Long have these young travelers walked to reach the very frontier into an unknown but beautiful land. Pass verdant mountains and unspoiled wilderness, through budding villages and bubbling creeks, until at last the newcomers were greeted by the mighty wooden palisade of the Frontier Town. There two guardsmen halted the travelers until a young man who looked like a scholarly sort arrived. “Greetings, welcome to the Frontier Town. My name is Dormic.” This young man would help the newcomers familiarize themselves to the town, and even those who were merely travelers were welcomed to enjoy what pleasantries the town had to offer.

Traveler and adventurers immediately set off towards the inn to rest and plan their next move while those who wished to seek residence in the town were encouraged to come with the scribe to the Townhall. As they walked they would get a good glimpse of the goings on in town; children with thick leather bound books and stationary were being marched over to a large school building by young adults, men and women alike were working at various smithies and smelters to work raw ore, and the everyday man and woman simply going about their business, many appeared to be healthy, some even fat; this place seemed to eat well.

Soon the travelers would come across a large band of armed men and women who didn’t seem to pay them any mind. Their weapons and armor seem uniform enough; they looked like the guards up from. Another group walked pass carrying two large deer, sending the corpse to a butcher so it can be skinned and carved. And at last, the people would arrive to the town hall. It appeared that there was some construction going on with a group of men digging and hole and a few others reading over a sheet of paper with an ornate blue vase on it. One of the men looking over the sheets was an orcish man in full plate armor. He seemed ragged as if he just returned from a fight.

Once the group arrived to the town hall, where they were directed to a large orientation room. More scribes arrived to help each traveler fill out a simple questionnaire; names, where they came from, their skills, and what they hope to find here in the Frontier Town. The scribes didn’t seem to be too interested in conversation, though they noted down everything said with a smile.

”First and foremost, I would like to formally welcome you to the Frontier Town. Though we’ve only settled in these lands for three years, we’ve accomplished much in such a short time thanks to the community and skills of our people. As you may have noticed, this town isn’t just humans; we have many races from all over the world here to cooperate and help the Frontier Town prosper. We do not discriminate here; if you are skillful and honest you can achieve anything here.” Dormic seemed genuine, though whether or not that was because he was a good liar or just naive was yet to be seen. He nodded towards the scribes who started passing out scrolls.

What you’re about to receive right now is a map of our town. Though we’re a small town, this should help you find your way around if you need something. Major locations are the Town Hall, which of course you could find easily enough. Next there’s Maeda’s School if you wish to learn something new. And of course, the Drunken Dragon inn. A fine establishment for drinks, food, and rooms. Speaking of which,” Dormic clapped his hands and the scribes handed out some sandalwood tags. ”These are room vouchers for the Drunken Dragon. Just hand them off to the barkeep or his helpers and they’re good for three nights. Hopefully by then you’d find yourself a steady job to pay for your room or even buy a house or a plot of land.”

”I should also mention that in about two weeks, the Frontier Town will be holding it’s Harvest Festival. A yearly celebration of the town’s humble beginnings and harvest time of course. There will be feasting and merriment, but also various activities, games, and even a tournament where wonderful prizes could be won. Anyone in town was welcomed to join. If you’d like to have some money before the festival comes up so you can enjoy and buy some gifts, the mines could always use more workers if you’re strong. Barthen’s Bartered Goods also could use additional clerks and movers. The Temple of Torag was accepting acolytes, as well as the church of Pharasma. Now if that’s all, you’re free to go. I’ll be around town if you have any questions.”

Whether or not the newcomers did have any questions, there was plenty abuzz around town. The Black Mines were recently closed today; one of the miners stumbled onto some sort of hidden chamber while digging, filled with old skeletons and strange artifacts. Out of fear that they might have stumbled upon a crypt the mines have been sealed off so the garrison could gather an exploration team to ensure the place is of no threat to the town. Additionally, there has been a string of robberies recently. It hasn’t been anything too severe however; mostly just signs of forced entry, a bit of vandalism, and people’s food being stolen. Still people are on the lookout.

Sips recently opened up a job position for his tavern; he needs a courier who can go to the outlying villages to pick up crops and ingredients he needs to run the inn. He’s offering 2 gold coins per week, and would offer bonuses if they’re good. Additionally those who work for him get free food and room while employed. Barthen’s put up a bounty for medicinal herbs in the forest, paying 1 gold per pound of the stuff. The forest have been relatively safe since the Red Bear had moved in, keeping most predators out of the woods, though people could still be careful. Lastly, Maeda recently came into supply of some yew wands. She’s willing to teach the basics of magic to anyone who can pay for lessons, 5 GP a week. All of the money will go into funding the school to buy better books, writing supplies, and possibly hiring assistant teachers.

---

---

The winding, cramped tunnels always seemed to ring with the echoing rhythm of the mining shanties. Even when no voice was raised, he could swear he heard them. Maybe he was just crazy--a lot of guys went off, after spending long enough down here, isolated from sun and birdsong and other living people who didn't spend most of their day covered in dirt and grime. Or maybe the stones had just absorbed the voices over the years, maybe the energy simply reverberated up and down the shafts, trapped forever in the rocks. Nonetheless, Antaeus hummed to himself as he pushed the cart--heavy, crafted from hardwood and bound with iron, its big wheels screeching on the tracks under the weight, yet nonetheless it gave way under his considerable muscle despite his age--and he timed his steps to the rhythm.



He wondered if any of the other guys would look down on him now, call him a coward for leaving after what happened. Or if they'd blame him for the mine being closed, and for the expeditioners coming down here to muck about with their tunnels. Was it really his fault? He hadn't put the tomb down there, or whatever it was. He hadn't even gone into it. As soon as he felt his pick hit open air on the other side of that wall, he'd pulled back--good thing too, because air that had been trapped in an underground pocket like that for who knew how many years could be poisonous. But the whole wall had come crumbling down, and there it was. He wondered what would have happened if he had taken that step over the threshold? Would the skeletons have all come to life, brandishing weapons and glowing with fire in their eye sockets? He had heard stories like that before. Was he a coward for heeding them? What would his father have done?

"Ain't no treasure worth nothin' down here, boy. Put foolish thoughts of strikin' gold outta yer mind. We ain't diggin' for boogers up our noses down here--at any minute, any damned second, everything around you can come down. So PAY ATTENTION."

For all the bitter, dream crushing advice his father had always given him...it was fairly solid advice, nonetheless. Even if he had never followed it well enough to suit the man.

He reached the dumping station and lowered his buttocks, using his legs instead of his back to lift the cart up onto its front wheels. The rocks tumbled out, and with his foot he nudged the stopper down on its hinge to keep the cart from rolling back down the tracks. Slapping his hands together--out and away from his face--he left behind a cloud of stone dust as he walked towards the distant light at the end of the tunnel. What wouldn't come off his hands he wiped on his roughspun clothes. You never wore good stuff down here for a reason--only his ragged boots offered any protection at all, to keep the stone and gravel from slicing open his feet.

He covered his eyes as he reached the entrance to the mine, blinking rapidly to try and readjust. He sometimes wondered why his genie/earth elemental/whatever the hell it was heritage didn't grant him some form of Darkvision--wouldn't that have come in useful, down underground? But soon enough he could make out the tall, slightly furry figure--even compared to Antaeus himself, who was no shrimp--of Bookie, the assistant overseer.

"Mr. Bookie! Could I have a moment?" he called, raising one hand as he approached. Provided the overseer would stop to listen, Antaeus took a deep breath. "Um, sir, I've been thinking a lot about some things recently. And with the mine closing, this'll be as good an opportunity as any..." He rubbed one of his broad shoulders self-consciously. "Would you be willing to write me...a letter of recommendation? To the Captains of the garrison...or maybe even the Paladins or just...somebody? I...I'd like to become an adventurer..."

The overseer would no doubt recognize the change in his usual mood. Normally Antaeus was swinging a pick and belting out the worker's songs with the best of them, and never held back whenever the men threw their occasional keggers in the barracks. The only person he ever acted nervous around, normally, was his father.

---

---

Traveling, had been an utter bore.

The first leg of her journey she was able to make it in relative luxury. A luxurious wagon pulled by the fastest horses in Alenoa. She spent most of the time reading over a number of tomes and books she had bought with her, traveling mostly in silence. Nothing she wasn't used too, but without the bustle and activity of the usual maids, especially her sister and her maid Nynette there to pester her, it was particularly lonely she had to admit. She had grown used to the maids doting in recent years, so as she covered the first leg of her journey she took in the sights. The warm, vast plains. The small, budding villages and their picturesque landscapes.

Ugh.

The last leg of her journey had to be taken on foot. The carriage wouldn't go so far out into the frontier, especially without proper protection so she was forced to go on foot. Not that she particularly minded, it was just a chore and she wasn't exactly the most athletic of people. She had to leave the reading material behind, too. At least when she was dropped off at the farthest stop the wagon could make, she met up with another group of travelers making their way to the Frontier so at least it wasn't too unbearable. Still, she stood out quite a bit from the rabble that was gathered. Fancy dress, cloak and the crest of a noble house. She ignored their looks, and mostly kept to herself for the duration of their travel until finally, after what seemed like months of traveling, she reached the large wooden palisades of the town.

After waiting for some time, the group was finally let in. A guide? How thoughtful. Pulling her cloak more tightly around her, Livia followed the crowd, eager not to stand out too much. Too much attention right now would be particularly difficult. She could easily barge her way in with the status, bypassing all this silly hubbub, but her first goal was to blend in and figure out what was going on in the town.

Ignoring the Inn, she followed the scribe to the Townhall. Curious - they even had a school out here. Perhaps she could find job teaching there. She was rather well learned, after all. A thought for later after she met with the Mayor and settled in. Continuing on, past the sweltering heat of the smithies and the group of obvious hunters and Militia, she finally made it to the townhall with the others. She allowed herself to be directed to the large orientation room where she was given a small questionnaire to fill out.

Hm.

"Lady Livia Fiore." She replied coolly, not caring if her name was particularly recognized or not. "Yes, the one from Alenoa. Scholar and skilled with Arcane lore." She fell silent, a stern expression forming on her lips before replying to the final piece. "...Heh, who knows." She smiled faintly. "But I intend to make full use of my time here." She turned, leaving the scribe with that vague answer before turning back to Dormic, listening intently to his words.

The scribe seemed honest and genuine at first glance, but after spending so long in the politics of Alenoa and her own family, she felt like she could recognize a facade when she saw one. Guilty until proven innocent. She had nothing against him of course - she just refused to let simple words be a judge of ones immediate character. Regardless what she thought of him, however, it was clear that his words did ring true. A town built on skill and hard work.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Taking the scroll handed to her, she looked over the map. Useful. She poured over it quickly, getting the general feel of the location of the important buildings. Town hall, Maeda's school, Drunken Dragon in. Mayor's house. Rolling up the scroll, she tucked it into one of her belt pouches for later use as they handed out the voucher for the Inn. Three nights paid for in advance, then? How generous. She'd need to find a place to gain a source of income by then. The school seemed to be more and more of a good idea. Tucking the map in the same pouch, she focused her attention back on Dormic. Harvest Festival? Well, celebrations were common she supposed. Especially in places such as this. Had to keep the populace's morale up, after all. She wasn't particularly interested herself, though.

...perhaps if Nynette or her sister was here...

Livia sighed, shaking her head. No use in getting homesick.

With Dormic done, Livia made her way out of the town hall, walking down the streets at a casual pace, taking note of the general mood and happenings of the town. The other additional suggested jobs didn't seem particularly appealing. Mines? Spirits no. She'd hurt herself. She could perhaps make for a good clerk, but there was no way in all the realms she'd ever work in a religious institution of any sort. Her and religion would never get along well. What did catch her ear, however, was the problem with the mines. Closed after finding a hidden chamber? Filled with old artifacts, skeletons and potentially other arcane secrets? That was something right in her field of expertise. She'd be remiss to waste this opportunity. She'd need to bring it up with the Mayor.

Finding her destination was easy enough. The Mayors house wasn't far from Townhall, and being one of the more extravagant and well decorated houses made it obvious. She walked up to the house knocked a few times, and waited for a few moments. If he wasn't here, then she might as well come back later.

Ethan just nodded tiredly at the words of their guide as he welcomed them into Frontier town and gave a quick orientation. He had only the energy left to understand key information only like: locations, names, and job offers. He was rightfully tired, spending most of his days trekking along rocky and dusty roads and his nights in decrepit and long abandoned caves if he were lucky enough to stumble upon one. He gathers the inn vouchers and map provided to any and all travelers. Something along the lines of welcoming 'gifts' given.

He begins to walk to the local tavern, The Drunken Dragon. More usually than not, this was where the locals would put up job offerings and bounties to be done by adventurers or the odd local. Best place to find a job when you are almost hitting rock bottom, if you asked Ethan. He enters the establishment and is instantly hit with the smell of warm food and cold drinks, causing his stomach to rumble unintentionally. He had to live off the land for the past week or so. It was dreadfully easy to tell that his body was fed up of eating berries. He shuts his eyes and winces slightly as he had to secure a job first before he gets spend happy with what little was left of his life savings.

The smuggler who brought him out of the borders of the Evergreen Empire was easily the most costly, costing over three gold pieces. Even if he felt that the man was a con artist that swindled him out of nearly a third of his savings, results were results. He was here in Frontier Town and was not waiting in a cramped cell in the capital, waiting for the day he was going to be hung by the neck until death. He walks over to who he assumed to be the bartender, trying his best to ignore the eyes on him. It was true that he was taller than most folk in this country by nearly half a span, making it easy for them to deduce that he was not from these parts. The indistinct murmuring from a number of the patrons did not help ease his fears of being identified.

"Uhh...excuse me sire. Would you happen to know if a lone traveler such as myself, could earn some cake and tea in this fine establishment?" Ethan tried his best to hide it, but his eyes widened slightly in shock as he unconsciously used a slang common in the Evergreen Empire to imply a decent wage. Acting natural, he leans on the bar and offers the man an awkward smile in hopes he would be focused on his awkward position rather than his slip of the tongue.

Bookie was reworking a schedule for the miners. He was trying his best to ensure that these men weren't out of work completely; the garrison wants to seal off the entire mine until the crypt is discovered while he's hoping he can simply section off the area where the opening was. Sure, these men could go find work elsewhere in the short term, but iron was the lifeblood of this town. There simply wasn't enough of a marketable profit in fishing or forestry for them to try and turn that into a new business. Not to mention what happens in those mines were very much Bookie's business, and if there was profit to be made from it-

That's when a familiar face stepped up to the Firbolg. "Ah, Antaeus." Bookie knew all his workers fairly well, well enough to know their names at least, and he certainly knew of Antaeus. Far be it from him to get involved in a family's personal problems, but Bookie has dealt with Antaeus' father enough to get an idea of what his situation was like. There's even been questions about if any of the other miners might be Antaeus, which Bookie couldn't really determine. As far as he knows, Antaeus is the only Genisai in the Frontier Town, and they've not had any visitors like him since the village started. Either way the best Bookie could do was just make sure the two did have their time apart; it's too dangerous in the mines to let high tempers bring everything down. What was stranger to Bookie however was how Antaeus was acting. Antaeus was never a shy boy.

What he asked nearly made Bookie chuckle, but he remained stoic. He took off his glasses and mulled on it, speaking his thought outloud. "You wish to become an adventurer huh? Well, suppose now would be a as good as a time as any. Mysterious crypt opening up in our mines would need a few adventurers to explore.... And you're not runt. You're right up there with Nartur as one of our strongest rock breakers." Bookie closed his eyes and nodded. "Well, I can't promise it'll be enough for them to accept you, but I know a thing or two that might help. First I'll write to Ork about letting you get some basic training in with his garrison. But they don't just accept every young man in town. While I'm sure they know and can see that you're a strong fellow, they need someone who isn't afraid to kill either. Now, I'm not saying you got to kill a man or anything, but they do want someone who can at least kill an animal. Go into the forest and hunt for a deer or maybe even a boar, and bring it back to the garrison. That'll show them that you're bloodied enough." Bookie took one of the smaller pocketbooks he had on his person, writing a note down on it before passing it off to Antaeus.

His first quest book.

@Zeroth

---

Shortly after Livia knocked on the door, she would hear the light taps of footsteps approaching. Soon the door opened revealing a peculiar little girl; she was definitely a young child, but she had cat-like ears and two cat-like tails. Her clothing was also notably different; while most of the villagers were wearing tough but plain garments meant for heavy work, this girl was wearing more fashionable clothing one would expect from a more major city. Livia may even recognize the style and even designer (History Check). Either way it was clear enough; this little girl wasn't a regular villager. "Hello. Are you here to see gran- I mean the Mayor?" Before Livia could even answer, a deep voice called from further within. "Go ahead and bring our guest in dear, I just finished up here."

At the man's command the little girl would invite Livia inside. She would also escort the girl to a large meeting room. It wasn't too fancy compared to some of the places Livia has been, but it had a rustic charm. The room was illuminated by the sunlight coming from outside, with a fireplace nearby that was only burning embers at the moment. There was a nicely carved wooden coffee table between two large couches, both with woolen cushions and pillows. While it was now silk case filled with plucked goose feathers, it was better than sitting on a wooden bench. There was also a large carpet made out of a rather huge bear, authentic and skillfully preserved. The walls of this room was decorated with various paintings, some which Livia may recognize; they were some of the locations she walked pass while getting to this village. Above the fireplace itself was a coat of arms of sort; it consisted of a rather ornate pickaxe crossed with a masterwork bow with three arrows bundled together made of a black stone.

There were two other people here. One was an old man with was playing with at least four kittens, and there were more just climbing around. He also had some dandelions tucked behind his ears which one of the cats kept pawing at. Standing up as if she was just leaving was a tall, head haired orcish woman. Her outfit, demeanor, and face said orcish, but she was quite an odd specimen for an orc; she had pale white skin and bright red hair. Where it not for her boar like snout and her notable tusk, she could pass off as a burly male elf. "Didn't know you were expecting guess, Mr. Mayor." The orcish woman said with a hint of curiosity. She crossed her arm and looked at Livia, as if expecting her to come back with a snide remark.

"I'm always expecting guest, Nartur. It would be my duty to see to anyone who has questions for me and the town after all. Now then, unless you'd like to join us for tea, is there anything else you'd like to ask?" The orcish woman simply snorted and shook her head. "Unfortunately no. But when you're ready to get your head out of the sand, my men and I will be back at the barracks." With that the woman, Nartur, left. The young girl had also gone to make tea leaving Livia with the man with many cats. He motioned for her to take a seat on the couch in front of him. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Nartur is a good woman, if shortsighted. Now then, what can I do for you miss Livia Foire?" The mayor smiled, taking out a letter from his coat. "I have been expecting you of course. I apologize for not having a fancier room prepared for you. It's been quite an eventful day. Ah, but where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. I am Mayor Nikolas." The girl from before returned with a tray of tea, cups, and cookies. She put the tray down on the table and sat next to Nikolas, picking a cat off of him to hug as she looked at Livia. "And this girl is my granddaughter, Monita. Now then, what can I do for you today?"

@Rune_Alchemist

---

Meanwhile the Drunken Dragon was quite busy today. While it wasn't unusual to have so many people during the lunch rush, today was especially busy as most if not all the miners were out of the mine due to the discovery of the crypt in the mine. Thus the tavern was full of sweaty, tired men looking for a good meal. There were so many that most had to go eat outside, though fortunately there were still plenty of tables and chairs for them too. When Ethan came around he did garner a lot of stares, but not just because he was a newcomer.

"Damn that boy looks skinny."

"Poor lad, must be a beggar."

"That kid could use some meat on those bones."

"Could I get some more garlic?"

"That's the weirdest looking twig I've ever seen."

Most went back to their own business shortly after but a few watched just because they had nothing better to do. The contrast between Ethan's height was most notably when he went up to Sips; the halfling barkeep. The man, despite being over sixty years old, was barely over three feet tall. Despite his small statue it was obvious that he was in charge here; he dressed much better than everyone else in the tavern, and his hands were either exchanging money or food. His tavern workers consisted of three village women, serving food, pouring drinks, or cleaning tables. Miners who got a bit too frisky for their own good ended up getting ejected out by a half-elf man who either clocked them over the head, or used a flick of his finger to cause them to walk out of the tavern under their own will.

When Ethan went over to Sips and asked his question the halfling gave him a look. But as quickly as the smirk came, the halfling gave a hearty laugh. "Ah ha ha ha! You wanna earn your cake and eat it too eh? I see I see, so you want in on a cut of my jib do ya? Well, You've come to the right man ya did!" The halfling went to the back after dealing with some customers, then came back to to Ethan with a map and a hat. "Aight, so see here, these are the places ya need to be to get the things we need capisce? This cap is your badge of office, you show up you know what you're doing, they know what they're doing, you'll get your things and you'll go. Come back here by the end of the day, do that six more times, and you get the cutter for your butter. Do a good job and it'll be all horrowshow know what I'm saying dobby?" Sips spoke quickly as he turned to to the half-elf who was standing by the bar now, who just nodded his head. "Aye. In other words you got the job. You start now. Work hard, don't be late, and by the end of the week you'll get your pay."

@Searat

@Lucius Cypher
Ethan lets out a relieved sigh as the halfling barkeep knew what the slang meant but left it at that. Ethan feels that he really could begin anew here in Frontier Town. He smiles to Sips, offers him a quick bow of gratitude before speaking again. "Thank you very much, kind sire. You will not regret this!" Then heads out of the inn with hat and map in one hand and his trusty walking stick on the other. If he were to judge the map correctly, the trek to the first village would only take a couple hours at most. With a quick nod of understanding he keeps the map in his pouch, affixes his badge of office atop his head and walks past the main gate leading out of the town proper.

@Lucius Cypher

---

---

It didn't take long for Livia to get an answer. As soon as she knocked on the door, light footsteps began approaching. Soon the door opened and someone she did not quite expect opened the door. She had to refrain from reaching out and petting the girl on the head.

A small girl with feline features opened it. Ears, and two tails. Livia's eyes widened momentarily. A Tabaxi? Couldn't be, they were far more feline and this girl was more human than feline. Not to mention she had two tails. Something quite rare to begin with. If she had to guess she was some sort of hybrid made between a human and Tabaxi, but she had certainly never heard of something like that before. What was more intriguing though, was her attire. It was foreign, originating from a land called Kogami. If that wasn't odd enough, It was extremely expensive. At least on the upper end of 50GP just for a child.

She made a mental note of these facts. Perhaps might prove enlightening later.

Before she could even respond to the girls question though, the voice of what she could only assume to be the mayor echoed from within. Seemed she had good timing then. Livia followed the girl in, glad to be out of the weather for now as she loosened the cloak to rest around her shoulders. This place certainly was nice, for a place so far out in the country. The paintings were quite well done indeed - she even recognized a few places as locations she passed while traveling here. Perhaps the Mayor has a reserve of money from somewhere, if the slip the girl made was any indication. It'd be difficult to acquire such clothes as hers. Overall, it was quite the cozy little home. Nothing she was quite used too, but it certainly helped remind her of home a little.

As she entered, two other people were there. An old man and...an orc? One who expected hostility or rudeness in return, it seemed. Well - such things Livia considered herself above. Race meant nothing to her, only the merit of ones abilities. She said nothing immediately in reply, she simply gave Nartur a cool glance and focused instead on the room -

"Oh my goodness those kittens are adorable." Her face changed from her usual expression as a smile covered her lips, walking quickly over to a couch where a kitten was rolling around, and had somehow managed to get stuck between the cushions. She let the Orc and the Mayor finish their discussion as she attempted to get the kitten to play with her. Something about the Mayor being a coward? Was trouble brewing somewhere? Curious. She heard about the mines and the thievery, but was there something else they were trying to keep under wraps? When Nartur finally left, Livia was sitting on the couch calmly.

"Aha, don't apologize." She replied calmly, a small smile forming on her lips. "I should be the one apologizing for coming in somewhat unannounced." She eyed the letter he had curiously. Of course her mother sent a letter.

Hag.

"It is a pleasure to meet the both of you, Mayor Nikolas, Monita. Don't worry about the quarters either. I realize I am far from Alenoa where my name holds not as much weight. I shall make do at the Inn for now like everyone else." She poured herself some of the tea that Monita bought, taking a small sip. It wasn't her first choice of lodging, but what had to be done had to be done. The tea was surprisingly good. Not as good as Nynettes, but she could hardly complain. Better than being served cheap wine or beer. Onto more important matters though.

"As for why I am here...well, I originally simply came to inform you of my arrival. It'd be rude to arrive and not at least introduce myself." She continued, setting her teacup back on the tray. "As well as I wanted to ask about the general well being of the town. Perhaps ask if there was anything around town that needed someone with knowledge of the Arcane or scholarly interests that need doing." She needed to secure a source of income first, after all. "From the rumors outside though, I can safely assess most of the situations." She mused, taking one of the cookies. "But perhaps if its not too intrusive - what were you and Miss Nartur discussing?" She took a bite out of the cookie as she expectantly waited for his reply.

---

---

As Bookie praised him, Antaeus perked up. He had been afraid that the overseer would be mad, especially if the Genasi-boy really was one of the mine's greatest assets. But Bookie almost sounded like he had expected this--they did say every boy dreamed of being a hero at some point, after all. With his encouragement and agreement to write a letter, Antaeus felt much better about his chances--until the Firbolg mentioned killing. When he clarified it as a hunt, Antaeus nodded and felt relieved. He had been in a few scraps, just the usual kind of stuff boys got into in their primary school days or a few wrestling matches when things got too rowdy in the barracks. But he had certainly never killed, except for that one time his mother made him wring a chicken's neck because he was going to have to learn how to cook for himself at some point. It had been a lot different than he had imagined it, and of course a little bit disturbing...but he didn't see anything wrong with hunting or killing animals, so this Quest wouldn't be quite so harrowing as he might have thought. As Bookie handed him a quest journal, Antaeus broke into an excited grin and held the book up like some kind of holy artifact.

"Really!? Oh man, thanks so much Mr. Bookie! I mean it!" He pocketed the book, then headed over to the cart he had just dumped out. Sifting through it for a moment, he found a piece of coal small enough to use for a writing implement, and pocketed that too. He would need to keep a journal, a record of his adventures, from now on...maybe some day he could sell it as a book or something. What would his family think of him then--a hero whose tales were read by folk all across the lands? Heading back towards the entrance, he grabbed Bookie's large hand in both of his own and shook it warmly. "And thank you for everything else, sir! It's been a pleasure working for you!" With a skip in his step and a whistle on his lips, the boy headed to the barracks. A few hearty fare-thee-wells with his coworkers followed, but several of them merely laughed him off.

"We'll take bets on how long it takes ya to wash out, boyo!" came the usual jeer. "You may be big but bein' a hero ain't no game of pretend! Don't get yerself maimed before ya come back--we need ya down here in the tunnels!" Still, Antaeus knew they just didn't want him to be disappointed if he failed. And some of them were probably sad to see him go but too gruff to show it. After gathering his things--his shovel and pick held under his armpit, his block and tackle slung over one shoulder and his climbing kit over the other--he headed out into the town proper.

With the Harvest Festival drawing closer, the whole town buzzed with activity. Antaeus wouldn't say he knew everyone in town by name, but he had always been a sociable sort and thus had developed an eye and an ear for who was who around town--especially when it came to those who had a bit of credit to their name. Today he could see a few folks who wore different clothing, and were of different stock than the usual. One of those caravans full of settlers must have come through...which would probably mean he wouldn't be alone in trying to join the garrison. He frowned as he thought about having to endure a lot of competition before being accepted into the ranks. Speaking of ranks, however, he stopped at one point to let a patrol of militia men march past, admiring how in-sync they were and the look of their equipment.

Ah! Equipment, that was what he would need! Just going out into the woods, even with the Red Bear around, would no doubt be dangerous. He had never really held anything that could be considered a weapon except his tools, and he had never been trained in any sort of martial art. A deer would probably run rather than fight unless he forced it into a corner, but he had always heard that boars were mean as archdevils and would gore a man even if they weren't being threatened. So what exactly would he need?

His pickaxe could work as a weapon in a pinch, but it wasn't really suited for that specifically. And to play it safe, perhaps he should...get something he could use from further away? A sling or a bow of some sort? He shook his head as he crossed the street, the militia now gone. He hadn't ever shot anything before, and trying to learn it on the fly--especially if his prey fought back--didn't seem like a good idea. What about...javelins, though? In previous Harvest Festivals, when he participated in the Games, javelin and disk tossing had been some of his best performances. If he used a proper one with a metal tip, maybe he could kill something as large as a deer with that. He would have to get close, though...but even as large as he was, the boy knew some ways to be surprisingly sneaky. Still, it might be a good idea to consider a trap of some kind, something he could snare a prey with to slow it down while he moved in for the kill.

He heard someone banging on timber with a hammer, and looked up to see a group of people repairing the door to a house. He grimaced and shook his head with a sigh. It was hard enough for anyone to have anything here on the frontier, even if their town was more prosperous than most. Why did these robbers have to go and ruin other people's livelihoods? To Antaeus, someone who had always worked hard and been raised by a hard-working father--even if he was cold and unsociable--the very idea of someone else stealing what you had worked for because it was easier for them made him boil with anger. Luckily his own neighborhood hadn't been hit yet...but how long would that last? The boy made a mental note to check with his mother and sister the next time he saw them. They might need to make sure the house was locked extra tight, maybe even board up windows. Anything that might slow down a robber even a little bit would give them a chance to either escape, or call for help. And if he became an adventurer, maybe he could even catch the thieves.

The cobbled roads soon led him to Barthen's Bartered Goods, the only store he knew of that would probably have everything he needed. He walked in confidently, still holding onto his various tools, and looked around until he spotted Mr. Barthen.

"Excuse me, sir!" he called out as he approached. "It's me, Antaeus." They had done business together before, and in a relatively small town like this the storekeepers often knew most of their customers by name. But he wasn't as familiar with the other man as he would be Bookie or the Boss (which was what he called Mrs. Nartur), so once again a slight bit of hesitation crept into his voice.

"Ah, if I could make a request, sir?" he started. "I've just gotten Mr. Bookie, down at the mines, to write me an introductory letter to Captain Ork." It was fairly well known that Bookie and Barthen were good buddies--and from some of the stuff people said, Antaeus often got the impression that they must have been some kind of young hellraisers or something back in their day. Some folks said you couldn't trust Barthen as far as you could throw him, but the Genasi-boy had only ever wondered why you would want to throw somebody for no good reason in the first place. "I want to become an adventurer, and I think I have a pretty good shot at it." He tried to stand a little straighter, hands on his hips, feet spread about shoulder width apart. He flexed, his bronze skin bulging with muscle. "And I'm sure most of my work would involve helping out the town--I want to be a hero, and slay giant monsters, and defeat evil!" Here he couldn't help but let his excitement bleed through despite his nervousness, and he lifted one clenched fist in a sign of determination. "So, if you're willing, Mr. Barthen, I uh...I guess what I'm trying to say is I'd like to ask you to make an investment of sorts in me. Would you be willing to give me a few silvers off some of the equipment I'm going to need, just this once? If it ends up not working out for me I could even bring it back, if you'd like. But when I'm the real deal, I know I'll need weapons and armor, and I know you've got the best stuff in town, so I'd end up spending more money here later, you know?" He held up his coin pouch. "I've been saving up from working in the mines, but even now it's not much. But it's not just my money we're talking about either, you know? Just look at that caravan that came in today--if I were an adventurer that protected the town, or a hero that drew the crowds, I bet even more of them would come!"

He tried to give his most winsome smile, and held out his hand for the storekeep to shake.

"So what do ya say, sir!?"

He didn't have much experience with haggling, but at the least he knew lying and trying to deceive someone was likely to just make them angrier at you. So nothing he had said was a lie, and it was clear to see his enthusiasm now that he had gotten his momentum rolling. Still, though, he had no idea what was going on in the merchant's head, and he knew that his own thoughts had always been somewhat simple. Would simplicity, honesty, and good old fashioned straight forward-ness win the day here?

---

Kael let out a groan. Sure this was the first time he'd left his village, but he never expected it to TAKE SO BLOODY LONG!!!! Seemingly endless weeks of travel had left his body weary, and his purse light... Nearly all the gold he had received from selling his equipment had been squandered, stolen, or cheated out of his hands.

Mother was right, he should've taken a ship.

Though it had been quite the tribulation, Kael couldn't help but admit it had given him valuable experience in discerning people's nature; something that would prove invaluable out in the lawless frontier. Trudging onward upon his aching feet, he finally met respite; the mighty wooden palisade of the Frontier Town finally stood before him.

Following a man who had introduced himself as Dormic, Kael found himself at the town hall. He wasn't the only one here, many other travelers and newcomers gathered at the hall as well to relay their information to the scribes.

"Kael'thas Minathil," he told the scribe, "As of now, I don't have much in terms of skills, however I am well versed in knowledge of the arcane, as well as religion... I came here in hopes to continue my father's legacy, and become a grand warrior of the light just as he was." As the questionnaires were finished, Dormic made a speech, he seemed pretty genuine, at least moreso than most Kael had met on his journey. Not interested in the job opportunities mentioned, the young half-elf accepted the voucher and map with a smile and nod.

Now that he had some means to navigate around town, Kael made his way to the Temple of Torag, to hopefully secure paladin training, some gear, as well as information about his father. Approaching the temple, the boy was met by a hammer-wielding, red-haired, female dwarf that was covered by a shell of bulky armor, no doubt a guardian for the temple.

"Ah, pardon me guardian, but I seek an audience with the head of the temple..." Kael explained as he presented the insignia of New Dawn to the Dwarf, "I seek knowledge on my father, Bedivere Minathil. Will you allow me passage?" (Persuasion check in OOC)

Barthen's doing the accounting on his recent shipment of goods when Antaeus arrived. Closing his book he smirked while he listened to the young miner ramble on. When he finished Barthen chuckled. "Is that how you flirt with girls, lad? It could use some work." Barthen picked up his book and led Antaeus further into the shop, where a wide variety of equipment was on display. Not just weapons and armor, but other adventuring gear for a discerning adventurer as well; hardy backpacks and camping supplies to rough it in the wilderness, alcehmical concoction that can burn your enemies alive or heal your wounds, even a few magic scrolls kept behind a dwarven made lock. While this was nothing compared to an adventuring shop in the big city, it was nice for a Frontier Town.

"Now, while all of this is procured locally, that doesn't mean it's cheap. I pay an honest price with the folks of this town to buy and sell at a fair price. And I'm not in this business to lose money either lad; if I start selling cheap just for anyone asking for it, not only will I end up losing money, I'm essentially devaluing the work and effort that goes into these things." Barthen picked up a shortsword made from the iron dug up from the Black Mines, forged by the smiths at the Temple of Torag. "A lot of time and effort was put into making this sword. Days of backbreaking digging in those mines, followed by days of smelting, forging, and tempering. All of that time and labor was put into the price tag. What does that say about me if I decide to sell it for cheaper just for you? That somehow you're worth more than the same folks who do the same thing as you?"

Putting the sword away Barthen turned his back on Antaeus, looking through a barrel. "That being said... Bookie has a good eye for investment. After all he was the one to convince me to put a shop out here in the Frontier Town, and so far it's been great. The mines get plenty of ore, the smiths make great equipment, and thanks to them I can ship and trade these goods for a great profit for the village. All that on his recommendation. So, I'll give you a chance." Barthen turned back to Antaeus holding a rather vicious looking device; it looked like a giant metal maw, with teeth made of steel. "Since you fancy yourself a hero, how about doing something heroic? I hear that that's a white stag in the forest. Bring me the pelt and I'll help you get some proper equipment befitting a hero. I'll even throw in this hunting trap so you'll have an easier time with the hunt. But until then, you pay the same rate for gear as everyone else. How's that sound?"

@Zeroth

---

Nicolas handed the kittens off to Monita who gathered them in her arms and played with them down on the rug, taking out a small toy from her pocket that got all the little cats to try and lunge and claw for it. This allowed Nicolas to focus on Livia. "Well, the town has been doing quiet well for itself. We did have a bit of a conflict with a tribe of orcs a few months ago. While we have no problems with the idea of neighbors, they were less than cooperative of the idea that we share these forests, and intended to drive us out from the forest so that they could hunt and gather as they pleased. We lost a lot of good men during that time, so a lot of our own villagers are distrustful towards orcs. But aside from that? We've had nothing but good days, or at least not enough bad days to consider them entirely horrible." Nicolas said about the well being of the village. Indeed, most of the village seemed prosperous, though the conflict with the orcs would also explain the notable militia patrol before. It wasn't just a small group of five or six young men; they were well equipped, and there were at least twenty of them.

"As for the need of arcane knowledge, I'm not sure if she needs any specific teachers but miss Maeda could always use some learned individuals to help teach her students, though most are young children who may not even understand the fundamentals of magic. Then again, who really does? If teaching isn't what you're interested in, I do know that Meada tries to pursue some sort of research during her free time, so perhaps you could assist her in that regard." Nicolas sipped his tea while Monita ended up next to Livia, trying to reign in the kittens who suddenly got very interested in the newcomer. "Sorry!" The little girl said frantically while she tried to pull the misbehaving cats away from the noble woman.

Nicolas seemed to take a few moments to gather his thoughts as he spoke about what him and Nartul was talking about. "As I mentioned before, we had problems with a tribe of orcs who intended to wage war on us. While we managed to drive them off, it did sour the relationship most of the villagers had with orcs. Nartur was here with us long before we had battled that tribe, and she's been nothing but a loyal and productive member since she first arrived. But that battle shook everyone's resolve, including her own. She wants to prove to me- no, to everyone in the village, that she and her fellow orcs are loyal members of the Frontier Town, regardless of how others of her kind might have been. And to that end, she wants to go into the mines and investigate a new and unknown crypt that was discovered." Nicolas sighed as she took one of the cookies and nibbled it. He looked over at the coat of arms with a forlorn look.

"She just wants to help of course. Not only to mend relationships between her people and the folks of the town, but also make sure this crypt won't end up being a bigger problem down the line. But the fact we don't know what's down there is precisely why I don't want anyone down there unless they're just guarding it. We have no idea of there's anything down there that might be alive and malicious, or if it's simply filled with poisonous gas that killed a few people from an age long pass. The fact that it's a mystery mean we can't simply send anyone down there and expect results; this sort of thing requires preparation and planning, not blind fearlessness and determination."

@Rune_Alchemist

---

The path that Ethan would have to take diverged from the path he took to get to town. For the most part, it was easy enough; a small dirt road that led around the mountain and pass into an more open field. However it wasn't long before Ethan would run into his first roadblock. Or rather, a crossroad; a divergent path that wasn't specified in the map. One path went left into the forest, while another path moved outside of the forest but appeared to have ended in the tall grass. The map only showed a single path forward and no indication of a forest, field, or fork; simply a pass. He would know that he is going in the right direction since he did follow the road around the bend of the mountain, but now he must decide which way would he go: through the woods or through the tall grass? Or perhaps he would choose his own path, going his own way in this untamed wilderness, or possibly return back to the Frontier Town in defeat.

@Searat

---

As Kael approached the temple, the dwarf looked at him and stood at attention. Though she was shorter than the half-elf by a solid foot, her armor, demeanor, and hammer made her seem more stalwart than a fortress bulwark. She looked at his insignia, seemingly familiar with it. "Hmph. You may enter the Temple of Torag and seek whatever knowledge you hope to find there, however the head priest will not be able to entertain you. He's far too busy in his work to grant audience to anyone at this time. If you would like my advice, seek out one of the clerics inside. If your father has been here, we should have record of him if he did any business or stayed for any period of time. Otherwise I would suggest asking around the garrison or the tavern, perhaps someone from either has seen or heard of him." The Dwarf stepped aside to let Kael pass, watching him carefully. Her hand was on her hammer constantly, ready to lash out if he tried to force his entry or otherwise acted unpleasant.

@Guy0fV4lor

@Lucius Cypher

Ethan grumbles slightly as he reads the map the 'nth time and still has no damned idea which route was the route leading to the town. "Tsk...I can't find no rhyme or reason of this blasted map!" He let out a sigh while lightly pinching the bridge of his nose, he had already traveled on this small dirt road for almost an hour. The trip back to the town and asking for which road he was supposed to take was the most logical way to deal with this dilemma, but then again the dirt road did continue on through the forest and then again maybe the grass was just over grown in the fields...

Swallowing his pride, he turns around and begins his embarrassing walk back to Frontier Town. Better his pride broken, rather than his body. It took another hour and a half for Ethan to arrive back into town. Almost hesitantly, he approaches the door leading to the inn and, most likely, Sips. Seeing the halfling proprietor working he approaches closer to the smaller male, hat pressed against his chest and had a look that said 'I got lost and didn't know what to do' on his face. "Pardon, sire. I apologize for returning empty handed...but the map you gave me must be mistaken." He presents the map to Sips. "Around here on the map..." he points to the road past the bend in the mountain. "...there was actually a diverging path that lead to a dense forest and a plain of tall grass. I-I'm not sure if the map is mistaken or I was the one mistaken, but I have no clue which road should I traverse." He scratches the back of his head sheepishly and let out a light but uneasy chuckle. "I was hoping you could tell me the right path or any other directions..."

The roads have been rough for Jarynth, as was made apparent by his torn clothes. First of all, he was robbed, twice. The first time around, he lost his bow after deciding it would be a good idea to sleep next to it... out in the open. The next had occurred when he was camping with Halflings, who both had large appetites and a love for Elven rations. Without weapons and with little food, Jarynth considered giving up a few times. He even once considered sending his messenger raven to the Winemaker's Guild in order to request a better mode of transportation. Sadly, he was unable to do so at the time, as he had just realized he was eating a pair of raven legs at that particular moment. If anything, it was a miracle that a man like Jarynth had survived the journey to Frontier Town at all. Seeing the other group of new arrivals along with the trio of locals awaiting their arrival, Jarynth found it to be a perfect moment to introduce himself.

"Hello, friends, foes, new and old! Forgive me for being so bold! My name is Jarynth Robincrest! Baron of Berries! Vintage Virtuo-... Hey, wait! I'm not done yet!"

Seeing the others make their way through town in the middle of his introductory speech, Jarynth chased rather them, clutching his heart. It wasn't out of any physical pain, but out of heartbreak that not one of these travelers would listen to his tale of hardship, much less hear his name. The wound had stung especially bad, as he had spent much of his journey rehearsing his grand entrance! No matter, no matter... Jarynth will allow such wounds to heal while they're still shallow. There will be plenty of opportunities for him to introduce himself, later.

As he was brought into the town hall, he was given a questionnaire. Deciding that it is the perfect place to chronicle his tale of hardship, he began to write to his heart's content, writing small enough so that he can fit his entire story onto the sheet handed to him. In the end, the only information left actually relevant to the questions were his name as well as the fact that he is trained in the Elven art of archery. Perhaps to his dismay or to his benefit, he had left out all the important details about him being a vintner, something he may regret in the near future... at least, if the scribe responsible for reading his sheet is actually able to read it.

As the young human known as Dormic began to explain things to the new arrivals, Jarynth's train of thought began to trail off. He began to imagine the great fields that he has seen earlier, now filled with a never-ending garden of grapes, a vineyard of unrivaled beauty and perfection, overlooked by a beautiful marble chateau of Elven design. His mind continued to trail off until he took a small bite out of one of the complementary biscuits they were given. The dryness was just too intense for his taste. Is this what the frontier life is like? he thought, to himself, before finally deciding to listen to Dormic.

Aside from the Harvest Festival, which sounded like a wondrous opportunity to get an idea of the local flora in order to better determine the perfect place for his vineyard, not much else caught his keen, pointed ears. As soon as Dormic finished explaining things to everyone, Jarynth approached the scholarly man, his credentials in tow.

"Hello, hello, esteemed guide! I am Jarynth Robincrest of the Winemaker's Guild, and I must ask if there is anyone in particular I should implore to about purchasing a plot of land in order to build my vineyard at... Oh, right, but I was robbed on my way here! Oh, drat... well, then, is there anywhere an vintner can put his exquisite talents to use, then? And speaking of wine, would you happen to have any? It would go good with the biscuits, those awfully dry things..."

@Lucius Cypher

---

---

Livia listened quietly as Mayor Nikolas explained the situation, not minding the kittens one bit. Overall it seemed like the town was doing well for itself. The people seemed well fed and taken care of, and if the Mayor was to be believed then it was quite a successful little town. The problem with the orc tribe however, was concerning. The loss of good men, as the mayor put it, was not an ideal situation. She supposed she could understand why Nartur was expecting her to be rude or mistrustful. The sizable Militia presence as well. An expected reaction because of previous events.

Livia took a sip of tea. Hm. Perhaps she could find a way to leverage that situation for her own benefit. Orcs were an unruly lot at best, and difficult to corral with just words alone. A thought for later. The mayors information about Maeda was certainly helpful. Either help with research or an assistant teacher...hm, she could easily do both. She spent enough time around magical instruments in her time learning from various mentors. When the cats tried to bother her, Livia simply returned the playfulness with a smile, petting a few on the head.

Nartur's position was quite the conundrum though. Humans could be so ridiculously fickle, excluding and shunning others for the most ridiculous of reasons. Pathetic, really. They should all strive to be better, but such was not something humans were capable of. Or any sentient being really. No matter.

"I see." Livia began, mulling her thoughts over as she held the teacup in front of her. The mayors fears and position was understandable. However, she also felt it was needless and baseless. The supposed crypt was a potential trove of knowledge or lore waiting to be cracked open and discovered. Simply guarding it wouldn't do anyone any good...if a few people so happened to get injured during the process, then that was simply the way it was. "Nartur seems like the honest sort, and I do understand your concerns, Mayor." She continued. "Potentially waking up some old spirit or something would be quite difficult to handle. Especially with so few skilled wizards and the like around." Her tone shifted from conversational to serious, frowning lightly, setting the teacup back on the tray. "However...leaving it alone also poses danger. Prevention is often the best remedy for a problem. If this crypt does have something that is dormant, waiting for a chance to wake, it would be better to discover what it is and the best method for fighting it before it happens, would it not? Best to face a potential threat under prepared than let it catch you by surprise." She fixed the Mayor with a stern gaze. "As such, I will offer my historical and knowledge of the arcane to help in this endeavor. With your permission I will take Nartur and perhaps a few other guards simply for safety, and discern what this old ruin is and whether it poses a threat. You have my word I will not stir up any trouble and I will report to you immediately should I find something potentially dangerous."

A win win for everyone involved. She gets some potential arcane lore, Nartur gets the potential respect of the people back, and the mine gets busy again and can focus on other things.

---

---

Antaeus's excitement soon died, and his cheeks began to flush with shame as Barthen rebuked his proposal. But the storekeeper was right. Antaeus knew first hand how much work it took to find good quality ore, and how much labor it took afterwards to dig that ore, polish it, process it, and transport it. He could only imagine that just as much work went into smithing that ore into tools or weaponry, and that the things not made out of metal must have had their own process that could be just as difficult. He had often seen farmers at work during the harvest season, and wondered if the bales of hay they loaded on their carts and hauled on their backs were just as heavy as the carts full of rock and metal he pushed around. Barthen spoke the truth--if he gave Antaeus a discount, he'd be saying Antaeus's work was worth more than those efforts. And Antaeus hadn't even accomplished anything yet.

"Don't come cryin' to me, boy. These ain't your little school friends, these are men. Working men. Or women, in the Boss's case, but you might as well count her as a man too. You want 'em to stop laughin' at your screwups? You want their respect? Then stop fucking up, put your back in, and earn it!"

He winced at the memory just like he had winced the first time his father said it. But he shook free of his thoughts as Barthen let the Hunting Trap clang onto the counter. The storekeeper would grant him just one boon--he would let him use the trap to try and capture his quarry. Which no longer seemed to be just a plain deer or boar. A White Stag? But...stories of hunters seeking the white stag were the stuff of fireside tales and folk hero stories. Not to say impossible or fictional, but to Antaeus that seemed more along the lines of an actual, real Quest--if he were able to do that, he might even be as home-town famous as the Redchaser!

"That's...that's good enough for me, sir! You're right, about what you said before...I'm sorry I got big for my britches." He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, before picking up the Hunting Trap. Then he began to look around for the rest of the gear he might need. He wanted to be fairly well prepared, if he was going to be traipsing around the wilds, and to keep it simple he tried to focus on the bare necessities...Supplies for survival and convenience would probably need to come first, then the actual weapons to do the job with.

"Ah, by the way, sir...would you happen to know where I might find the Redchaser?" he asked as he searched the shelves and stands. "I've never really hunted before, so I'm sure her advice would be helpful."

He moved carefully among the items, knowing his bulk sometimes caused him to knock things over accidentally. Barthen really did have just about everything one could need here, and Antaeus wondered if he shipped any of this out to other settlements. Maybe he would need a guard or a deliverer for something like that eventually. With that thought Antaeus also recalled what he had been hearing for a few days now--Barthen would pay a gold piece for every pound of medicinal herbs someone could bring him. In addition to making a list of supplies, Antaeus used his small coal stick to write that down in his quest book.

Equipment wouldn't be any good without something to carry it in--he already had both shoulders and one arm busy with his mining gear. So the first item would probably need to be a backpack. He picked one that looked well made and sturdy--not that Barthen would have sold anything of poor quality, but not all of the packs looked like they were designed to be used for outdoor roughing. Next Antaeus decided on a waterskin--he probably wasn't going to camp overnight in the forest, but he knew that water, food, and medicine were the kinds of things a lot of people skipped over when they told the adventuring tales. And he never understood that, because he liked to eat and he didn't like getting sick, so he figured if you didn't make sure you had those things you'd be in for a rough time. He could get food from his house, provided mother hadn't used everything in the larder, but he couldn't always stop and take a drink out in the wilderness. Then he picked up a tinderbox. If he did by some chance end up camping overnight in the forest, he would need to make fire. He might also need to make a torch at some point, and Barthen had those, but the boy decided if he really needed one he could make it from tree branches and brush out in the field. The important thing was to have a method of starting the fire.

His arms were full at this point, so he hoped Barthen wouldn't mind him going ahead and putting his stuff into the backpack for the moment. But he wasn't finished yet. He also grabbed a weighty coil of hempen rope. He had been thinking he could make a trap of some kind with his block and tackle, since it included a cable and hook, but a rope might be needed for other traps. Or to help haul the prey after he caught it. But now, if his math was right, he found himself sitting a little over the halfway point of his limited funds. Did he really want to spend everything he had in his pouch? What if this didn't work out? What if he couldn't make it as an adventurer? His father might tan his hide already for quitting his job at the mines. What would he say if he found out Antaeus had spend all this money and then had nothing to show for it?

Then again, what other option did he have? He wanted to be an adventurer in the first place because...because nothing was changing for him. His father still seemed to hate him, his mother couldn't do anything but coddle him, and if he didn't do something soon his sister would probably take more and more after his father. He had been thinking that it was him, that he needed to do something to get out of this...this rut. And to do that he had to take risks. No more point in overthinking it.

He found two javelins and added them to his bag. Then he found some smaller, lighter, but still deadly looking darts--certainly not the kind one would play at the taverns, but ones that could probably reach a man's heart through his shirt. With what little he had left he picked out a handful of them, then took the whole bundle to Barthen.

---

"Such is the schedule of such an important man, eternally bound to an unending task." Kael said with a defeated sigh, "Regardless, you have my thanks guardian.

With a curteous smile and bow, Kael  pocketed his insignia and entered the temple.  Upon his entrance, he immediately took note of the ornate interior of the temple, priests of Torag were truly gifted.

Approaching the nearest priest that didn't seem totally absorbed in their work, Kael once again produced his insignia of New Dawn.  "Pardon me Ser priest, my name is Kael'thas Minathil. I am looking for my father, Bedivere Minathil, would you know anything of his whereabouts?"

Barthen simply nodded understandably once Antaeus understood his fault and apologized for them. He couldn't blame the kid for trying; he remembered his own humble beginnings and how he had to beg and grovel for every little thing just to get ahead. Wasn't until he was already in the business for about ten years did things finally start to turn around for the better. As Barthen reminiced he perked up at Antaeus' question about the Redchaser, Mryn Atisha. "Lil Red? Can't say I have, at least not today. If she isn't already out in the forest doing a hunt, I imagine that she'd be at the garrison or at home." Barthen chuckled as he went back behind the counter so he could tally up Antaeus' equipment. "Hmm... Not to worry you, but maybe it'd be best if you don't ask her. After all, she's a hunter too. Chances are she's heard about the White Stag and is after it herself. Now, while I'm not saying that you shouldn't work together, I also know she's a prideful gal. Ever since she became the Redchaser she fancies herself the best hunter since Old Deadeye or Hircine himself."

As Antaeus gathered up his supplies, Barthen counted them up to five gold coins exactly. He also filled Antaeus' waterskin with clean water, free of charge. "Darts huh? That bring me back...." Barthen grabbed three of them, holding one between his thumb and index finger while the other two were held between his ring and middle finger. "A good dagger is more versatile, but a handful of darts is good too if you're the type to have a melee weapon in one hand and something to throw in the other. Certainly helpful since you'll be wrangling the White Stag. I should warn you, the White Stag isn't like most deer. Sure it'll run if you ambush it, but if you confront it in the open, don't be surprised if it charges. Those antlers it has ain't just for show after all. But perhaps you could use that to your advantage, eh?" Barthen chuckles as he takes Antaeus' money and hands the young man his gear.

"In any case, good luck and good hunting, Antaeus."

@Zeroth

---

The mayor laced his fingers together and cover his mouth, mulling on Livia's word. While her mother did mention she was "capable of taking care of herself", he didn't like the idea of having a complete newcomer simply come in and risk themselves for the sake of the village. He was still worried about what could be in there, and there was a reason why he didn't simply let Nartur or any of the other miners just go exploring first. He's seen how these things can be, and the last thing he needs is for the villagers to accidentally awaken some sealed demon, or to come out of the mines as zombies. "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you or Nartur to go into those mines. The risk is far too high to send one of our best miners in there, along with the daughter of a predominate family." Nicolas says this, however there was a hint of regret in his voice. Soon he signed and did offer another option.

"To be frank, I'm more worried about Nartur and her men. She means well, but she hopes to regain honor for the orcs through battle and glory. If she were to go down there, chances are she will choose to fight even when it would be better to stay her hand. And I can certainly assure you, even if you went down there she would be too stubborn to listen to you if you advise her against danger. But you.... I can tell you can understand my concern, so I have an idea that may still work. I have already asked Maeda, out town's resident mage, to try and find out what she can into the crypt through some magical means. This way no one would be immediately threaten. But between her duties as a teacher and her own research she has her handful as it is. But since you seem to be a knowledgeable sort, perhaps you can assist her in investigating the Crypt. I don't know the details but I'm sure Maeda does."

The kittens strayed away from Livia to go back to Monita, except one who was playing in a small barrel. It popped up from the barrel right in front of Livia's foot. It mewed cutely at her and tried to climb into her shoe.

@Rune_Alchemist

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When Ethan returned to the tavern, it was less full than it was before, with only about half the amount of patrons. However those who stayed were quite drunk. Sips saw Ethan and raised a brow. "Done already? Righty mighty quick that was, good-" Then Ethan explained that he got lost at a simple fork in the road. Sips' look of disappointment was palpable. He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and walked to the back of his shop. That's when one of the girls working in the tavern, a blond elven lass, approached Ethan, quickly drawing on his map and speaking hastily. "You might want to leave quickly. The first village should be a two hour walk from the town and the fact you're not there already is going to throw the schedule pick ups out of order. Sips has been... Less then pleased at the past couriers who have either ran off with the supplies they were suppose to pick up, or just incompetent at following a schedule and directions."

The girl drew a rough idea of what Ethan's route should be: the first route showed a picture of a forest and a picture of an open plain, and he should go through the forest. Then he should reach the first village. Next the path would take him to what appeared to be a river with a stone bridge and what could be best described as a creek, and he needed to take the stone bridge to the second village. Lastly there was one more path that seemed to take Ethan through either a valley or over some hills or mountains, and he needed to go into the valley to reach the third village. Finally after that it seemed like he was either suppose to take a boat or just a long, winding path back to the Frontier Town. "Normally if you reach the villages on time, you could catch the fishing boat back to the Frontier Town somewhere around sunset, but since you're already a few hours late you might not be back until nighttime. Now hurry before Sips comes back with his roller!"

@Searat

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A priest who was reading some scripture was approached by Kael with his questions. He adjusted his spectacles and examined the insignia. "Order of the New Dawn? I believe I have heard of this order yes, but I do not remember seeing anyone from that order. Allow me to check our records." Closing his book the priest went into an office for a few minutes. Kael was left standing there while the priest went looking. The temple looked and sounded more like a forge with the beating of hammers against steel echoing throughout the grand hall. Even the altar where the priest would hold his service appeared to be a large, archaic anvil for forging swords and armor. Soon the priest returned with a pile of books. "Unfortunately, we have no records of anyone by that name or from the order of New Dawn who arrived here. However, we do have records of various knights and adventurers who in the past who has asked for our service. Here are all of them on public record." There was at least eight different books and journals, each about three inches thick and smelling of ink and charcoal. The temple kept extensive records indeed.

"Now, I do not know your father, but perhaps he did come to our temple but never introduced himself by name or used an alias. Either way, our records would have a written description of each of our clients, what they ordered, and anything else of particular note. With any luck perhaps you may recognize your father among the recipients. Unfortunately we cannot allow you to take these tomes outside of our temple, but we have a study where you can read at your leisure."

@Guy0fV4lor

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Dormic stayed to help the other scribes review the documents and clean up when he was approached by Jarynth. He smiled and gave the man his full attention. "A wine maker? Sounds lovely. I'm sure Sips at the Drunken Dragon could use someone like you. As for buying a plot of land, for the most part you're free to try and make a home anywhere outside of the Frontier Town. Though we can't guarantee your safety or well-being outside of these walls, these lands are ripe for anyone with ambitions and opportunity. However if you do wish to buy land within the Frontier Town, or request the service of the town's workers or militia, speak to the mayor. He hands all contracts related to businesses and lands around the Frontier. As for wine itself... Well, we have some water and apple juice." Dormic offered Jarynth a wooden cup filled with sweet apple juice. Very sweet.

"Oh, and if you're from a guild, perhaps Barthen's could be of help to you as well. He wishes to establish a trade guild here and I'm sure he would be more than willing to include fine wine to his goods." Dormic says with a courteous smile.

@Black Keys

@Lucius Cypher

Ethan's eyes widened in shock at the threat of being smacked silly by a halfling. He quickly grabs a scrap of parchment from his pouch and writes down a message explaining to sips that the elven woman had given him the directions and promises to bring back the ingredients. He turns to face the elven woman offers her a gracious bow. "Many thanks, miss elf! May Goddesses of Fortune and Joy smile upon you." Ethan gathers the updated map, affixes the hat on his head, and places the scrap of parchment in a noticeable location where Sips would easily see it before leaving the tavern and town jogging at a brisk pace. He would have chosen to walk but the fear of loosing his first job, caused him to think otherwise.

He was rather winded once he approached the forked road from earlier. He rests for a couple minutes to catch his breath, before going through the forest path. If the map was correct, he would reach the first town in under half an hour if he kept his jogging at the brisk pace he was going. He hopes that he could manage to do all three pick ups fast enough that Sips wont be too upset to fire him.

@Lucius Cypher

---

---

Well, that hadn't been quite the answer she had been hoping for, but perhaps overall it'd be better. Having an Orc in a crypt would be dangerous any way you try and say it. She'd likely break something and potentially cause something to wake up herself. So the Mayor did have a point. It was dangerous, incredibly so. But that was life - to gain anything one had to risk danger or forever be relegated to a life of mediocrity.

"Aha, I suppose getting an Orc to listen to reason is something beyond me still." Livia laughed softly in reply. Maeda though? That was certainly someone she wanted to speak to about potential employment, so this would be a good use of her time. Killing two birds with one stone and all that. Mulling over the answer briefly with another sip of tea, Livia responded. "Very well then, Mayor Nicolas. With your permission I shall speak with Maeda about the situation in the mines. If there's nothing else you need, then I shall be on my - hm?" Before she could quite finish the sentence, a small mewling noise caught her attention next to her foot, and was pawing at her shoe, trying to get in it?

...

"...ahem," She cleared her throat, setting the teacup down. Leaning over, she picked up the kitten from the barrel, smiling brightly at it. "Mayor, perhaps if its not too forward for me to ask - perhaps I could take this little one with me?"

---

@Lucius Cypher

"Thank you good priest, your help is greatly appreciated. Would you mind directing me to the study?" Kael said with a respectful bow. Nothing could ever be easy could it? Sighing, the young half-elf scooped up the tomes and settled himself in the temple's study. Surprisingly, the subtle sounds of forge work were almost... relaxing? In a way.

Thankfully, since the temple kept such detailed records, each of the logs included a date; thus narrowing down the amount of reading Kael had ahead of him to at least some degree. Upon closer examination, each book covered about six months of a year, meaning only two of these books could have information on his father. Setting the unneeded books to the side, Kael began flipping through the first of the two books until he reached the date of about a week after his birthday. Continuing to read, the youth continued to find more ways of saving time, any log that said female, or a race that couldn't be confused as human was skipped, thus saving him a great deal of time. Hopefully he would find what he was looking for quickly, as there was still much to do before nightfall...

---

---

"Ah...well, I was hoping she might be willing to help me track it, since I don't really have any skill in that area." Antaeus said, organizing his pack so that the javelins and darts would be in easy reach on one side of it, and his pickaxe went through a loop on the other side. Everything else went into the pack, although his shovel still stuck out one side of the top flap. "But...this is my Quest, and I suppose I ought to do it myself anyway."

Barthen warned him that the White Stag wasn't like other deer. This wasn't surprising--for it to be as famous as it was, a white stag had probably lived through many a hunt. It might even be magical. And it would no doubt be large and strong with well developed horns, having lived for many years. Antaeus decided his best option would be to trap the creature, and try to kill it from a distance with his javelins, only closing in if there were no other option and he were confident in his ability to strike it down quickly. If he couldn't end it fast, it wasn't just a question of making the creature suffer cruelly--there was also more opportunity for it to gore him or stomp his head in with its hooves.

"Thanks, sir! Hopefully I'll be back to let you know what happened...but um, on the chance I'm not? In...I guess a day or two? Probably inform the militia. And if I'm dead, tell my folks...you know, the usual stuff. They know I love them. And tell my dad that I'm...sorry, I guess."

Maybe it didn't really need to be said. Maybe he was blowing this out of proportion. But...the life of an adventurer was going to be full of risks, even from the start. Antaeus's father had told him, more than once, that he wouldn't amount to much. So in all honesty, he didn't have high expectations of himself. But damnation, he planned to try.

So Antaeus left the shop, looking up at the noon day sun and gauging how much time he might have left in the day. He set off at a light jog through the town streets, heading for the creek just outside the edge of town. He reasoned that all animals, just like people, needed water. So if he moved along the creek bank, deeper into the forest, maybe he could find tracks more easily. The ground would be softer mud, so they would stand out more, and maybe he would be able to follow them a further distance if they also left fresh mud in their wake. Of course, it wouldn't matter if he found tracks if he couldn't keep up with the animal. And they would certainly run if they knew he was coming.

He left the town by way of the narrow, packed dirt road that led to the next village over, but he didn't go far enough to hit the fork into the forest. Once he found the creek, passing over a small wooden footbridge, he peered off into the direction where the creek began to weave through the trees. He took a deep breath--the smells of the wild weren't actually that different from town, given that all of the frontier was just as new, just as untamed. But out here it was the lack of smells and sounds that gave the wilderness such distinction. No smoke from cooking fires or smelteries. No fresh baked bread and pies wafting on windowsills. No ringing of church bells, no rabble of voices, no clattering of horse hooves and carriage wheels on brick and mortar.

Only the trees, old and tall, and the running water swift and clear. Blue skies above, soft winds whispering to white clouds, bright sun beaming down. And the sun warmed the earth beneath his feet, the earth that felt deeper to him than to most others.

Antaeus was not sure, exactly, what Genasi were. All he had ever learned from school and Mrs. Maeda and others he had asked was that they had the blood of genies or elementals running through them, sometimes because of their parentage and sometimes not. But he knew from descriptions and the face he saw in the mirror every morning that he was an Earth Genasi, and thus that element was his own. He was no spell caster, but he just instinctively connected with stone and soil. He never got lost in the mines after his first time down there. He could always remember exactly where he had taken a turn, or how many feet down a tunnel he had gone. And, if he wanted...he felt as if he could become stone itself.

He began to slowly, carefully creep down the creek and into the forest. He knew no animals would come this close to a road where so many humans walked on a regular basis, and also didn't want to walk literally right next to the creek. The open space between the forest floor and the creek bank would make him visible for a long distance, especially if any creature had actually stopped at the bank to drink. But once he got a little ways in--far enough that the road had disappeared from sight--he stopped for a moment and closed his eyes.

The stone beneath his feet was strong. It would not give way. The dust upon his boots was just another layer of his skin, it would not fall. He was the earth. The earth would hide him, protect him. He felt power rise up from deep, deep below, and flood through him for just a moment. Then, with barely a breath, he opened his eyes.

As he continued through the forest, he left no footprint and his steps made no sound. Even his breathing seemed muted, and from a distance unless one looked closely, even while moving he simply seemed to be a large stone sitting atop the ground.

As he moved slowly, since disturbing any trees or plants would reveal his presence even if the solid rock and dirt under his feet did not, he kept his eyes moving this way and that. He especially focused on the creek banks and the immediate area around the water, searching for tracks. He figured that the White Stag's tracks probably would be hard to tell from other deer, but at the least they would likely be larger and broader. Maybe he could find a tuft of white hair or something that had caught on a briar bush.