Cinder had arrived in Forsaken a day before the intended meeting date. She had a lowlife bandit in tow that had tried to mug her while her and Ulleiss had camped, and unfortunately for him he had bitten off a bit more than he could chew going after an experienced bounty hunter. It had taken her maybe five minutes to tie him up and get him on her dragon companion's back. Unfortunately, this meant that she had to rush the rest of her journey to Forsaken since she'd have to arrive a day early to take care of all the wonderful paperwork that came with turning in these bastards. His bounty was meager as well. She received a whole fifty gold for her effort and got some half-assed deputy that didn't want to be there to write up the paperwork for her. It took literally all day before she was finally able to leave the jail and go find a place to sleep for the night.

The next day Cinder took her sweet time in meandering over to the Garrick Estate, taking about an hour to eat her breakfast and take the time to catch up on the local newspaper and see what as going on in the city, and so far it seemed to just be the same old boring nonsense. Bar fights, lots of crime, the Forsaken mine being in a bit of a financial crisis, the works. It was exactly as she'd left it.

The Garrick Estate itself was by no means difficult to find. It was an enormous ranch just on the outskirts of the city, and it's appearance stood in stark contrast to the dirty, dusty town it neighbored. White stone walls lined the property, stretching for a mile or two before turning inwards and starting to curve, forming a large circle that encompassed thousands upon thousands of acres. From her view in the sky Cinder could see the vague outlines of creatures on the ground. Some were larger than Ulleiss, others small enough to carry in her arms, but all of them were presumably some sort of magical creature. Cinder was just glad she wasn't one of the ranch hands that had to keep an eye on the monstrosities... Though she supposed she'd be close enough to being one before much longer. Thankfully the aid of flight helped her to reach the main manor of the estate with time to spare. The outside was lined with alabaster and fine woods, and was just as pretentious as the big golden gates at the front of the property, and it was clear from the decor that this man was what one might call obscenely wealthy. Cinder wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted.

"Excuse me, miss, may I help you?" A finely dressed half-elf butler approached, looking her up and down briefly with that slightly condescending expression that all butlers seemed to have. Granted she'd only ever met two, but it was odd that both of them had the same expression, right? He had long, reddish brown hair that went just past his chin, gray eyes, and a seemingly omnipresent sneer engraved into his expression. Lovely.

"Hi, yes. I received a letter from Mr. Garrick, an invitation to discuss a business proposition."

"Ah. The new hippogriff wranglers," he replied, nodding slightly. "You may come in. Will your um... dragon behave itself?"

A low growl came from the creature at her side and absently Cinder placed a hand on his shoulder, irritation sparking flames in her eyes as she spoke again.

"He will be just fine, thanks. Though you might be a bit worse for wear if you keep patronizing him like he's a mindless beast. Just leave him alone and he'll be fine."

"... Right. Follow me, then."

The butler muttered something about "dragon riding fanatics" under his breath as they walked, but Cinder decided to let that one go. She was led into the main hall of the house which was just as glamorous and obnoxious as the rest of the estate, up rather large staircase, and into a study that was as large as the tavern she'd slept in last night. It all just seemed so... unnecessary, but then again she supposed it wasn't her house nor her money to spend, so best just ignore all of the ridiculousness and keep her mind on the task at hand. Cinder let out a small sigh and sat down in one of the chairs in the room. It seemed that no one else had arrived yet, so she'd just have to sit there in silence and wait for more people to show up.

Today was the day. Rokkit had received the letter from Garrick about a job. Says that Rokkit was "a person of some repute", which made the orc suspicious. Sure he's done some good work in town but nothing no other smith couldn't have accomplished. Either Garrick was talking hot air or he was referring to something else about Rokkit that he hasn't told anyone else. And Garrick's a rich man: he would surely have the resources to know what he wants, as any information could come at the right price. Not to mention the job almost sounded too good to be true. Taking a herd of horses from Forsaken to Sasarka wasn't that difficult, even if they were magical ones. Sure, the job would be dangerous, but it's not as if that in itself is unusual. The phoenix was more of a concern, not just because that's their primary job, but because a phoenix is worth more than a hundred hippogriffs. Was this creature alive? Was it in an egg? Was it a bunch of ash in an urn?

So many questions, Rokkit was still having second thoughts about the job. But he also knew he needed it. Frankly, business has been bad. Running a shop by himself wasn't easy especially when he rarely gets any work. Turns out most people don't care for orc made guns, and even the few firearms he made that are of dwarven or elven design don't sell as well as ones made and sold by actual dwarves and elves. It certainly doesn't help that Rokkit's shiny personality makes most customers shy away from him, and even the few braver ones don't care for his gruff attitude and failure to acquiesce to a customer's request. He really should've known better: Rokkit already tried his hand as a merchant before and more or less ended up just like this. He just thought the folks in Forsaken would be more accepting of his attitude.

Thus, Rokkit was hard up on money. He's had to stop supply shipments in order to save up on living expanses, not to mention he hasn't cleared out his current inventory yet. It doesn't help that he has personal projects which haven't amounted to much of anything. His research into miniaturized steam engines have so far gone no where, nor has he stumbled upon any revolutionary armor ideas. The only reason he has business is because of ammo sales, because everyone needed bullets and Rokkit was selling them cheap. But that also meant he was barely into the black: his business simply wasn't making profit. Anger and frustration swelled in Rokkit's head, and he vented his anger by picking up a stone and throwing it into the distance where it smashed against another, larger rock.

"Shrakh. Uruk han. Grub Pub hap."

Letting out a tired breath Rokkit left his humble abode to head to town. A short walk took Rokkit to his favorite eatery: The Grub Pub. A place that sold cheap food and booze. As long as you didn't care too much what part of the beast you were eating, they always had meat on the menu, and it was one of the few places here that served cold drinks. Went Rokkit walked in the waitress, a large and rotund dwarven woman, looked at him. "Morning Rokkit. The usual?" The orc sat himself down at the counter and gave the waitress a nod. She turned towards the kitchen and shouted loudly to the chef there. "Got one Beef's Breakfast on the hoof buried in rocks, mountain men starched and ripped, and a frosted sin neat. We going to have a cube today too?" Rokkit gives a silent nod and adds it to the order. A few more customers come in and the woman goes to attend to them, but not before handing Rokkit a complimentary newspaper. He hasn't read this week's paper so he gave it a look while his food was cooking.

As more people came t the Grub Pub for their morning meal, Rokkit was deep into the paper. It was good to stay up to date about world news, even if it's all filtered through lies and politics. Rokkit knew better than to believe anything at face value, but it's still important that he knows about it in the first place. Soon his food would arrive: a rare beef patty wrapped in lettuce and well seasoned with black pepper, with a side of mushrooms fries coated in potato starch, and a cold glass of apple juice without ice. A working man's meal. Rokkit picks up his green leafy patty, eating it in two big bites before taking a large gulp of apple juice. Then he idly ate his mushroom fries while he finished reading the paper. Once he finished his meal his dessert was served: glimmering red strawberry flavored gelatin, with a small dollop of whipped cream. Rokkit flipped the bowl over his mouth and ate the sweet in one whole bite.

After paying for his meal Rokkit went back to his home to gather his things. As much as he doesn't trust the job, he couldn't turn down the offer, and so he had already made preparations for the journey ahead. He's renting out his store to another smith, liquidated his assets, and made sure to buy supplies for the journey ahead. Once back at home Rokkit would begin donning his armor. He'll likely have to join the caravan as soon as he arrived, or at least that's how his past experiences has been, so he wanted to go there prepared. He kept his helmet off though, knowing that people like Garrick would want to speak to Rokkit face-to-face. His pack was ready as was his bandolier and weapons. His axe on his hip, shotgun slung across the shoulder, and shield strapped to his arm. He balled his hands into fists and punched the air a few times, each strike crackling with thunderous energy from his gauntlets. As he turned to leave he picked up a small glass cage. Inside was a large black and red spider: Flyswatter. It was thanks to this arachnid monstrosity that Rokkit never had to worry about insects in his home. And as he was leaving Rokkit felt something land on his shoulder: a chunky brown cat, Potato.

"Urukrim majatan. Flas zil'nok."

Locking the door behind him, Rokkit heads to the Garrick estate, occasionally looking over his shoulder. It was hard to miss, and pretty much the only notable thing in Forsaken aside from the town itself. By now the city was already awake and people were leaving to work or working. There was the occasional scuffle and shouting, familiar concepts in this town, but Rokkit didn't care to get involved in that. He was an orc on a mission and he was going to see it through. Upon arriving to the manor, Potato hopped off to wander. Rokkit wasn't too concerned: despite being fat that cat was a better hunter and survivalist than Rokkit was. Ranch hands were already hard at work corralling and tending to the various beasts Garrick keeps on the estate. It just reminded Rokkit about his doubts in this job, why he wonders what the catch is that they'll be paid so handsomely, and what exactly Garrick was expecting that he could afford to drop so much money on someone like Rokkit.

But this doubting was starting to grate on the orc's nerves. He's already gone this far. Even if he wanted to back away now it's not like he had contingency plan and frankly speaking, even if this was more than meet's the eye, it's not as if Rokkit couldn't profit either way. Ever since the mines started running dry on ores it was harder for Rokkit to get raw materials for his projects. But if they happened to stumble upon any threats along the roads, Rokkit could take their equipment and repurposes it for his own ends. He in fact prefers it this way: looting was an ingrained part of orc culture and crafts. Crafting from the ground up might've been fine for the Great Four, but for someone like Rokkit maybe this adventure was what he needed.

With a renewed sense of purpose Rokkit would enter the manor. He showed one of the ranch hands the letter Garrick sent to him, and so Rokkit was escorted to a large hall. It looked like someone was already here. A dark skinned woman with literally fiery red hair. The way she carried herself told Rokkit she was a hired gun, likely someone else Garrick sent a letter to. Rokkit was certain that they'd all be formally introduced to each other soon enough, so the orc elected to keep to himself and found a couch wide enough to fit him. Taking off his backpack he sat onto the couch with such force that one could hear the wood creak, but it managed to hold his weight. And now all he had to do was wait.

"Fortune, fortune, smile and fade, I haven't seen you much of late, I need you now, cannot wait..."

It was the dawn of the meeting day that brought the tiefling mercenary and hunter Defiance strolling towards the town of Forsaken, singing to himself to pass the time and steady the pace of his march, having departed his last camp before the break of dawn to make the meeting on time. The individual carried all his worldly belongings with him, from the pack on his back with his supplies and tools, to the curious blades on his belt and the strange design of his armor, everything he had to his name was somewhere on his person. It was how he preferred to live, and as the town that was his current destination came into the view, the red skinned tiefling grinned as he continued singing to himself, strolling steadily along as he smiled, crossing the edge of the town's boundary, moving at a steady pace tempered by his song. He unfolded the letter again, pausing to read it once more as he continued to sing to himself, not quite as loud now as he was not here to cause trouble. Though given the trio of individuals approaching, well, they seemed to want to have a word with the singing swordsman.

"Now what's a devil like you doin' walking in at the crack of dawn singin' that strange song of yours? Mind explanin' why your here son? Local sheriff and authority, before you ask."

The song paused, and the tiefling looked the three men, sheriff and his deputies no doubt, up and down with a lazy smile on his face. Golden orbs took in their stances, weapons, and general disposition before lifting the letter he was holding and waggling it with a laugh. His tone was rather relaxed, and friendly to boot despite the suspicion and concern the three men were regarding him with as he answered their challenge. He didn't surrender the letter to any of them of course, that would be folly given it was his ticket onto the estate proper, so he stood a respectful distance from them, mainly since they stopped there, and chattered away.

"A job offer from a local estate, and I'm just keeping up the spirits for the march. Any working folk are already up and about, like yourselves I would hope, so I would only be disturbing the lay-a-bouts, the elders, and young ones. Nothing to go fretting your law enforcing manners over I assure you. But, I have a meeting to attend to, so unless I am being detained, my friends?"

After a few hanging moments, the sheriff shook his head and stepped aside to let the tiefling go about his day. With a half salute, Defiance strolled on, continuing to hum the refrain of the song he had been before singing, at least showing a modicum of respect to those not yet rousted by his nonsense. He was considering the letter now properly as he walked, easy going stance and stroll hiding his thoughts rather well. The gold was the obvious lure, and for any other sellsword that would be enough. Gold didn't interest him a whole lot, not beyond paying for his supplies and a place to lay his head out of the rain when he wasn't run out of town. No it was the details of the job, the task at hand, that interested him more than anything else. Spites sake, it wasn't even the hippogriffs that interested him. While they were truly fascinating beasts and many stories he heard from these foreign lands seemed to place them in a variety of roles and manners, it was the other guest of this convoy and drive that held his interest the most, and was the ultimate reason he was here.

A living, breathing Pheonix, captured in the, well, flesh he supposed. How that came about was only one of many questions. He'd poured over books back home and abroad about the flaming, winged marvels, their regenerative properties and everything they were capable of. How so much potential and cunning had gotten captured, from the sounds of the letter, was intriguing. Money could do a lot, it could grease palms, twist arms, scream and shout until it was blue in the face, but it couldn't do everything. He didn't think money alone could capture a pheonix, and the mention of the pheonix reaching its destination being paramount was, well, concerning. It had gotten his interest enough to bring him walking this far abroad this fast, he preferred to meander more as he drifted, but this was too intriguing to pass up. At worst, he made a tidy sum of gold and could afford to get some master's work done on his sword, or what passed for masters in these lands. Still, he could use the edge, literally in this case, and it was expensive getting that kind of smithing assistance.

It wasn't too difficult to track down the estate, Defiance only had to ask a few times to get someone to give him a straight answer, far quicker than normal. Seems folks were either more accommodating, or quicker to answer questions to get him to go away, and either worked for him. Approaching the estate from the front he was promptly challenged by a guard, demanding to know what business he might have with the head of the estate. The tiefling offered the letter to the guard, with a grin and continued light smile as he spoke while the guard reviewed the letter for its authenticity.

"As your no doubt told to be expecting, I've been sent that charming little piece of parchment for a job, and I'm here to answer the summons. Defiance, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm sure your superior and I will be getting along quite well, if the contents of that latter are anything to go by."

The guard would return the letter and a servant walking by would be directed to show the Tiefling to the meeting room. Wonderful, he didn't get to wander the estate unsupervised, that wasn't any fun at all. He was hoping to sneak a peek at this pheonix before the meeting but, alas, no such luck. He was admitted to some study where two people had already beaten him there. Hopefully it was more than three, or else this would be a very bad look indeed. He offered a formal bow to those present already while his gaze drifted from one to the other, sizing each of them up. First, flaming redhead, spry and lean looking, quite the eye catching presence. Well, if it wasn't for the dragon that accompanied her, which got a raised eyebrow, though one might glean from the brief expression it was genuine surprise if nothing else. He'd, of course, heard of and read a great deal about dragons, though one as a companion was not something he was familiar with. Whoever this woman was, she had quite the stories to tell about how she came about being in the company of such a well respected being back in his homeland. Perhaps he'd even get her to talk about it, or direct his questions directly to the dragon. They were highly intelligent beings, of course, and could very easily speak for themselves should they so desire.

Next was the other individual present, a massive orc, with all the typical features. Broad, strong, and tough was his kind, and not one to lightly tangle with, all things he could respect and see why such a being would be requested. He carried the kind of presence some retainers of powerful nobility did back home, the kind of air that would silence a room to let their lord speak, or to carry such words themselves. An air of command, almost but not quite, but what would a mercenary of any flavor need with such a presence, and why would they not find steady and gainful position with a powerful warlord if they had such a presence? More questions than answers to be had from mere analysis, and the strain on the bench was apparent as well, only confirming the orc's weight of muscle and gear. He knew some allies who dismissed orcs as brutes and nothing more and it cost them dearly, and this one would be worth watching intently. The silence was palpable, and that simply just would not do for this Tiefling, who rose from his bow with a trademark grin and flourish.

"Well met my no doubt soon to be comrades. Defiance, mercenary and hunter, a distinct pleasure to make the acquaintance of both of you. I do hope that I'm not the last one and, by extension, fashionably late?"

Defiance grabbed a chair and took a seat, seeming to recline back and rest, setting his pack down beside the chair he was thoroughly misusing, two of the feet resting off the ground. His tone had been genuinely friendly, regarding the two with equal ease, an open offer to start their potential working relationships off on the right foot, as friends or at least friendly coworkers. Not all bought into that nonsense of course, but if they had been backed into a corner, better to be on good terms with those you would be heading into the afterlife with. His smiling grin remained, light as it was, as he either listened to their responses, if at all, or otherwise watched for those others who would be joining them on this venture to make a great amount of coin. And, for those who had other motives or interests, see about fulfilling those. The sooner he got a look at this pheonix, the happier he would be, though he wouldn't let that impact his currently sunny disposition in the slightest. Oh no, that would be no fun at all, and if he were in the mind, he might just start humming again. That would probably irritate though, so he kept his peace for the moment.

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Drops of Rain had tried to convince his Ma that they wouldn’t need the cart as their employer, Mr Garrick, would have some of his own. But she wouldn’t hear any of it.

“It’s a long way to that side of Forsaken. Even by horse and going around it’ll take you most of the day, and I know you boys won’t want to lug all your things for that long.” She had said whilst preparing Delilah that morning. “Besides, Delilah could do with a nice holiday. Isn’t that right my dear?”

And that had been it that morning. Their bags slung into the back of the wagon they had set off at the crack of dawn t join the rest of the traffic towards Forsaken, before turning off on one of the smaller roads which wound their way through the hamlets surrounding the city like stragglers in a crowd.

“So, do you know anything about this guy?” Drops of Rain asked, only turning his head towards his brother whilst keeping his eyes on the horse, Delilah. “I think Da mentioned something about him.”

Even in the afternoon sun the white walls of the Garrick Estate were bright enough to make Rains eyes hurt. The golden gates amidst the surprisingly clean white walls looked almost comically out of place in the dusty outback and plains that surrounded Forsaken.

He brought Delilah to a gentle stop before the gate and the horse snorted in equal displeasure at the wall’s brightness. Delilah was just as plain but functional, and possibly just as old, as the four wheeled, open wagon she pulled. They didn’t have to wait long before Rain saw someone walking somewhat briskly up the path towards them.

The half elf was dressed simply but the closer he got Rain took notice of how fine his clothing was. The black colour of his jacket and trousers where uniform and neat without a crease out of place or spec of dirt on his shoes.

They hadn’t even set foot in the estate and already Rain felt very out of place. He was wearing his finest clothes to make a good first impression, but they were just as worn and simple as everything else he had so try as he might Rain couldn’t push down the horrible knot of unease now nestled between his heart and stomach.

“Yes? May I help you gentleman at all?” The butlers’ grey eyes washed over them with a sneer.

Rain clenched his jaw and sat up straighter in his seat. While he would let Thunder deal with the butler Rain would e shooting his own condescending glare right back at the man. As far as he was concerned the guy was a stuck-up snob.

"What an absolute arsehole." He thought along with several other words.

Rain would let Thunder deal with the butler so he could focus on keeping Delilah in check as they were lead down the path. When the golden gates were swung open Rain clicked his tongue twice to let Delilah know she could walk on.

“Wow.” Rain breathed.

Trees lined the path on both sides were tall, strong and reached towards each other, so their branches met neatly in the middle in a crisscross pattern to shield anyone on the path from the worst of the suns blasting heat, but still let in enough light to cover them in splotches of light. It took the change in tone of Delilah’s hoof-steps for Rain to notice the path had changed from the serviceable compacted dirt and stone to gravel of the lightest shade of pink.

Everything was perfect. Everything was in place; the grass was a delightful shade of green, the workers tending the animals and land were far enough to be seen but not heard, and the flowerpots on either side of the driveway scented the air just enough to be noticed but not to overstay their welcome.

If Rain didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he had died and gone to heaven. It was beautiful. It was disgusting. He clenched his jaw, gripped the reins harder and tried to shove down his embarrassment.

When they arrived at the front door Rain grabbed his own bag from the wagon and a young lad took Delilah and the wagon off elsewhere.
Rain took off his hat as they were led into the foyer and his ears, angle to the back somewhat, betrayed his nerves. He stuck close to Thunder hoping his older brother would take the lead.

The house was much colder than outside and held a distinctly bitter smell of polish. From the dark wood floors, the rugs, the brick-a-brack and more were all placed and aligned perfectly with each other to be just within reach should they be needed but just out of sight to be ignored when not. Even though there wasn’t a spec of dust Rain wondered if anything here had ever been held or even used.

Step. Clunk. Step. Clunk. Step. Clunk.

His prosthetic echoed against the steps and Rain could feel the eyes of the paintings glaring down at him. How dare someone as lowly as he be in their presence? How dare this ruffian dirty their home?

Rain reminded himself that he had been invited by name.

When the butler opened the door to the study Rain was surprised of the weight that lifted when he saw that other people had arrived before them.

"Well, at least we’re not gonna get killed off in a basement." He thought.

But even in here everything was suffocatingly fancy and neat. He hated the horrid knot it made in his stomach gazing at all the booked and nick-nacks dotting the pristine walls.

“Hello.” Rain tried to keep the drawl out of his voice. “You all here for the job?”

Try as he might Rain couldn’t help but stare at the other people in the room; one a dark-skinned human looking woman with hair that looked too much like fire, an Orc in strange but deadly looking armour, and a violently red Tiefling with an odd-looking sword. And all of them armed to the teeth and looking like they’d kill in a heartbeat.

Thunder had been sitting next to his younger brother Rain on the cart for a while as they traveled together towards the estate of Abraham Garrick. The truth was that the alchemist didn’t like it at all that his younger brother was tagging along. Not that he disliked Rain, it was quite the contrary. His younger sibling was actually one of the family members Thunder gets along with the best. It was the job and employer that concerned him the most. Mister Garrick had a reputation. People in town were talking about him and not always in a positive way. Lots of it was probably pure gossip and urban legends but if some it were true, this drive might actually be a dangerous endeavor. The ludicrous amount of money that was offered did not help to ease Thunder’s worries. That fact was that it did the opposite. No one in their right mind would offer 15 thousand gold coins to a farmhand in order to transport some animals to a different city. If it wasn’t for the desperate situation Thunder had put his family into, he would have let this opportunity pass.

The truth was that Thunder had actually tried to convince their father to not let Rain go. But of course that talk quickly went from a heated argument to a big fight. The family was in this mess because of him and letting Rain join would be the quickest, maybe even the only way out. There was no other way around it. They both had to go. All the dangers that Rain would get exposed to, all the hardships and pain his younger brother would suffer on this journey were because of Thunder. And it was just as his father yelled at the Alchemist; “Bringing Rain back home safe and sound is your responsibility!”

As they continued their trip towards the estate all Thunder hoped for was that Rain did not notice the fight he had with dad from last night. Luckily his younger brother never brought the subject up. In fact, he asked what he knew about mister Garrick.

“O boy, Abraham Garrick. Well, the dude’s pretty infamous. Lots of people in the saloons share all kinds of stories. I think it was drunken Joe who once told people that Garrick ate babies for breakfast. I think there even was some guy that claimed that he decorated his house with Tabaxi pelts. So better watch out when we enter the estate. Nah, that one is probably not true. I know one thing for sure and that’s that the guy is filthy ass rich and into all kinds of magical creatures. Wait.. those are actually two things.”

Spoke Thunder while knowing all too well that his younger brother wasn’t the talkative person. He would probably get a little bit annoyed by all the crap that was coming out of Thunder’s mouth but as long as the conversation didn’t go into the direction of his complicated relationship with dad and the unspoken bits about their family’s financial perils Thunder didn’t mind.

As both Tabaxi brothers entered the gate of Garrick’s estate they were approached by some half elf butler. Thunder had a few butlers in his life. All the higher ups in the mining company he used to work for dragged along servants wherever they go and they all tend to be as stuck up as their bosses. As the butler inquired about their business Thunder could not help but notice the man’s condescending look in his eyes. He probably thought that they both were some kind of beggars or something.

“Yes, sir SERVANT” Thunder paused a bit to make sure to make the emphasis on the servant's part even greater before he continued to speak. “How about you go do your job and inform mister Garrick that his guests have arrived.” Spoke Thunder firmly as he pulled out both his brother’s and his own invitation. The Tabaxi knew from experience that butlers and servants had certain behavioral standards to meet and staying out of petty arguments and shouting matches was one of them and he quickly led both men to the front door.

As some young lad took the cart and Delaila to the stables Thunder quickly shouted “Don’t touch my stuff otherwise you turn the estate into a smoking crater.!” Of Course it was an exaggeration but still, most of Thunder’s alchemy supplies were lying in that cart. If someone without any knowledge would mess around with the various chemicals it could produce dangerous results.

Thunder looked at his little brother as he moved through the house. The contrast between the extravagant wealth of Mr Garrick and the son of the impoverished local farmer could not be greater. It was actually a pretty sad scene as it was more than obvious how out of place Rain was feeling. A feeling that Thunder had known all too well when he stepped into the university for the first time. It felt like being alone in an alien world with all creatures just staring down at you. He quickly gave his brother a pat on the back and whispered in his ear;

“Don’t let all this wealth get to your head. Behind it sits just some douchebag who can’t even take a dump without some butler wiping their ass. All they do all day is bark commands and push money around. But without their money, they are nothing. Give them a farm to take care of and they would die of starvation in a week.”

Thunder hoped that his comments made his little brother relax a bit. It was bad enough to be nervous but even worse to show your insecurity in these kinds of situations. Many people love to take advantage of it.

As the butler opened the door he noticed that there were other people in the room already. None of them seemed to fit the descriptions that people gave of Abraham Garrick. Maybe these people received an invitation too?

What surprised the older Tabaxi the most was the diversity of the group. One of them was a tiefling, a sort of humanoid that you don’t come across much in this part of the world. Most people’s experience with tieflings was based on hearsay. Stories that people told about devilspawn doing evil stuff. Thunder had met one during his time at the mining company and learned that tieflings were just people, like everyone else.

The other seemed to look like an elf but yet she was clearly not. Her hair looked like fire and the tone of her skin was way darker than any elf he had ever encountered. It took him a second to remember the teachings about various magical creatures from different planes of existence. One of these stories was about the Efreeti. Creatures from the plane of fire who sometimes travel to the material world to do whatever they please, including knocking up women. Could she be a child of the plane of fire?

And the third one was clearly an orc. Big, hulking and green. Not to mention clad in armor. And yet this orc looked vaguely familiar. As if he had seen him before. Maybe he was an orc living in Forsaken. Who knows. The one thing that was clear was that these three strangers all looked like hired guns. All the more reason for poor Rain to feel even more out of place. Hopefully they weren’t biting off more than they could chew.
“Howdy fellas, it seems to me that Mr Garrick is forming one hell of a party here. I guess you all are here on his invitation as well? The name is Thunder by the way and this here is my little brother Rain. You have a familiar face, Mr Orc, you’re local? Like from Forsaken?” Spoke Thunder as he found himself a seat. “Rain, go sit down as well, better get comfortable while we wait for the man himself to show up.”

So this was the town people called 'Forsaken' ?

What a weird and out-of-the-norm name considering that people tended to whitewash downsides and exaggerate the positives about the things they, for some reason, called their property. This settlement indeed appeared to be rather forsaken to Mardyn. God-forsaken to be precise, simply because god probably would never allow the existence of a place so dusty and littered with the remains of everybody's business which, of course, seemed more focused on profit and speed than on sustainability.

Or was this opinion and first impression just heavily biased towards the negative ? Maybe because the inhabitants of Forsaken so far had done very little to give Mardyn a warm welcome ? Maybe the first bunch of people that had still turned their heads long after he had passed them had rendered him a bit paranoid, but there only seemed to come more and more of them! With their greedy eyes they stopped dead in their tracks and inadvertently formed temporary, human roadblocks that required evasive action more often than not. And had he just heard someone saying 'Look! He doesn't even have a gun!' ?

The good thing was that this Mr. Garrick had to be rich, even extremely rich to be able to spend no less than 15,000 gold coins on a mere escort job. Mardyn considered the odds of this being a fraud to be low given that even a rich man might cease to sleep well if an entire bunch of mercenaries was out there waiting to release their anger against him. So... whereever the estate Mardyn was looking for was... it had to be big and eexquisite. This inevitably meant that it was way easier to find than your average building -- a big plus considering the overall situation.

Half an hour later or so, the goliath found himself in front of a pair of gold-plated gates. Weren't those excessively impractical ? Gold was soft and easy to break through so the defensive value was dubious. Also some poor soul probably had to clean them every other day in order to maintain exactly the same shiny appearance that had such great potential to burn an innocent visitor's eyes out right away if the sun came in from the right angle. The walls looked way better though, solid and well built. Just how unfathomably deep had the pockets of Mr. Garrick to be in order to afford and maintain all of this ? The idea of switching business briefly streaked across Mardyn's mental horizon like a shooting star, just long enough to be noticed before intuition kicked in and reminded him that his duties were at complete discord with this thought.

Mardyn had been standing at the golden gates for less than five minutes before the latter were opened from inside and a finely dressed man with pointy ears approached him, craning his neck to inspect the newcomer.

"Sir, maybe I ask for your appointment ?" came it out of the butler's mouth with quite blatant training in terms of politeness.

Oh, yes! Gray hands larger than plates started patting down the clothes on Mardyn's skin until they finally caused the characteristic rustle of paper. From the inner pocket of his shirt, Mardyn presented the letter he had received from Mr. Garrick. The half-elf's facial expression switched from curiosity to sincerity as he started reading, only to suffer from a brief glitch of disappointment seconds later before returning to normal. Damn, this big guy was not part of the demolition team that was scheduled to finally tear down that abandoned building nearby!

"You may enter. I'll guide you to the study where the others have assembled."

The place was a palace... Never before had Mardyn seen anything that had come even close to the superb craftsmanship and artistic value so openly visible. He couldn't help but feel admiration, while at the same time he was disgusted. No mortal person could do so much work with her very own hands to earn all of this! Or, in other words and according to Mardyn's logic, many others had been given less than they had worked for. This was not exactly a bonus for his sympathy for this ominous Mr. Garrick.

The goliath entered the study using a duck-and-sideways technique for the doorframe was sufficient neither for his height nor for the broadness of his shoulders. He knew himself that this had potential for causing laughter, but saw little choice to do otherwise. Some others were already there and Mardyn dared to dart a quick glance towards everyone of them, silently nodding as a form of greeting at the same time.

The first thing to strike his mind was the presence of the large tiefling. This Mr. Garrick clearly wasn't picky in the traditional sense of most people, otherwise he might not have chosen one of the devilish kind. Mardyn did not exactly share this common prejudice, but he also wan't oblivious to its rather ubiquitous existence. The man clearly gave the impression of an able bodied fighter, just like what was to be expected.

Then there was the.... Genasi ? Mardyn had always had a little trouble with distinguishing them from some of the other races, but she just had to be a Fire Genasi he tried to reassure himself. Fragile and looking as if capable of being blown away by a gust of wind just like a mere tumbleweed, the goliath had to remind himself not to underestimate this individual to begin with. There were firearms, there was magic and there was speed. He expected not to be surprised when she'd display all three of them one day.

The Orc called Rokkit was hard to overlook. Couldn't the greenskin just have been a little more respectful to take of this massive armor before stepping in ? He certainly wouldn't need that in here, would he ? And Mr. Garrick probably wouldn't be fond of some scratches on his expensive floor caused by unnecessary heavy boots either. Needless to say that the couch looked as if nobody else could dare to sit down there as well even if there was enough room left. On the plus side the Orc's bulk underneath was hard to overlook. It would most likely need a lot more than one humble revolver shot to get this one down, except maybe for a quite exceptional marksman.

The tabaxi appeared like another bulwark of a man, but Mardyn deemed Drops of Rain to be much more unfortunate than the Orc once he spotted the prosthetic. He felt pity, but didn't express it openly at this point. If he had understood things correctly, everyone here had been more or less hand picked by their employer, so either Mr. Garrick was an ignorant fool or the individual in front of Mardyn's eyes was still capable of proving himself.

And another cat! Mardyn started to like Thunder's fur already even if, in his opinion, the number of different browns spread across Thunder's clothes didn't undo the utter mismatch of color. More bare black instead of brown and one ridiculous hat with openings for special ears less would have been better!

Just as Mardyn's view turned away in order to find a place to sit down for himself he saw something else. The subtle sight instantly cast a gentle smirk on his face which he did not hesitate to show towards the half-elf butler who still stood behind him. The goliath's right hand reached for the top of a large bookshelf and swept across it: dust! Some of the house's servants hadn't dared to take a little shortcut because this Mr. Garrick probably couldn't see this without a ladder anyway, had they ?

Then Mardyn sat down on the bare floor, not trusting any of the furniture present to suit him well.

Steps echoed from the hallway, the rhythmic click of heels on the polished floor. A high, decidedly polite laugh, and the tail end of a conversation drifted into the room.

"Miss Vanatar, do you really intend to join the rabble assembled in the study? I'm not quite sure what Mr. Garrick was thinking..."

"Any good party needs a wizard, Haldir, and perhaps a touch of class," Val replied, with another velvet laugh.

---

Following in Haldir's measured step, Valanthe strode into the room, dressed in a brilliant sapphire dress that touched the ground, she was a swirl of graceful movement as she entered the study. Her time in the local jail had been mercifully short and the week spent lounging in the only hotel of Forsaken, pitiful as it was, had left her feeling much restored. The profits from her latest gambling venture had been sizable and she spent the money on clothing and jewelry befitting a wizard.

"Valanthe Vantar, master wizard, at your service," Val said with a formal courtesy and a warm smile. "But please, call me Val, there is no need for pointless formalities."

She paused, examining the party that Garrick had assembled. Where Haldir saw coarseness, Val instead saw potential. She hated to work. She hated physical work even more still. Fortune once more shone upon her, she thought as she stared at the rugged individuals spread out across the study. A rough looking orc sat splayed across a couch. A tiefling lazed in a chair that verged on tipping over. A foreigner Val surmised, noting his strange armor and curved swords. Two rustic looking tabaxi filled out the party, rather large tabaxi at that if her past experience had been any indication. Taller still was the goliath, sitting on the floor of the study. However, for all her interest in her new colleagues, Val's eyes lingered the longest on the fire gensai sitting aloof from the others.

A smile danced across the moon elf's lips, as her eyes sparkled with growing mischief, "Well now, Cinder Nordes, as I live and breathe, what a wonderful surprise. I had no idea that you were in town again!"

"... shit."

A long sigh came from the genasi as she pinched the bridge of her nose, as if warding off a headache. "Val, for the love of the gods, tell me you're going to ditch immediately after this meeting is over."

"A wizard stays true to her word, Cinder. The mere idea of worrying Mr. Garrick is positively abhorrent to me. Besides, I could never imagine abandoning a dear and beloved friend in her time of need," Val said, striding across the room in gracefully as she lifted her sweeping dress slightly off the ground. Before Cinder could object, Val wrapped her slender arms around the Fire Gensai and pulled the other woman into a close hug.

"Oh Cinder, to see you here and to have you join me on another grand adventure is a warm balm to my soul. I have so missed our delightful conversations during my dusty travels in these quaint lands."

The lithe frame of Cinder was rigid and hard as stone, tensed against the embrace, and shaking with barely contained rage as her hair started to crackle and smell distinctly of smoke.

"Valanthe Vanatar," Cinder hissed into her ear, "I don't know what game you're playing at, but if you don't let go of me I swear I'm going to sear a permeant fist-mark into that smug face of yours."

"Dearest Cinder, it gladdens me to see that you are as fiery as ever. The two of us will have such a grand time," Val whispered with a laugh, pecking Cinder lightly on both cheeks in the elven manner before she pulled away.

The hair went from crackling quietly to bursting into a roaring fire in a matter of seconds, and the genasi was quite literally seething when Val pulled away, her fists clenched as she held herself back from letting her temper run away with her. This was hardly the place for that after all. She muttered a very long string of curses before moving as far away from the elf as was currently possible, shooting daggers at Val the entire time.

Cinder was trying to compose herself from the frankly horrifying realization that Valanthe was going to be a part of this job. She hadn't seen the elf in probably a good six months, and unless memories failed her, Valanthe had been well and locked up in a jailhouse somewhere. Again. How she got out was anyone's guess, but Cinder imagined it probably involved her donning the persona of some innocent, meek girl that had been falsely accused by the "brutish, terrible genasi." At least that was what had gotten her out the last twelve times Cinder had gotten Val thrown in jail. The distinct tang of smoke was starting to fill the room as her hair crackled and burned, her face now etched into a scowl as she tried to swallow her temper down and appear at least half way professional. After all there was too much money at stake for her to lose herself within the first ten minutes. Instead of continuing the conversation with Val, Cinder busied herself by examining the others that had entered the room.

The orc had made a good enough first impression. He'd entered and immediately gone to sit down without a word, not so much as greeting her before silently minding his own business and letting her be. He was, predictably, a rather large fellow, and Cinder imagined that he was probably some sort of hired muscle. Then again looks could be deceiving and she wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of knack she didn't know about. If nothing else he was quiet, and that was enough to assure Cinder that they would get along just fine. No needless chit-chat meant they'd probably avoid getting on each other's nerves, and the gods knew that Cinder was going to need someone quiet around to help her keep some sanity since Val was going to be there.

Next had been the tiefling. Oh, gods, not a tiefling. He had red skin, gold eyes, a warm smile, and his attire seemed completely out of place for this part of the world. There had been some merchants from the east with similar garb in the market she'd passed in town, so Cinder assumed he must be a foreigner from those parts, though she couldn't imagine how he'd ended up in Forsaken with them. A sneer of disdain crossed her face as they made eye-contact. Unlike most people Cinder's prejudice didn't stem from some sort of deep hatred for anything remotely fiendish. As someone who didn't really have much of a race to call her own, she had never really understood the culturally ingrained hatred for other races that seemed to be prevalent amongst the more common species. Her own prejudice towards the horned devils was much less complicated than all of that nonsense. She'd once fallen in love with one of their kind, and even married him, but then the sorry bastard had gone and stabbed her in the back by sleeping with someone else. She now hated tieflings on principle, especially the men. Cinder wasn't exactly going to go out of her way to make things difficult for them or hunt tieflings down, but she avoided them wherever possible. Ulleiss had gotten onto her about that several times.

The next two to enter had been a pair of cat-folk, presumably relatives of some sort judging by the resemblance they shared. One seemed to have some sort of prosthetic which intrigued Cinder, and she might even ask about it later if they managed to get enough drinks in her, but now was hardly the time or place. One of them looked like he'd scurry out of the room in a heartbeat if anyone so much as yelled at him. Must be his first time being in a place like this. Cinder felt a little bit of sympathy for the poor sod but reminded herself that he'd get used to it eventually, or he'd just end up quitting. Either way it wasn't her problem nor her responsibility to make him feel better. At any rate his relative seemed a little more at ease and spoke quite a bit to the group, addressing the orc specifically. Ah, so those three were locals. Technically Cinder supposed she was a local as well, given that she'd grown up in these parts, but it had been so long since she'd been back that it may not count anymore.

Then there had been the goliath. Cinder couldn't read much from him other than he seemed to be your pretty typical goliath; big, bulky, and constantly having to duck in order to avoid hitting his head on things. He was tall, even for one of his kind, and even as he sat on the floor he was still nearly as tall as Cinder was herself. His little gesture of swiping the dust off of the shelves had earned a slight chuckle from the genasi. It seemed that, at the very least, they could all agree that the butler was a judgmental and pompous ass, and she'd certainly worked with parties that had much less in common. The racial dynamics of the group were sure to cause some interesting interactions, but Cinder intended to stay as far away from the middle of that drama as possible and just enjoy watching the others crash and burn as misunderstandings and chaos ensued.

A few minutes after Val came in and did her little entrance the door opened again, swinging open to reveal an older human man who looked to be in his late eighties, though he seemed to still be moving well, walking only with the aid of a surprisingly simplistic wooden cane. His posture was straight, a gray pin-stripe suit adorning him with a silver pocket watch hanging from the pocket of his matching vest, a fine white dress shirt underneath. His hair was white as snow with not even a trace of whatever color it had been before remaining, and his eyes were a bright blue, their size seeming almost too big for his face as large round glasses magnified them somewhat. His expression was warm, a soft smile causing his eyes to wrinkle at the corners as he greeted all of them with a slight nod of the head.

"I'm glad to see you all made it here safely. I know some of you had a longer journey than most," he said, his tone seeming genuine in its address as he made his way over to the desk in the room and sat behind it.

"Please, all of you make yourselves at home, and should any of you need refreshments don't hesitate to ask. I'm very grateful that you've accepted my invitation. I know that my letter was rather short and you must have questions, so please, feel free to ask and I will do my best to clear the air where I am able."

Rokkit was content to sit and wait for a few minutes. His mind was already stimulated just taking in the sights and devising possible scenarios if he should, hypothetically, raid this place for resources and valuables. Though his attention would also be taken towards the various newcomers who'd arrived. The first, beyond the fiery red-head who was here before him, was a tiefling. He's seen many in his travels and often they're mercenaries of sorts, though what drew Rokkit's eyes was his weapon. A thin long sword of eastern design. Initially Rokkit thought it to be elven, but he does recognize that it belonged to... Some eastern nation. A place he's never been. But heard of their warriors before. It made Rokkit slightly curious as he's never closely examined such a blade and has heard much about them, though he also have heard similar things said of elven and dwarven blades as well, so Rokkit was more curious to dismiss rumor and boasting than cultural fascination.

Next to arrive were a pair of tabaxis. Rokkit didn't recognize them, but apparently one of them knew him. Rokkit wasn't too surprised: Despite being generally unsocial he did go into town either to deliver orders, gathering supplies, or simply shopping. Chances are this tabaxi saw him at a shop or eating at the Grub Pub. And considering Rokkit is the type of orc who considers wearing armor to be casual wear, he would be recognizable for anyone who bothered to be aware of him. "Uruk vrapog golnaukfark utotishi. Mubullan." He said in a harsh but clear orcish. Rokkit was aware of the possibility that this tabaxi may actually know what he's saying, so Rokkit figured he should be polite, but continued to speak orcish even if this tabaxi didn't know it simply to show him and the others that Rokkit was not much for casual conversation unless they're willing to navigate his orcish.

After the two catfolk, a goliath arrived. Rokkit remembers fighting goliaths back when he still ran with the Red Suns. Orcs were usually bigger and stronger than most mortal folks, but the goliaths were a reminder that there are always bigger beasts. Indeed Rokkit's first battle against them taught the orc not to always rely on his brute strength, because while it might be enough to overwhelm smaller and weaker creatures, when faced against even bigger enemies his strength was lacking. Had he fought alone Rokkit would've died that day, but fortunately the orcs outnumbered the Golaiths and Rokkit was able to escape with his head. Though if there was one consistency with the goliaths that Rokkit noticed it's that the goliaths seemed downright primitive at times. And this one was no exception: his attire was simply tribal and instead of guns he carried axes. A younger Rokkit would've scoffed at a barbarian like him, but it was those same axes that nearly decapitated the younger Rokkit, so he knew better than to underestimate this goliath just because he lacked the same tech as Rokkit did. Did bring to question what such a creature was doing here however. As far as Rokkit knew, goliaths aren't prone to mercenary work despite their strength. But then again Rokkit never met many goliaths to know what they do and don't normally do.

The last to arrive was an elf. Rokkit's eyes narrowed upon seeing her. She walked with the sort of grace and arrogance that Rokkit was all too familiar with. That cocksure attitude of superiority that, even with some merit, is often overblown. But at the same time had that strange fey aura that almost made a lesser man desire being underneath such an elf, and Rokkit had to advert his eyes less he too end up strangely fascinated with her. If his time with the elves taught him anything it was to never indulge one. Their aloof yet haughty attitude hide a devious cunning that made arrogant men think less of them, and weaker ones overestimate them. Rokkit hoped to never have to interact with her less he lose his composure and do something foolish. From the way she spoke to the redhead, the elf was indeed trouble.

Having never moved from his seat or really do much beyond looking at the others and responding to the tabaxi, it wasn't long before their host arrived. Abraham Garrick looked much like what Rokkit expected a man like him to look like: old, well dressed, white hair, and human. He offered refreshments however Rokkit didn't bother to ask for any, as he had already eaten his fill before coming here. Instead the orc went straight to questions. "What threats do you anticipate that you needed me specifically, and how will these threats target the phoenix I am transporting? Who else will be traveling with any others, such as handlers, caravaneers, et cetera? And to whom exactly is these creatures suppose to go to, in the event that for whatever reason I have to delivery the phoenix personally?"

"I invited you less for your fighting skills and more so for your prowess with gunsmithing, though undoubtedly your fighting expertise will be needed as well. I imagine you'll encounter any number of threats. The phoenix is a very rare and valuable creature, and anyone from my competitors to lowly bandits might try their hand at snatching it from you. More practically the majority of you use guns of some sort, with some exceptions, and on such a long journey with so many dangers I imagine they'll get a fair amount of use. It'd be best to have an expert on hand who can repair them efficiently. There will be a few others coming along the journey with you. Two expert handlers to make sure everything is handled correctly, along with a chuck wagon, and another wagon for supplies, both of which will be driven by two more of my men. The person I'm sending the pheonix to will meet you in Sasarka, as will the buyer of the hippogriffs. Both will have signed and sealed letters by me identifying them, and the seal will match the one on all of your letters. If they cannot produce these letters, then they are not the people you are looking for. I would tell you their names but you must understand that anyone in this room could easily send someone ahead to obtain the sealed letters from these individuals, and then where would we be?" The man chuckled.

Rokkit listened to Garrick, still not totally convinced. Rokkit had pride in his smithing skills but he knew he was far from the best, even in town. But with a bit more thinking, that's also likely why Rokkit was hired. Even if there were more skilled gunsmith they may ask for more, or would need to bring their entourage. Not to mention Rokkit may be the oddity of being a gunsmith who does know how to fight, professionally even, as oppose to simply shooting for self-defense. So Rokkit wasn't just going to be the camp gunsmith but also a mercenary as well, which something Garrick likely considered when choosing Rokkit. So the orc didn't question him about it any further. As for second half of his question, Garrick didn't really say anything specifically. Of course bandits and even other mercenaries may waylay their caravan, that was a given. But Rokkit wanted to know who exactly might be, who the competition is, and what sort of bandits might be between here and Sasarka. As much as Rokkit tries he's not omniscient and isn't all too aware of Garrick's affair or the dangers on the road, and Rokkit hoped the old man did his research.

As for his second question, Rokkit was somewhat pleased to hear that this ragtag band of mercs aren't expected to handle the hippogriffs and transportation on their own. Rokkit has no particular affinity towards beasts, let alone mythical ones, so better to leave that in the hands of the experts. Additionally there's be two more to operate the wagons, for a total of four extra hands. Saves Rokkit from having to remember how to lead horses again. Presumably the supplies in the wagon will be enough for the group to survive off for a month, though that did make Rokkit think of something else important. Finally Garrick explained that the people buying the beasts will have letters similar to the one Rokkit received from the man himself. It's for that same reason Garrick can't disclosed their names in the event anyone here decides to leave the job for some treachery. Made sense.

"Who are your competitors? And do you know of any gangs that we might run into? I assume you have already got a path mapped out for us specifically to avoid the most trouble, and taking into account what trouble we might run into regardless." Rokkit didn't have any more questions but he did have a request and spoke it plainly. "I will need payment in advance for my own supplies. There are resources in town that will be a valuable asset to ensure the safety of your cargo. And by accepting this down payment you can guarantee that I will not default on this job short of my demise." While Rokkit doubts he has the time to work on anything big, if he could get some extra coin in his pocket he could buy important material components for his infusions and personal projects. Namely Soul Gems, Spell Components, and some extra equipment. All for the sake of the mission of course.

"My friend, I have many competitors in this business. To name them all would take longer than I think we have, but you are right in assuming that I've mapped out a course for you that will hopefully minimize any interaction with unseemly folk. As for any specific gangs, I don't know of any who specifically have it out for me so your guess is as good as mine as far as which ones might try their hand." Mr. Garrick reached into a drawer and produced a rolled up map, setting it on the desk for any of them to take.

"I'm willing to give each of you a third of your earnings in down payment. That will give you 5,000 gold up front that you can use on whatever you'd like for the journey. Normally I would give half, but you must understand that it is a rather large sum and I'd rather not encourage any of you to run off without upholding your end of the bargain."

Rokkit was unsatisfied with Garrik's response, but didn't feel the need to press any further. Suffice to say Rokkit was right that this job wasn't going to be as simple as he thought it might, and not knowing who might be after them meant Rokkit needed to be extra careful for treachery and tricks while they travel. Rokkit was no strange to skullduggery in business, so there was no telling what Garrick's competition might try to do to deprave them of their cargo. As for the down payment, 5000 gold was more than what Rokkit had anticipated so he simply nods his head. That was more than enough for Rokkit to buy what he needs for the road. Indeed, Rokkit could very well revitalize his business with just that much money. But he couldn't let greed get the better of him. By accepting this money Rokkit had to finish the job. Not for any personal honor, but simply out of contractual obligation. Garrick was a powerful man and if he finds out Rokkit fled with the money, the orc knew his business would be over. And Rokkit had no interest in a life of petty banditry and certainly not groveling back at Redsun for safety. No, if Rokkit takes this money he will complete the mission.

Satisfied with the answers Rokkit silently look to the others to see what they had to ask. He was sure they might have more important things that Rokkit might've missed, or they could ask dumb questions that Garrick would have no reason to know or answer. It'll just give Rokkit more insight on the people he'll have to work with, and likely fight alongside of. He wasn't too sure who among them was going to be a reliable fighter. The Goliath was no doubt a warrior but Rokkit was doubtful of his abilities fending off cowardly bandits who'll just run and gun him. The tiefling may be a skilled swordsman but a single sword can't cut down a hail of bullets. The cats didn't look much like warriors but then again he doesn't know anything about them at all. The elf was an elf, probably had magic, but she doesn't seem like the type who would want to get involved in a fight even if she was capable. And finally the fiery redhead who, if Rokkit had to guess, likely had literal firepower in her finger tips and also the dragon that was oddly docile. These were just his first impressions of them but with any luck they'll change. And if he's luckier still, they'll change for the better.

Defiance took in the responses and reactions that each person seemed to give, starting with those that arrived after him and working his way back around again. Tabaxi, two of them in fact, and they looked like the sturdy kind of travelers, and he imagined the two had plenty of interesting stories to share. They didn't either give him the kind of death glare that implied an overt hate, so that was progress too! Might be able to swap stories around a campfire, then, they would be spending a good month at least traveling together after all. Wasn't too much else to glean from merely looking at them, siblings from what they were saying, and he offered the two a warm, friendly smile and offhand wave. No sense being rude to those he'd be working with, and they were showing themselves to be polite enough. Sounded like locals too, from the way they spoke and carried themselves, which was good. They'd know the local area a bit better than those who'd traveled a further ways to get here. "Pleasure to make your acquaintances, both of you. Like I mentioned to these fine two already here, names Defiance. Mercenary and hunter, at your service."

Next to enter was a Goliath, this far south? Well, he had swung a fair bit upwards in a north easterly direction during his trek, so he supposed it wasn't surprising to see one. He'd done his homework on them after his first encounters with the powerful, and reclusive, people, and was impressed with them overall. Earned their keep, treated life as a daily challenge, and were damned good to have around when it came to warding off trouble. The imposing presence along worked wonders, and this one was no different in that regard. Still, the goliath would get a friendly, polite nod and wave from the tiefling, though he didn't repeat himself a third time with introductions and such, given he was fairly certain by the time he got to addressing the tabaxi siblings, well, the Goliath had already arrived. Armed to the teeth, and he knew first hand that simple didn't mean any less deadly. In fact, sometimes it was more deadly given how much force such tools could bring to bear with singular purpose.

Next up was an elf that seemed to have history with the genasi who had given him the death glare. There was always one, sadly more usually, but one he would take as an improvement. Defiance listened to this elf all but harassing the fiery redhead and he couldn't help but chuckle at the display before him. Oh this was going to be a good time, he could imagine, given the back and forth going on between the two. Even if one of them openly disdained him, well, he could always try and prove his worth as he always did. Might work this time too, but hey, no sense being down about it. Still, it seemed the two had history, and as far as the genasi was concerned, probably nothing good. As for the elf, she seemed to put that history to good use, and had introduced herself as a 'master wizard', interesting! Perhaps they could discuss schools of magic, western methodology was intriguing indeed, and there was no harm in learning or improving ones craft through the use of another discipline completely.

Abraham Garrick finally decided to show up, and the Tiefling focused his attention on the man. Aging, but in good health it looked like, though it seemed the resident Orc was keen on asking his questions first. Good ones too, smart as he looked then, given the kit the fellow had on hand from a glance. Who was coming along, who these beasts were going to, how to identify them, the works. No names, but that eliminated sending word ahead if someone proved to be the more unsavory type. Seems the orc was along for the gunsmithing, which gave him a good idea of those he worked with. Lot of firearms, lot of ranged prowess, though that did weaken things a touch if trouble got close. Then again, that was probably what the Goliath was around for as well. He provided muscle, and Defiance would provide finesse. Trying to identify those who would be coming after them was also good to know, being able to prepare for specific methods was usually better than just hoping you prepared for everything well enough. No luck there, not really, but the map intrigued him and the tiefling would collect it barring anyone else stepping.

"Map is definitely helpful, thank you very much. Tea as well, if you'd be so kind? As for my questions, well, let's start with the pragmatic. Road and trail conditions this time of year, especially along this route you planned? Last thing we need is the wagon getting stuck in some muddy rut, or worse, depending on the conditions. Speaking of, what are our alternative routes in case something goes sideways? Mudslides, flooding, impassable blockages, the works. There's a couple branching trails and routes marked out here, though what's passable for 'a wagon or two' and what's passable for 'a herd of hippogriffs, several wagons, armed guards and pheonix' differ greatly. I've got a knack for routing on the fly, but better to stick to the plan if at all possible."

Mr. Garrick briefly called the butler back in, asking to have some tea brought in before turning his head back to the tiefling and listening to the rest of what he had to say, nodding his head a little in acknowledgement as Defiance spoke.

"The road conditions are usually pretty hot and dry for the most part. The first part of your journey will be through mostly desert, of course the further east you go the more livable conditions will get- of course I'm sure the desert won't bother some of you. If it does rain you'll have to worry about flash flooding. Other than that your biggest concern will just be making sure you ration your water properly, and I have of course sent enough with y'all that it should last you at least until you get where there are rivers and creeks again. As for alternate routes, I'm afraid there aren't many. I've got one marked off in red for you should anything happen, but for the first part of your journey water is so sparse that you have to hit specific watering holes or you risk endangering the hippogriffs. Of course you'll have the ocean for part of your journey, but that really doesn't do much good as far as drinking water. You'll have a few more options when water gets more plentiful."

Defiance accepted the tea with a nod of gratitude, taking a sip as he listened to Mr. Garrick answer his first set of questions. Hot, dry, and beyond the odd chance of flash flooding, it would be water that would be the key concern. The man certainly said as much, and the tiefling went through his mind to figure out what they could do for water should planning have proven insufficient. First thought, in the rare chance it did rain, they could collect rain water, that would be a relatively safe method of collection, though that relied on, well, rain in a desert. That also creates the concern for flash flooding, but that bridge would get burned if they had to cross it. Alternative routes didn't exist until they were well and truly out of the water starved leg, but that meant anyone looking to waylay this caravan would be also able to plot out the route. No real means to avoid conflict if it was looking for them, then. Once water is more plentiful options opened up, and they did have one backup though they needed to hit watering holes for the sake of the hippogriffs. The ocean was a welcome bit of news, even if not for drinking water, it was vastly preferred over the desert alone.

"Meaning anyone wishing to try and waylay us would know our route without too much effort, given the need for water. So trouble is pretty much certain, good to know. So, on a less pragmatic footing, I'm curious what has an elderly human, no offense, willing to overlook the horns and such that most of time has people throwing holy symbols and praying, and all that fun nonsense. Otherwise, your letter mentioned the Pheonix reaching its destination was of utmost importance, even above everything else. I have trouble believing money alone is the reason for that, care to explain that one or is it one of life's little mysteries?"

"Frankly, my boy, I couldn't care less about your heritage. What I care about is how well you can do your work, and word of mouth says that you're pretty damn good. As far as the phoenix goes, pardon my bluntness, but that's between my client and I."

Defiance snorted in genuine amusement at the remark on how well he could do his work. Apparently someone had been saying nice things behind his back, or at least honest things. He could work with that, frankly, and the remark was somewhat worth of respect. As for the pheonix, he wasn't surprised that was a stonewalled avenue, and he shrugged, returning to his chair, tea in one hand and the unfolded map in the other as he took to studying the route in detail. He could pry information from the hired help along the way, or hells, maybe the pheonix itself would prove to be a source of information all its own. Still, even if he got nowhere, the pay was good and he couldn't argue that. He might take some of that funding they were getting before hand to stock up on extra water, he hated deserts, but he wouldn't have come out to this job if he wasn't willing.

"Fair points, no more questions from me. I'll hang onto the map unless someone else wants to see it, going to see about fine tuning our route where ever possible. Never hurts to be prepared."

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It was nice to just let Thunder do the talking, and Rain inwardly chuckled at his brothers’ words of the uppity rich douchebags. Seeing an upper-class rich lad try and do anything on the farm would be a sight to behold.

Rain followed his brother’s advice and found himself a spot on one of the sofas. Oddly enough the closest one nearby was with the Orc. The stiff, cold leather squeaked when he sat down, and he got a whiff of age and polish from the deep green leather.

He gave a polite nod up at the Orc and he nodded as well when the Goliath arrived. The elf though, Valanthe, demanded attention when she danced into the study and promptly began pestering Cinder.

Definitely some history there. Rain wagered.
But by the gods, if the Elf woman didn’t look finer than all the stars on a calm clear night.

This group was shaping up to be a mix of all sorts which suited Rain just fine but it was a bit odd to hear the Orc speak a different language. Admittedly Rain was relieved when the Orc started speaking common to ask questions, having no idea what he had said just before.

Rain listened hard as the others asked Mr Garrick, a rather prim and proper looking old human, their own questions. Mr Garrick himself seemed like a good sort to Rain, as he answered everyone’s questions calmly and fully.

The answers he gave to the Orc didn’t exactly fill Rain with any amount of confidence; the way Mr Garrick was making sound was as if it was a big undercover operation with danger at every turn, but the Orc kept a level head which Rain could appreciate. It never did any good to get ahead of one-self and worry.

Two expert Handlers would be focussing on the animals, and Rain supposed he would be partnered with them.

He chewed on his cheek as he thought.

The questions from Defiance were very good and Rain couldn’t help nodding along trying to keep the answers locked away in his mind. The journey sounded straight forward on paper and Mr Garrick was being generous enough to give them some pay beforehand. Rain decided he’d try and give it a look over later, having absolutely no idea where anything was past the plains of Forsaken it wouldn’t do much good for him to have the map.

“Mr Garrick. Sir.” Rain held up a hand and waited before he continued. “My Brother and I brought our own horse and wagon if needed; Delilah may be old, but she can keep a good pace and works just as hard as any horse half her age.”

"As long as your horse can keep up with the rest, then I don't see an issue with you bringing your own wagon. Might be useful for some extra supplies if y'all are willing."

“Yes, of course, Sir. She won’t let you down. We ain’t got much but we’re all working together so.” Rain shrugged, indicating that whatever they had they’d share. Already bracing for Thunder to butt in.

That made things a lot easier, he wouldn’t have to drive her all the way back to the farm and then find another way back again. Hopefully Mr. Garrick would give them a bit of time before leaving to get a few more bits and pieces.

“May I also ask about the condition of the animals, Sir? If we’re looking after them I’d like to see how they’re being prepared for the journey and know how to handle them.”

And see if you’re treating them right. He thought darkly to himself. Seen too many beasts treated like nothing.

Rain couldn’t help but frown heavily as he pictured the scenes in his head; A crocodile with its teeth removed, A several dire wolf pups in stacked in cages far too small, a baboon with its hands cut off, and a whole host of other rare creatures in horrid conditions.

Mr. Garrick nodded at his next question. "I'd be more than happy to have one of our hands take you down to the enclosure they're in so you can have a look at how they're cared for and learn some of the ropes."

Rain nodded with approval knowing that at the very least Mr Garrick wasn’t trying to hide anything, but then again, they would be seeing the creatures anyway so wasn’t as if Mr Garrick could hide any wrong-doing for long.

“And also, meet the others we’re travelling with?”

"I want to get the pressing questions our of the way first, but as soon as everyone is satisfied with their answers I had intended on having you all introduce yourselves. On that note I'd like to invite all of you to dine with me this evening, if you're so inclined. It would be a good opportunity for us all to become better acquainted with each other."

Rains ears perked at the mention of food. After seeing the fancy furnishings around the study and the rest of the mansion he had glimpsed on his way in Rain could only imagine the sort of food that would be on offer.

Rain simply nodded politely and shot Thunder a coded look with raised eyebrows.

Free food at a fancy man’s house, can’t complain about that!

“O boy” chuckled Thunder as he observed the interaction between Cinder and the Elf. Those girls sure have a dynamic going on between them. Their history would certainly be good stories for around a campfire. However at the same time such women tend to be trouble. Better follow the age old advice of don’t stick your dick in crazy. Judging from how Rain was staring at the elf, Thunder could only hope that his younger brother would follow the same advice as well.

“I knew it. The blacksmith, so that’s where I recognized you from.” Responded Thunder in Orcish with a big smile/ The words were pronounced right but it still sounded like a Tabaxi speaking Orcish as it is really hard for non-orcs to get that deep, hard guttural sound.

The truth was that the party seemed rather small to handle the amount of cattle they had to transport. Most of the others in this room looked like they had no experience with animals at all. Not that Thunder was that great with animals. From all his parents' children, it was he that had the least affinity with animals and farm life.

The eldest brother had always looked from a different perspective at animals then his father or siblings. He would come up with ideas that no one really thought about. Like that one day that he launched an experiment to see if you could season chickens while they were still alive by feeding them corn mixed with hot pepper.

Most of the people gathered here looked more like a protection detail than cattle herders. Thunder could not help to wonder what Mr Garrick had to say. Luckily for Tabaxi he did not have to wait for long before the old man himself entered the study and started talking.

Rokkit the Orc was quickly to fire his barrage of questions and Thunder listened intensely to what the old man had to say when answering the Orc’s questions. The thing that the Tabaxi immediately noticed were the details that Garrick wasn’t talking about. He simply refrained to his competitors, bandits and mercenaries for dangers on the road, somewhat pretending that he did not know from whom the threat would come. But in reality. Alle filthy ass rich people know each other. They don’t let an opportunity go to waste to wag their dicks around showing how big they are. Thunder was pretty sure that Garrick knew very well where the threats were coming from.

As the Thiefling was asking about the trail conditions Thunder realised that there was just truly one way through the desert and everyone with a bit of knowledge of the area and more than one brain cell could make a good educated guess about where the caravan would be on what point in time as long as they know when they had left mr Garricks estate.. This job started to sound more dangerous by the minute. Quickly Thunder glanced at his younger brother. The kid probably had not much of a clue of the dangers that they would certainly face on this job.

For a moment the eldest Tabaxi thought about if he had any questions for Garrick. So far the first things on his mind had already been covered, then he remembered stories about how Hippogriffs tend to rather have bad moods making them difficult to handle.

“Want me to cook something up for the hippogriffs? Heard that those beasts tend to have terrible moods making them a pain in the ass to handle. I can definitely think about a few ways to make them more docile. However some of them could have some side effects. Like, if they have been on potion for a month, they might have even worse moods for a week or so when they don’t get any anymore. I guess which one depends on how much you value your client. Anyway, I can cook something up for you as well mister goliath. Something that temporarily helps you fit under doors and makes you fit at the table for dinner. Sounds good, right?”

Thunder paused a bit to think. If there were some more questions he’d want to ask but first he wanted a refreshment.

“O, I’ll like a shot of whiskey, make that a double one and dinner sounds great too. Nothing beats good food in ones belly.”

Having dinner in Mr. Garrick's estate ? Even if the food here would just be half as expensive and good-looking as the building itself, this would be the greatest meal he'd ever had. The thought lifted Mardyn's mood significantly and it was clearly visible on his face for a small number of moments if one paid any attention to him. However... what if Mr. Garrick had a poisoner mapped to an equally lavish entry in his payroll ? One could pick people by hand for a lot of reasons, as many malicious as benign probably. Fortunately though for the goliath this kind of random thought had not much of an opportunity to last as it now was his turn to state any questions.

The others had already eliminated some of the items on Mardyn's list, so he wondered if his first inquiry should actually be something along the lines of whether Mr. Garrick would prefer him asking questions still sitting on the floor or standing upright, inevitably staring down at the man.

What a stupid idea! The protest of the more strictly rational part of Mardyn's mind was quick and resolute. If their employer was susceptible to even the slightest bit of discomfort caused by an imposing individual, how would he then be able to handle the plethora of large creatures in his backyard ? Something told the goliath that a dozen griffons and a phoenix were neither the first nor the only thing this Mr. Garrick was dealing with. This, in fact, was even related to the first question he'd actually put up.

With his scalp having approached the supporting beams of the ceiling almost to the point of touching them, Mardyn addressed Mr. Garrick with a calm tone: "I would like to ask whether any and if so, how many of your personnel will accompany us. Maybe this is not the first time you send people on this route and you got some kind of dedicated, experienced expert for flora, fauna and the like ? Just as an example."

Please tell me that this elf won't come with us! Please tell me that behind his pointy ears he's a sickly man with a weak heart and an obsession with cleaning he'd never be able to maintain in a desert! I don't like him, even if it's just my mere intuition and maybe he's a very nice person!

"There will be four of my men in total, which makes eleven of y'all. I mentioned it a bit earlier but there will be two experts for the hippogriffs, and they've been on many drives before so they'll probably be able to keep you fairly on the right path. The other two are wagon drivers. Oh one of thems is a cook by the way, so that's covered too. Between all of you, that's about three hippogriffs per person, plus the phoenix, so y'all ought to be alright. As for experts in flora and fauna, well... I'm sure the alchemist knows a bit given how many tinctures they tend to use. My men all know the basics for survival so I suppose between all of you, you've got a fair bit of knowledge. I know a few of you travel by yourselves fairly regularly so surely you've got some useful knowledge in that area."

Two wagon drivers ? If one added the one person of the party who had mentioned having a wagon as well that were three in total. Mardyn was really not experienced in terms of long, complicated travels that involved more individuals than his mere self, but that appeared to be a little on the short side for comfort.

"If I'm not mistaken that makes three wagons in total or some have to be driven by people who are no dedicated drivers. Most of that space will probably be occupied by our living cargo and supplies. I assume the remainer will be left to make the journey on foot ? Nothing against it, just asking."

Mardyn shrugged his tremendous shoulders slightly. It really was more a question out of pure interest, but on the other hand there certainly was the possibility that there'd be somebody whose capability to fight or make proper decisions in a dangerous situation would be impaired by the lack of comfort.

"Unless you've brought your own transport, then I suppose so. Of course you're always free to grab something before y'all leave. I'm not against you all bringing your own comforts on the trip, it's going to be a very long journey and anything to make it easier is hardly worth protesting, but given that I'm paying you a substantial sum of money I'm not going to just... Provide everything you could possibly need. I may be wealthy, but even I have my limits, hm?" He chuckled a bit.

"I'm providing all of the food you will need, along with water rations, and tents for each of you. Whatever other luxuries you require are your responsibility."

Well, that response was a little more harsh than Mardyn had anticipated. However it wasn't like he had come entirely unprepared for this, so his next question was clearly aimed and squeezing some more information about their employer out of the latter. Maybe even some information Mr. Garrick was not all too easy with sharing:

"Well, I have one more item on my list: How did it happen that you found us, or rather that we managed to attract your attention in the first place ? I mean... it hasn't been exactly like there would have been an overabundance of posters and pamphlets for the job hanging around, and as far as I can remember at least I did not reach out proactively to you either. So, just for a bit of mutual trust, may I ask what kind of elaborate network I've trapped into that alerted you so efficiently about my existence and potential suitability for the task at hand ?"

The old man gave him a deadpan stare for a moment, as if trying to process his question. His face was struggling to remain neutral but his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion while he formed his response.

"Well lad, there was no 'elaborate network,' for one thing. I simply asked around my circle of acquaintances. I told them the sort of people I was looking for, they had worked with you before on some sort of job- I believe it was guarding a marriage or some such -and recommended you to me. I asked around a bit more to get an idea of your work history and then sent off a letter once I was confident in your abilities, and it was a similar circumstance for the rest of you as well. There was nothing efficient about it, let me tell you. I've been searching around and planning this journey for months. Word of mouth, my boy. That's all it was."

Now it was Mardyn's turn to grant himself some processing time, but rather not for Mr. Garrick's answer but how the man could actually see any difference between a 'circle of acquaintances' and a network like he imagined it. After some noticeable amount of time, the goliath came to the conclusion that there simply was none. He did not bother with telling Mr. Garrick however for it really hardly was much of an issue. The whole point of the question had been his interest and desire to see whether Mr. Garrick would be willing to gain his trust and actually provide a reply that made sense.

It did, everything else was nitpicking about details.

"My boy ? Okay. Well, let's see what your boy can do for you." Mardyn said with a grin. "I do not have any further questions at this point. Thank you."

Having suffered patiently through a litany of questions concerning matters that were far beneath the necessary attentions of a master wizard, Val had somehow managed to remain quiet and composed.

"Performing great feats of magic requires a certain amount of rest and necessary comforts. It would be a tragedy if I was too tired to cast a spell as a result of overtaxing my delicate constitution."

"... As I told our fine goliath friend, any comforts beyond the basic necessities are your own responsibility, Miss Vanatar."

"How sad," Val mused with a hint of mischief in her voice, "I had hoped perhaps that an exception might be made, but I shall welcome the challenge of acquiring a carriage for my personal for my private usage at a reasonable price."

"Cinder, perhaps you would like to be my driver? I will pay you a fair wage in compensation. You were always so wonderfully talented when it came to simpler tasks," Val asked with a soft smile and what might have passed for kindness in the elf sparkling behind her eyes.

Silence greeted the elf as Cinder gave her deadpan stare. The flames in her hair had died down a little, but it continued to smolder while she remained in Valanthe's presence.

"Why don't you ask one of the tabaxi to do it? They already have a wagon, just ride with them. I've got Ulleiss to look after.

"Oh, but Cinder, you are such a wonderful conversationalist, and we have so much to catch up on," Val said, clasping her hands together dramatically as she relished the moment of banter and teasing. She had forgotten how much more fun adventuring was when Cinder was forced to travel beside her.

"However, you raise an intriguing point, my dearest Cinder," Val continued, turning towards the tabaxi brothers. "Gentleman, do you perhaps have space in your wagon for a gentle wizard and her modest possessions? And if not, might one of you be interested in driving a carriage for me. I have no doubt I can find one for a winning price in town if there is a need for more space on what promises to be an undoubtedly perilous journey."

Cinder could be heard actually laughing behind her but it was clearly too dry to be genuine amusement, and was more likely to be the wry sort of laughter one does when they hear something so outrageous they can't even contemplate how to respond.

Pursing her lips into a thin smile, Val waggled a finger at Cinder, as if playfully chastising the fire gensai for interrupting her proposition to the tabaxi brothers.

"Well, gentleman, what do you say?" Val said, flashing her most winning smile. "Naturally, I will compensate you fairly for any services rendered. I am afraid my talents in wizardry far exceed my ability to handle animals and wagons."

If Cinder had a coin for every time someone in this room asked a stupid question, she'd have... Well, a lot of coins. She hadn't exactly been keeping track of every person's questions, but a couple of them had managed to make her roll her eyes. The orc it seemed was practical and greedy, which she could respect. He also didn't seem keen on talking to anyone that he didn't have to, and this she could also respect. Cinder had been known to socialize on occasion, but for the most part the genasi preferred to mainly enjoy either solitude or the company of her dragon Ulleiss, who wasn't prone towards towards being irritating or otherwise unpleasant to be around. At least not until he started lecturing her...

The tiefling was charismatic and charming (typical), and seemed very keen to get information on the phoenix that they were supposed to be transporting. Cinder would be lying if she said that it didn't pique her curiosity as well. However she had no intention of jeopardizing her payday by sticking her nose where it didn't belong, and frankly she didn't understand why anyone else would want to do so either. What good was that going to do them? Sure, a phoenix was a rare sight indeed, but the fact of the matter was that it wasn't their problem who it did or didn't go to, and she very much doubted that a well-known businessman such as Mr. Garrick would involve himself in anything that was overtly criminal or worth sticking their nose into, and if he were going to do so she found it hard to believe that he would hire a bunch of wayward strangers to transport the cargo. It just wasn't logical. Wouldn't it make more sense to just send people that he trusted on an undercover errand, and to avoid the show of it all?

Then there were the two tabaxi, who appeared to be siblings. They seemed fairly unproblematic. The one was quiet as a dormouse and spoke very politely, and overall seemed like a decent fellow. Poor thing. It also seemed that Val had caught his eye, and Cinder almost cringed in sympathy for the young Tabaxi as she imagined how many different ways Val would have him twisted around her slimy fingers. Perhaps she should give him a warning... Well, she wasn't going to interrupt the meeting to do it, but if an opportunity presented itself she'd probably say something. It would be cruel to not at least try and save the poor boy some heartache. Hopefully his brother would see an issue with it as well and say something, but Cinder wasn't prone towards relying on other people to do the smart thing. That being said his brother didn't seem terrible either. He was a lot more talkative (and perhaps a tiny bit mad), which could be annoying if he started to pester her, but as long as he minded his business and didn't try to interact with her too much she'd be fine with him.

Then there was the goliath... She had a feeling that he was going to be a problem. He seemed to be the dramatic type, and his questions indicated that he thought there was some sort of conspiracy as to how Mr. Garrick had come to hire them. Cinder's question was why? It was hardly unusual for a wealthy person to gather several different people to form a party for a task that they'd rather not do themselves, and if she remembered the letter she received correctly then he had been gathering people "of some repute," meaning that all of them would have a reputation of some sort in their field of work. Was he really that surprised that someone had recommended him? That didn't give her much confidence as to his abilities, but then again, she wasn't the one paying him so she supposed that it didn't really matter all that much. Then there was his question about transportation. What did he think this was? A charity? She figured that most reasonable people would have arranged for their own transportation when informed that they were going on a drive across the continent, but maybe she was just crazy. Cinder gave him in particular a rather long and unimpressed glance before her attention was called away by Val.

Ugh, Val... The pointy-eared devil was a menace, and Cinder just hoped she'd decide this drive was too much work for her. She really didn't want to deal with her for the entire drive.

"I have just one question, sir," Cinder spoke up once it seemed that everyone else was done.

"What time is dinner?"

Mr. Garrick chuckled at her question.

"It'll be at 5:30 sharp. All of you are welcome to roam the grounds and explore a bit until then- I know one of you fine boys wanted to see the livestock you'll be transporting, yes?" He nodded towards the two tabaxi.

"Just listen to whatever the guards tell you to do and mind your distance from the fences. Some of the creatures are docile, but others... Not so much. I'll send my butler to call after all of you once supper is about to be served. Unless there's anything else, y'all are free to collect your down payments and go."

"Thank you."

Cinder walked over to the desk and waited as the old man reached down and pulled out a drawer, producing a sack of coin which he then handed to her. She gave a respectful nod before backing away from the desk, turning on her heel, and quickly making an exit out of the room in an attempt to escape before Val or anyone else could try to talk to her.

Everyone asked their questions and Rokkit paid some attention to them, only to take out his book and make a quick note about what everyone had said. He really couldn't be bothered to remember everything that was said. As he wrote down his notes he looked back on previous notes as well. Pages filled with scattered messages, directions, lists, and doodles. He keeps his actual schematics in a different book, one that looked far more important for a glorified diary. That being said some of the notes in this one also were important. In particular, a few shops that Rokkit has plans to go visit. With the 5k down payment Rokkit will be able to afford a lot of things he couldn't have bothered to make or work on before. Sure, he already has the necessary equipment and materials for general repair and ammunition manufacturing, but he was going to use this money to buy parts to make new weapons. It was difficult for Rokkit to not want to just leave with that money right now and immediately start working on his projects.

The life of a gunsmith, even one out here in the sticks, was not an easy one. Rokkit had to postpone many personal projects and experiments simply to pay his taxes to the town. And it was hard to do that when you're a bad businessman more interested in creating weapons than making what a customer wants. Back in the clan, Rokkit never took the term "The Customer is always right" seriously. Seemed like something self-righteous cravens say just to justify harassment and discounts. But since moving to Forsaken Rokkit has learned it's true meaning that if he can't sell a product that people want, no matter how earnest or well he does make his weapons, no one will want to buy from him. That's why he had to stop his projects and make more conventional firearms, weapons that normal people liked. Nothing he liked of course but... It put food on the table.

Thinking about that life made Rokkit have a moment of introspection. What was it that he wanted? He always had some grand, lofty goal to one day go back to the Redsun clan and get his revenge for what had happened, but he hasn't really made that many efforts towards it. He never joined a warband that would fight them, or find other orcs who had similar ideals. Even after learning magic Rokkit never once though about how to use any of it against the traitors. It was always just about creating weapons and exploring the possibility of designs. Even this job, what did he stand to gain from it? Money, of course, but to what end? Was he going to come back to his shop and try and invest that money to make a living here? Or blow it all on zanny schemes and projects?

Too much thinking on Rokkit's part. He hasn't even gotten that down payment yet and he's already distracting himself on a what-if future. He needed to focus on the here and now. Garret offered the group dinner, which Rokkit would gladly part take in. He wasn't one to complain about free food even if it's of poor quality. Orcs aren't known for their excellent cuisine after all. Plus it was going to be a chance to actually introduce himself to the others. Rokkit's normally not one for a social gathering but he wasn't entirely against it either. As long as no one expects him to dress up formally: the best he'll do is a cleaner version of his current look. "So be it. Just hand over the initial payment, and I will meet you back here for dinner."

After dealing with whatever formalities Rokkit needed doing, he had left the mansion to do some shopping. There are a few gunshops that Rokkit had a professional relationship with. Probably the only good thing about his business management skills: he never registered as a threat to the rest of the competition in the town, assuming any of them even knew who he was. Which they probably don't, considering that the only time he ever goes to their store was to buy parts. The first place he stopped at was a dwarven gunshop known as the Gunhammer. It's sign was the aforementioned gunhammer, a gun and hammer hybrid. Rokkit questioned the functionality of such a weapon, but if anyone could do it, it'll likely be the dwarves. Aside from their strange choice in weaponry another thing the Gunhammer sold was antique dwarven weapons. Things that most people don't really buy for practical use, such as greataxes or warhammers. They also have some guns from an older time, before they were rendered obsolete with more advanced weapon technology. And it was one of such weapons that Rokkit was interested in.

It was called a Dwarven Seven Barrel Shooter. It was probably called something more poetic in dwarven, but Rokkit neither knew or cared what that name was. What he cared about was the strange design of this weapon. The gun was basically a musket mounted onto a revolver frame, otherwise known as a pepperbox. Such designs were created back in the days where guns had to be muzzle loaded with powder and shot, so the dwarves thought it more efficient to simply bring a gun that had multiple barrels primed and ready, as oppose to constantly loading and shooting a single barrel during the heat of battle. The real key however was the fact the dwarves created the paper cartridge for the Seven Barrel Shooter, enabling them to load powder directly into the gun without need of a ramrod, which was considered the height of gunsmithing back in the day.

Indeed, the weapon was so popular that it was chosen by most dwarven governments as the new standard of arms for their soldiers, and saw mass production. Which naturally led to multiple gun companies trying to improve on the design, which ultimately lead to the current age of firearms, where bullets are jacketed with metal instead of just raw powder crushed against a leaden ball. At that point the needlessly bulky and heavy Seven Barrel Shooter was retired barely a few years into service, and a new more practical designs became the standard. Thus these weapons, despite having their day in the sun, have been rendered into little more than collectables, if there's even any parts left. The two firearms on display in particular have been battle tested and show their history: two barrels bent, a damaged trigger, rust from oxidized black powder. Frankly Rokkit was surprised that the shopkeepers kept the weapon around, considering it'll barely function in it's current state. But Rokkit should be thankful they didn't toss it before the orc could buy it. He brought both rifles for 500 coins, along with an assortment of conventional weapon parts and pieces that would be harder for Rokkit to make on the go, for a total of 1200 coin spent.

The second shop he needed to go to was a weirder one, at least for him. But he needed to go to a jewelry store. He needed to buy some gemstones to fuel some of his more complex magic contraptions, and as there wasn't a dedicated magic store in town that Rokkit knew of. However he also knew it was going to be a bit of a challenge here. Not because he doubted this shop would have what he needed, but simply because he vaguely knew the owners. Ran by a husband and wife who Rokkit had learned has a less than positive opinion on certain races, such as orcs, and while they wouldn't obviously mention it Rokkit knew what they are wary of him when both their sons and daughters suddenly come to "help" watch the shop. But as long as they didn't cause him trouble, he wouldn't cause them trouble.

Fortunately Rokkit's time with the jewelry store went without much issue. Unfortunately, they didn't have what he was looking for. Sure enough when he arrived, the sons and daughters arrived and spoke to Rokkit in lieu of the elderly parents. Unlike the parents the children were more tolerant and willing to do business with Rokkit. He made his intentions clear: he simply wanted the gemstones, not the gold and silver attached to them. Unfortunately the store mostly dealt in gold and silver and any gemstones on them were not sold separately. Rokkit wasn't sure if this was true or if they were simply lying to him to get rid of him. He's loath to say more than needed, but he needed these gemstones and he honestly didn't know where else to find them. Fortunately, one of the sons helped Rokkit out.

Apparently there is a magic shop in Forsaken, though unsurprisingly, it caters more to the advanced magic users. Rokkit was surprised that he's only now just heard of it, but then again he's mostly only dealt with guns and smithing. It never occurred to him how many magic users this town had. Rokkit left to head to this shop, which was located in a more refined part of town. Rokkit stuck out like sword wound here. People actually looked like wizards here, whereas Rokkit looked like a barbarian from the mountains. Which... He kind of was. He tried not to think about it as he entered the market. Somehow he felt a bit comfortable here as various merchants and traders trying to hawk their wares to various customers competing to get the best deals. Reminded him of home. So getting into the mindset, he set out to find those gemstones.

What Rokkit quickly learned is that the stones he's looking for are plentiful here in the market, but also in high demand. People far richer than Rokkit buy them up in bulk, leaving only a few merchants who'll sell individual stones that are then brought up by faster and more cunning people. Rokkit needed to be just as fast and keep his eyes sharp to find them. Fortunately he managed to find two gemstones of good quality, buying them for 100 gold each. He could've gotten them for cheaper if he was willing to haggle, but when he tried to do that on the first stone he found someone else brought it out from underneath him. So he figured he'd do the same, buying a ruby and an onyx.

There was one more stop he had to make. This one was to the metal yard. While the gunsmiths created delicate parts that were needed for guns, for Rokkit's armor he simply needed raw materials. However mere steel wasn't going to be enough. The metal yard had various minerals he would need to create more advanced armor. Not just metals that were functionally harder, but also served different purposes. Copper to conduct energy, corundum for abrasives, and if possible, Tungsten. Possibly the hardest metal that Rokkit can work with, short of adamantine. He's tried to work adamantine before but it's requires such heat that Rokkit needed a magic forge to work it, which he never found. Here Rokkit brought 2000 gold worth of assorted metal ingots. More than enough to quite possibly create the ultimate armor, assuming he figures out how that looks like. Not to mention the more magical aspects of his armor would need gemstones and more esoteric materials, but at least this way he has the base materials accounted for.

He had the metal delivered to Garrick's estate, where Rokkit could have it loaded onto the wagon. The day was winding down, but there was one final location. Possibly the only place that Rokkit has "fun" in Forsaken. Counting out his coins again the orc headed to a seedy red light district. It should come to no surprise that a place like Forsaken sold all sorts of vices, and Rokkit was a mere mortal. However Rokkit's final destination was not a brothel. It was also a coffee shop. Now that was rarer than meteor iron. Rokkit has learned to love the taste of coffee during his time as a mercenary. Sure, ale and beer was usually the drink of choice for a soldier of fortune, but Rokkit has made a living off of coffee and if he had to choose between a bag of coffee beans and his weight in gold, he'd go for the beans every time.

The location he visited was called the Exotic Taste. Coffee wasn't the only thing sold there, they sold different sort of foreign and local narcotics. This was the place Rokkit usually got his tobacco from, Winterstem. A lovely little cultivar with multiple uses, from clothing, medicine, and other industries. But what it's most known for is it's ability as a muscle relaxant and painkiller. Especially when rolled up into some paper and smoked like a cigar. Between a roll of Winterstem and a cup of strong coffee, Rokkit would have a tough choice of vice. But with all this extra money in his pocket, he can afford to indulge in both. Compared to the whore houses it's stuck between, the coffee shop was so small it could've been mistaken as a storage closet. Inside the shop was only a few tables, the bar, and the owner of the establishment. A strange looking human: despite the colorful hair and weirdly pale skin, this man was 100% human.

Rokkit went to take his usual spot by the bar. It was the only spot that fit him comfortably. The owner of the bar, the colorful human man, had his name written on his apron. "Maverick. Iced barely coffee macchiato, double sugar. And a Winterstem fatty. Frosthound brand if you have any." The first thing Rokkit was given was the cigar. A fat brown roll that Rokkit cut with his axe. Holding it in his mouth he raised his fingers to the foot of the cigar and snapped, creating a spark that lit the cigar up. He began to immediately enjoy the relaxing effects of the the winterstem, letting out a plume of smoke. He tried to make a smoke ring but the best he could do was a vaguely round cloud. Soon enough Maverick would have Rokkit's coffee ready, and the orc sipped it like a fine wine. "Angijak..." Rokkit said in an almost dreamy manner.

Another customer came in. A lanky looking dragonborn Rokkit was vaguely familiar with. She was something of a regular here, or at least came here often enough that nearly all of Rokkit's visits here had her present. He was somewhat acquainted with her as they've had a few chats in the past, but not enough to really call each other friends. "Hmph. Never made any friends at all while I was here." Rokkit thought to himself. Indeed, he didn't have too many friends, nor many enemies. It's like he barely really existed here in this gods Forsaken. He glanced over at the dragonborn. He didn't know her name, neither of them really introduced each other. He knows she works at a bank, and she knows he runs a gunsmithy. She comes here to unwind after dealing with customers all day, and Rokkit's just here for the coffee. He wondered if he should strike up a conversation again but decided against it. He was going to be out of this town for a month. Chances are, this woman would forget him by tomorrow. And as relaxing as his cigar was, he wasn't so relaxed that he felt like casually interacting with familiar strangers.

After finishing his drink and smoke, Rokkit paid a hefty sum of 500 gold for some coffee and winterstem, to go. Which was an almost absurd amount: a single cigar was just five silvers, and for the amount Rokkit was buying he might as well be a supplier. But no, everything he was buying was strictly for personal use. Perhaps not the most responsible way of handling his money... But he didn't care. Rokkit wanted to enjoy his new found wealth and felt that coffee and weed was hardly the worse way he could spend it. At least he's not sleeping with the whores next doors, possibly contracting a venereal disease. Despite how tough he was even Rokkit knew not to risk his loins for plastic love.

Gathering up his things Rokkit checked the time. It was about time for dinner. With any luck those workers shipped his metal to the mansion as well, so it'll be ready to be loaded onto the wagon by tonight. Rokkit debated using his money to buy his own horse and wagon, but decided against it. Transportation was already arranged for them, Rokkit will simply commandeer the one given to him instead of spending more money for a personal wagon he couldn't be bothered to take care of anyways. Logistics was always one of those things that Rokkit knew was vital, but he simply lacked the means and reason to be concerned about it. His armor helps his already powerful build carrying most of the things he needs. A wagon was just to carrying bulkier things that Rokkit would already have dismantled for transportation anyways, such as his anvils, smelter, and trough. Still, less weight for Rokkit meant more things he could carry, and he certainly did buy a lot today. No way he could carry those ingots even with his armor on. So it was a good thing he was being given a wagon to use.

It was about five o'clock when Rokkit returned to the mansion. Not much has changed though he didn't see many workers. He could only assume that they've changed shifts, or maybe were working out afield. Didn't matter to him. He took out a cigar and lit it up, heading inside to see what's for dinner. Hopefully it wasn't one of those fancy dinners with small portions. Rokkit was an orc and needed orc sized meals. Letting out a black cloud of winterstem, he glanced around the room. "Now where's the kitchen..."

Defiance was keeping track of the discussions and questions being asked, some good, some not, and he kept a mental running tally that would help with what he had not exactly gone and considered. Supplies and wagons being offered up, they would have assistance from retainers being sent along by their employer, covering a few other bases that had not quite been brought up yet. Overall it seemed like he was in quite the merry band of misfits, and even a handful were not outright decrying his presence or wanting to threaten him right away! It was a pleasant surprise, but not an unwelcome one, even if a certain fiery individual had been giving him the stink eye for some reason. He couldn't imagine why beyond the usual hatred his kind got and would write it off to that for now, unless given a reason to believe otherwise. He could always prove his worth as usual, especially since she had no say in whether he was here or not, so it wasn't like he had to worry as much about being run out of town instead of getting paid because of her in specific. Dinner time was determined as well, and it was time to collect their early payment and busy themselves until it was time to meet for dinner with their employer. Curious, but he wouldn't say no to hospitality.

"Well that was a fun little meeting we had, I think I'm going to see the sights and, well, see what might be interesting floating around, mostly figuratively speaking. I won't say no if anyone wants to tag along." Defiance chuckled, fairly certain no one had any interest in actually accompanying the Tiefling in his wanderings about the manor and grounds, to see what there was to see that wouldn't get him told off by the guards and serving staff. He pocketed the payment he was given, the first part of it at any rate, and proceeded to begin his tour of the manor and grounds themselves. He was more interested in seeing the various artifacts that might be on display, ignoring the various glares and looks he got as he investigated and looked through the displays, enjoying the chance to simply wander around, pester nearby staff with questions on items, and even the odd pickup and, albeit careful, look at certain items and objects.

Time flew by rather quickly while he wandered the grounds and manor and accomplished his own curious wanderings. He never tried to go where he was told not to go, though he did probably have to get told enough times to stop handling stuff so much. Sure, he was the picture of caution and never damaged anything at all, but it was still the principle of the matter of course. Soon enough the butler would finally track him down and, instead of just telling him to stop fiddling with things and investigating the various trinkets and artifacts on display, also mentioned that it was time for dinner. Defiance was mildly surprised at how fast time passed, but it didn't take being told twice to go where he was needed for dinner. He would settle in much like he had been in the morning, almost falling out of the chair and taking the time to simply relax and wait for dinner to start. There was probably more to discuss, formal introductions to be made, so on and so forth, but he was curious to see what everyone would actually share about themselves upfront. They had plenty of time to get to know each other, of course, but it was telling to see what kind of people he was working with based off this meal.

---

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---

“Of course, Miss. Ain’t no bother at all.” He shrugged and smiled. “I’ll warn ya; it’s a cargo wagon so if you’re riding in back best bring a blanket or something.”

“We could maybe fit one or two more depending on how much you’re bringing. Right?”
He aimed the question at Thunder to double check.

“But we can discuss that after you’ve seen the wagon of course. I dont make no deals without letting a customer see what they’re buying.”

The sofa squeaked again when he rose and stretched out his legs.

“If it’s alright with you Mr. Garrick, I’ll head over to the stables now to check in on the live stock and Delilah as well.”
“An’ you’re welcome to join me, Miss. If you wanted to. Same goes for anyone else looking to hitch a ride.”

He too lined up with the others heading out of the office. From the sounds of it most were looking to head out until dinner to make some extra preparations. Rain supposed he should be doing the same thing but having never seen a Hippogriff in the flesh, let alone a Phoenix, he couldn’t wait to see them.

Cash. Gold. Money. Moolah. Dosh. Dough.

It clinked and jingled merrily in the bag Mr. Garrick handed him with little more importance than a parent handing lunch to their child.

Rain picked up the little bag with a thank you and a nod, just as his mother raised him, and was almost startled with how light it was. But be kept his composure until he had left the room before quickly opening the little bag.

Inside he found a surprisingly small amount of actual coinage; a healthy mix of copper, silver, gold, and even (stars above) platinum. But it was the bars which confused him. Walking down the stairs he examined one which looked to be made of gold with a number beneath an insignia.

“A Trade Bar?” Rain commented either to himself or anyone else nearby.

Rain followed the thankfully simple instructions to the stables the butler gave him.

“Out the door and follow the pathway to your right from the driveway. Just follow it around and the stable buildings will be at the end of the pathway on the left.” He had said with much less snark than before. “I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”

The path he followed was much like the one at the front of the estate; made of pink gravel bleached almost white from the sun and lined with pots, shrubbery, and all sorts of lovely delights to the senses. It was wide enough to comfortably fit two wagons. Not too far away he could see the hedgerows and bushes of the garden directly behind the house as he passed by, chopped and shaped into beautiful sculptures and animals and all looking as neat as a pin. But as he moved away from the path the house the path became more and more made of dirt rather than gravel, and whatever pots were still standing were either empty or just filled with barren dirt. Even the grass looked less lush going from a beautiful green to a baked yellow.

Back here it was clear there was no time or care for fancy flowers or well-trimmed grass, so long as everything worked and wasn’t about to break it could look as it liked. That and it was just out of view of the estate and any fancy visitors.
This was much more Rains style.

Rain could smell the stables before he saw them and were just where the Butler had said they’d be. Attached to a field ringed by a wooden field sat a cluster of buildings sitting low, surrounding a courtyard in a frenzy of activity. People ran to-and-fro carrying bags, boxes, and all other manner of supplies at such dizzying speeds it made Rains head spin. And at the centre of it all, atop a stack of create, stood a dwarf shouting at and over the top of people who would run up to him and promptly sent off in another direction. Rain waited for a quiet moment before he approached to introduce himself.

“Aye. Was told you’d turn up. Got your horse and wagon out back, and the Hippogriffs in the barn. Jerem.” A young lad nearby jumped to attention when the dwarf called. “This is the gentleman who owns the old mare, and wants to check over the Hippogriffs. Take care of him and keep him out the way.”

Rain had no idea how the butler got the message over so fast. As Rain was lead away by the lad he swore the dwarf shouted something about a dragon.

The first stop was Delilah. The old girl had been tucked away into a clean and cosy stall. Rain was happy to see she had had her harness removed and hung up on the opposite wall and looked to have been given a very quick groom. The greying mare let Rain say hello and fuss over her for a few minutes before she went back to the tasty bag of oats she’d been given. She gave any visitors a courteous sniff looking for treats and maybe a little pat on the nose.

The second, was the old wagon. It had been parked just outside the stable building Delilah was in, in a quite spot out the way. While Rain had mostly gone to check over his and Thunders belongings, he would also show off the wagon to anyone who had wanted to check it out. It was a small cart, there was no denying it, designed to be pulled by a single horse, but even so it was as wide as three human men and twice as long. It looked sturdy and well used but the worn side panels and mismatched spokes on the high thing wheels showed its age. But even so, the little cart could hold either the party’s belongings or two extra passengers, so four in total with two sitting on the front bench.

Finally. The Hippogriffs. The Barn was the largest building also the busiest. Inside Rain counted all 40 of the Hippogriffs they’d be transporting, along with a few other animals just as rare, each in their own separate paddocks into four lines of ten. A few of the hippogriffs stood in the corridors between the paddocks tied to the posts and Rain could see a few farm hands clearing out a few of the paddocks or tending to the animals inside. He couldn’t see the Pheonix anywhere though so assumed it was being kept somewhere else.

Rain asked to see the Handlers hoping they’d be around for him to ask some questions.
Namely, what do they eat? Any care routines? Temperaments? General plans to move them? And, if he would be allowed to speak to them…

Thunder quickly took the money from Mr Garrick. It was a while ago that the Tabaxi had been this rich and usually it did not last long. For a moment he could only think of what kind of alchemy stuff he could buy with it. He definitely could use another microscope just in case when the first or second one would break down. Or more supplies to make stuff go boom. That would be a great investment too. Sure, spending money on alchemy supplies would not be a problem. Thunder could just take on a new job on his way home to compensate for the expenses. That would totally work out!

Tabaxi's train of thought got rudely interrupted by his younger brother. Apparently Rain was giving rides away for free. That boy would give away everything and more the moment a girl would talk to him. Such a virgin. Not to mention that the elf seemed to be trouble. Or at least that was the hunch he got from her interactions with the Genasi.

Thunder smiled when his brother mentioned the word ‘buying’. Of Course he did not mean it that way but Thunder sure would! “Exactly, buying is what you would miss. Rides don’t come for free. More weight means that the horse would have to work harder, so she requires more fodder. Not to mention the extra wear and maintenance on the cart. Also my brother doesn’t work for free. When we add up all these costs, 300 gold coins seems like a fair price for a 30 day trip, don’t you think?”

The older Tabaxi didn’t really expect her to agree with that price. The elf looked like someone who would talk her way out of it, or at least haggle about the price. Still, it would be good if they got some form of money out of it. Nitroglycerin doesn’t come cheap and everybody knows that nitroglycerin makes the best explosions. And you never know when you need a good old bang.

Thunder turned towards his younger brother. “You just go look at the animals, I’ll wrap up the details with Valthane? Valenthe or whatever her name is about the costs of traveling in our wagen. She was just given a big bag of coin bro, she ain’t travelin for free.”

"You drive a hard bargain Mr. Thunder," Val said as a smile formed on her lips. Few things brought the elven woman as much pleasure as money, but money was of no value to her if it didn't make her life more comfortable or exciting.

"Three hundred is no small sum of money, however, what price can one truly put on comforts, however small they might at first seem?" Val continuing, pausing to adjust the necklace that dangled off her neck and playing idly with the brilliant sapphire affixed to the chain as she appeared to think on the matter, "Let us sweeten the deal as they say, I will pay you 500 gold for thirty days of transportation and cooking. I assure you I am a light eater, but my talents lie in another directions than cooking and a warm meal at the end of a long day does wonders for my magic."

The response of the elf caught the tabaxi by surprise. Thunder had expected her to bargain for less or even downright walk away. However she offered more in exchange for them cooking. For a moment he just stood there flabbergasted. 200 gold extra was certainly a fair reward for something that had to be done anyway.

"Cooking? As in food, right? Not methylamphetamine, I mean potions of speed or potions in general, right? 200 gold sounds reasonable for food. Just don’t expect any fancy stuff to miss. We’re on the road afterall."

"Wonderful," Val said, positively purring. "Now if you will excuse me, Mr. Thunder, I have some final business to attend to before we depart."

---

A Short Time Later

Val had been losing. She had been losing for the better part of two hours. Losing was inevitable, unavoidable really, at least when one gambled for long enough, but Val still hated losing all the same. Staring at the paltry number of coins arrayed in front of her, Val frowned, blowing a stray hair out of her face with an irritated puff. She was running out of time. And worse still she was running out money. The 5,000 gold coins that Garrick had given her were now a paltry 5,00 gold coins.

The Golden Crown tavern, was anything but a royal tavern, and Val knew that if she ran out of money she was in serious trouble. Unfortunately, she was certain, quite certain that this time, Cinder was far away. Tobacco smoke surrounded her as she tried to think her way out of her latest scrap of trouble. The sounds of drunken laughter distracted her. The clink of glasses. The occasional crash of a bottle. And loud angry shouting.

Val forced a sudden smile on her face, "My friends, I am convinced that it is time for us to make this a truly interesting game."

"Ha, this game isn't interesting enough for you, elf?" the rough looking human sitting across from her asked with a sneer. The shotgun idly resting in his lap was a reminder of the sort of company that Val had found herself in.

"What do you have in mind, Miss Valanthe?" the half-elf woman sitting next to her politely interjected. Val didn't remember her name, it wasn't important, but she liked the woman's suit. It was different, very modern.

"Why, we must raise the stakes of our gambling of course," Val chirped happily.

"Beg your pardon, Miss Valanthe," the well-dressed half-elf woman said, somewhat, but not completely apologetically. Val knew a real villain when she saw one. It was a poor luck of the draw for the others that she was a far superior villain when it came to gambling.

"5,000 gold coins."

"5,000 gold coins," the final player, a young gnome dressed in the manner of a traveling salesman repeated with a low whistle.

"Generously, you have perhaps, 500 gold coins remaining," the half-elf said with another half-hearted smile.

"In coin, perhaps," Val began, placing the gold and sapphire necklace onto the table. "However, this amulet is worth far more. I couldn't bear to put a price on a family heirloom like this, but I would expect you could get close to 10,000 gold coins for it, were you to find the right buyer, of course."

"There might be other ways for you to pay off any of your debts, elf," the rough human jeered, cruelty unhidden in his dark eyes.

"Mr. Thompson," Val said, anger apparent in all of her being. "This once, just this once, I will allow your brutish, disgusting statement to go unpunished. However, speak to me like that again, and I will bury you beneath such an unholy tornado of hellfire that there won't even be enough ashes left for them to bury."

A spark of flame danced in her hand as she spoke, rising rapidly towards the ceiling as Val channeled more magic into her illusion.

Eyes wide in panic, the gnome punched the shoulder of the rough looking human, "Miss Valanthe! Please, I beg you remain calm! Earl was merely joking. In his crude fashion. He meant no harm! Did you, Earl?"

"Of course not," Earl replied, muttering a low curse, his hand resting on his shotgun. "A man can't even make a joke anymore without some upstart wizard threatening to burn him alive."

"All in," Val said, shoving her necklace and all of her gold coins into the middle of the table. The other players eyed her with a mixture of emotions. The brutish human seemed to be laughing at her. The half-elf woman had a nervous smile plastered on her features. The young gnome had a foolish, excited grin as he shuffled the cards and handed them out. All pushed the gold coins and trinkets they had left into the center of the table.

Waiting patiently, Val resisted the urge to tear her cards off the table. Her hand had already been dealt. Her fate was set. Destiny awaited and there was no way to escape it. She felt calm. She felt ready. She felt ready to win more money. She watched the other players eagerly, a smile on her face, almost seeming to suggest she knew something that they did not.

"Four of a kind!" The half-elf woman said gleefully, slapping her cards onto the table and revealing four Queens.

"U- Um...three of kind," the gnome said, choking as he showed three nines, a four, and a two. Val could tell he had never lost that much money before. Risk was unavoidable in gambling and she considered that perhaps he had learned a useful lesson.

"Straight," the brute of a human said angrily, practically throwing his hand onto the table. Val was pleased to see him lose. She hated him already.

All three pairs of eyes turned towards her as Val softly smiled. She nodded politely at each of the other players, before she placed her cards face up on the table.

Val gets lucky.

"Straight flush," Val said as the half-elf let out a loud gasp.

"The 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 of Spades, Val said gesturing dramatically over her cards.

"Fuck," the half-elf muttered and Val could finally see cracks forming in her performance.

"Well, my friends, it has been a true pleasure, but I am afraid I have a dinner to attend," Val said, breaking the silence that had overcome her fellow gamblers.

Laughing cheerfully as she rose, Val shoved the 10,000 gold coins and some change into a thick coin purse. Walking with quick strides she stepped out of the tavern and hailed a nearby carriage before the other players could notice the illusions that she had woven over the card table.

---

[i]Even Later[i]

Arriving back at the Garrick estate, Val greeted Garrick's butler with a fresh smile.

"Why Haldir, how wonderful to see you again."

"You as well, Miss Valanthe. I take it your business in the township went well?"

"Oh, exceedingly so, Haldir, I cannot express my satisfaction with how matters unfolded."

"I would expect no less for a wizard as talent and...beautiful as you Miss Valanthe."

"You are too kind, Haldir," Val said with an overly theatrical laughter, sweetened beyond all reproach. Taking hold of the half-elf's arm she pointed towards the mansion. "Now Haldir, if you please, escort me to the dinning room, I am positively famished, and I suspect this will be the last meal of note that I shall enjoy for quite some time."