Siren? I think I've seen you before. Aren't you a singer?" He had been in and out of taverns from all over the continent for years now, so he had heard many bards in his time. But hearing the Siren sing stood out among others. There was just something about her voice that you remembered. While he wasn't sure what a bard would be doing fighting monsters, but he would just have to wait and see.

"If you're buying, I'll go wherever you want," he said, only partly joking, turning his attention back to the mercenary captain. His statement was fairly accurate. As skillful as Ryker was in his profession, blacksteel was expensive and his coin purse was proof of that. Still, his purchase was justified. Killing monsters was dangerous work and, without the proper tools, it was downright deadly. Besides, Ryker was never one to splurge on frivolous things like beds or nice clothes.

Far to the east of Averine City, at the outer edge of the farmlands, a small cottage butted up against the rim of the forest. Facing west, the tips of the tallest buildings of the city were just visible near the horizon, if she stood on the porch and strained her eyes. She'd not done so for years, but as a child, she would shimmy up one of the posts holding up the porch roof and cry out, "Look, Papa! I can see the city!" The thrill of glimpsing the distant town was almost as fun as the inevitable boom of laughter that would erupt from her father, as he hoisted her back down in his large, gentle hands.

Out here, life moved at a vastly different pace, compared to the bustle and hum of the city streets. Here, she was awakened by the barking of dogs rather than the cries of merchants and dockworkers. Here, the view from the front stoop was pleasantly rolling fields and hollows, dotted with other farmsteads, though none were too close, and the sensation of freedom and space was everything.

A wire-furred head nudged against her hand, as she stood now on the porch, musing absently, while her cornflower-blue eyes gazed off into the morning mists. She glanced down with an easy grin, running her fingers over the grey ears. "Ready for breakfast, aren't you?" Turning to wander back into the humble little house, she chuckled gently. "I believe I am, too!"

(Location: Eastern farmlands)

Life in the countryside was slower paced than in the capital city, though that doesn't mean that it's any easier. The citizens of the Empire living this far east of the city on the borders of the forest where the farmlands begin to come to an end live a life of quiet, idyllic wholesomeness. Far from the rush of the city but close enough to enjoy what comforts it provides, while also avoiding the constant hard manual labour, the thread of deadly monsters and bitter climates found further east. That is not to say the place is without its dangers, for when problems do arise experience will tell they will do so anywhere.

A mile north of the East Imperial road, which is the main road leading to and from the capital this side of the city sits Kettlebrook, a quaint old rural village with an even quainter name, and if one were to continue north from Kettlebrook along a small dirt road one will find Emirien's cottage. Fortunately for Emirien and the villagers, the rain cloud looming over the capital doesn't quite reach this far east, and those who make their home in Kettlebrook and the neighbouring countryside may, for now at least, enjoy a calm, cool, if slightly misty morning

Is is along the road leading north from Kettlebrook that a young man in his early twenties with a head of tousled brown hair and patchy beard, dressed in a coarse sky-blue linen tunic and brown breeches and armed with a wooden hunting bow and iron seax makes his way towards Emirien's cottage. A man she may recognise upon his approach as a hopeful and adventurous jack-the-lad from the village, Davian Swan.

The front door had been left slightly ajar, as was her habit to do, for she loved the feeling of the breeze dancing through the house, fluttering the curtains and carrying the scents of the countryside, whether it be the floral sweetness of spring or the pungent damp of an approaching summer storm. A reckless habit, some might say, but the pair of wiry-haired grey hounds that lived in the house were the best sort of alarm, as well as a deterrent to thieves and troublemakers who might hear of the girl who was alone in the cottage since the untimely passing of her father and mother.

She had scarcely put the kettle over the hearth, preparing to make herself a cup of tea, when the larger of the two dogs, a stocky male beast, let out a soft chuff; not quite a bark, more of a curious, questioning sound. Emmy turned and looked back along the length of the hallway from the kitchen. She could see the front door standing open, and two grey rumps in the gap, as both dogs stood looking out into the yard.

Turning away from the fire, she moved back along the short corridor, brushing her hands over the apron covering her front.

"What is it, you two?" she asked softly, leaning to peer out over their heads. The approaching figure coming along the path towards the house drew a sudden squinting of her eyes as she tried to quickly determined who it might be. That bright blue tunic was familiar, certainly, and the closer the man walked, the more keenly she strove to recall his name. The male hound, Coby, gave another soft grunt, and padded out across the stoop, down the steps and into the grass with his ears perked and tail stiff, ready to meet the visitor.

(Location: Eastern farmlands near Kettlebrook)

Looking at the mercenary captain, Alexadra nodded.
" Let's go to the Siren's Pride. It seems proper and I know the innkeeper, his wife makes a good meal. A good meal, considering where we are. " she pulled the robe tighter around her as the cold was getting into her skin already. Alexandra always hated this part of a journey and most of the times, even stories skip this part for this very reason.

Sparing a glance at the rugged mercenary with the obsidian sword and smiled then quickly nodded. Someone was bound to recognize her and she pleased, if this mercenary knew her then he would become her best friend. She knew, she was not a good fighter but with her voice and other...apparent skills, she could pass most situations. The situations that she couldn't pass was when she didn't have a choice and had to fight. In those situations, the mercenary would prove useful.

" Indeed I am. A fan, I presume? Lovely. " she approached the rugged mercenary and despite his smell, she approached and whispered in his ear.

" We need to talk. Alone.For now, help me convince this guy that we are team and that we never separate and you'll be rewarded in due time."

---double post...stupid phone...sorry---

The approaching man waved and called something, most likely a greeting but even when raising his voice he was barely audible. He kept a constant pace upon his approach and didn't look in the least bit threatening as he meandered closer at a lazy pace, and when the curious dogs approached him to investigate he let them smell his hands and gently patted their heads in greeting.

Once within obvious earshot he spoke again, quieter this time but still raising his voice slightly to ensure that he is heard "Ho there, Emmy. All's well this morning I hope?" he asks, raising a hand and scratching the back of his head as he comes to a halt within comfortable talking distance of Emirien.

---

The mercenary captain nods, barks "Come along then, you two." and beckons before turning and striding proudly up one of the alleyways which one without the know of the city could easily get lost in, but all tend to converge into roads and main streets eventually. The side streets in this part of the port were dank and badly lit, with overhanging buildings which seemed poised as if to topple and crush those who walked below at any moment, still, such constructions offered those walking below limited protection from rain and wind.

The mercenary captain seemed to know his walk, and walked with purpose, a jolly bounce in his step. As they walked, a well kept and undoubtedly well guarded house or apartment occasionally drew the eye, some of which had gardens and fewer still were even made of actual stone. This style of stone houses became more and more common until the three left a side street and found themselves in an open street just outside of the Delucian district.

The sign of the Siren's Pride inn, with the name in a stylised black fond above a painting the old Empress' battleship swung like a pendulum in the wind as the mercenary captain entered and held the door for his two companions. Inside the inn a few small groups sit dotted around tables, a pair of bouncers armed with oak cudgels stand on opposite ends of the room, the closest one nodding at the captain, Ryker and Alexandra as they enter. "Let's find ourselves a table and order some drinks, then we can talk business. Aye?" He says with a single clap of his leather-clad hands.

A ready, bright smile broke out over her youthful features as she realized who was approaching the house. The second dog, a female called Nell, followed after Coby now, while her tail windmilled in a friendly fashion.

"Davian Swan," she called back to him, setting a hand on her hip and giving him an affable, teasing tilt of her head. "It's too early this morning for trouble like yourself. What brings you around, hmm?"

She chuckled softly as both dogs circled about his legs now, wet noses pressing curiously against his hands and over his trousers to see where he'd been. From the kennel nearby - a long, low, wooden building within a stone's throw of the house - more voices joined in the greeting with a chorus of good-natured barks and yips.

Slightly confused, but not one to question new prospects, Ryker gave a quick nod at the bard before following the mercenary captain. As they entered the nicer parts of the city, he was sure to stick out, as he had not cleaned his leather armor since dirtying it a few days prior. He was not the self-conscious type, however, so he paid no mind.

The Siren's Pride stood in stark contrast to the inn he had slept in the night before. Stepping in, he paused to survey the area. He took note of the guards as well as two particularly large men sitting at a table far in the back. If they posed any kind of threat to the small group, was uncertain, but Ryker decided to keep an eye on them anyway.

Finding a table near a wall, Ryker nodded. "This one looks good," he stated as he made his way over.

Davian kneels to give the dogs some attention, first he ruffles Coby's ears and jestfully comments "You've gotten fat, boy, yes you have." before greeting and cuddling Nell in the same manner. He ruffles their coats with his hands as he looks up at and addresses Emirien. "Trouble, eh? My reputation as bringer of chaos precedes me." he says as he gets up, brushes some loose strands of hair aside and flashes Emirien a smile. "As to what brings me around. Well, I figured I'd head north into the woods and hunt some game bird." He points northwards, past the cottage towards the forest and adds, without missing a heartbeat "Thought maybe you or some of your dogs might want to join unless you're too busy. Looks like this decent weather is going to hold up into noon."

---

The mercenary captain, after following Ryker and Alexandra to their table takes a seat, removes his helm which he then places onto the table in front of him and leans forward, resting his elbows upon the tabletop as he idly twiddles his moustache. "Righto, my name is Miguel Vito, some folks call me the Beast Eater." He says, chuckling at the last part.

"As you heard I'm looking for a few sellsword types to bolster the Band of the Blue, we've a job coming up and I won't lie, it's going to be a long, dangerous one that'll probably take several months." He pauses briefly at that to gauge the reactions of his companions, eyeing them briefly though it is clear he fully intents to continue talking. "We'll be taking a caravan eastwards along the Imperial Road to the end of the Empire taking odd jobs along the way, then we'll double back and make our way through the forest on the journey back. During that time we'll be looking to capture Dreg slaves and bring them back to here where one of my boys will auction them off. Once again, Miguel pauses briefly and leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he does so. "You said that your name's the Siren, right? And what about you, my man, what is it I should call you?

Alexandra followed the mercenary captain without saying another word. Entering the Delucian district was a sign for her, a sign that things will go for the better.
Soon they entered the inn and with a quick nod and a few words to the innkeeper, some food was brought to the table that the rugged mercenary chose for them.

" I've talked with the innkeeper, there is no need to pay for the refreshments 'nor the food. He owes for the last time I was here and with this, his debt to me is fulfilled. " said Alexandra matter of factly as if it was a normal thing for a person to be owned favors by innkeepers.

She then proceeded to listen to the mercenary captain's offer and nodded when he asked if she was the Siren.
" Indeed. Now, I've got a question and a condition Mister Vito. I'll join up with your mercenary band on one condition, we won't take jobs that will hurt villagers or those that don't seek to cheat their fellow man. That is my condition and of my companion. " she took a small break and nodded towards the rugged mercenary then she continued talking.
" As for the question. By any chance will we pass through Aester? A small village in the east with a great inn that makes the finest venison you'll ever eat. "
Aester was the village Alexandra was born and with this job, it meant she could travel back and see what has happened to it.

Ryker nodded slightly as the mercenary describes the job. An interesting prospect, nothing too strange as far as he was concerned. He was quite curious, however, what the Siren was doing here. He wasn't so ignorant to think that women couldn't fight, but one known for her voice was not usually what one pictured on journeys such as these. But those were questions he was holding off until he could speak with her privately, as she seemed to be hiding something from the mercenary captain.

Turning his attention back to Miguel, he nodded with the Siren's statement. "Name's Ryker. I've been on jobs like this before, although usually not so long. What's the pay like?"