They had all met him in different circumstances but all of them were drawn to this man and his mission. Ever Watchful, he had interpreted the signs and feared that something terrible was happening. Each one of his newfound comrades had their own motivations but what united them now was their purpose. He had told them to meet at a village, in a particular inn, on a specific day.

Meanwhile, the Watchful Man had one last errand to make, one last person to seek out – the first clue, the catalyst of the adventure. A young man, a farmhand, who had left his home after a terrible attack. A man who carried a blade of un-human make...

It is no coincidence that this young man had decided to rest at the very inn the Watchful Man had directed all his other companions towards. In a village southeast of Woodhaven, a town called Merryspring, this adventure could start in earnest...

---

The inn was called the Galvanizing Spirit. Not entirely inappropriately named – the innkeeper boasted to serve the strongest drinks in all of Brackenhorst. It was bustling with activity at this hour, the sun low to the horizon. Plenty of weary farmers and other townsfolk eager for a drink to end the day on a positive note.

Thaddeus approached the inn and the folks on the street made way for him, that striking man, his eyes piercing and vivid with purpose. They knew he was up to something. Thaddeus the Watchful was always up to something but this time it was important. He swung open the doors to the inn and stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to pierce the gloom. Lots of heads turned from their drinks momentarily and a few eyes widened as they recognized the ranger, but people knew better than to ask questions. Thaddeus inspected the crowd, his eyes flitting from people's faces to their hips, looking for that young, strong man with the exotic sword he had been told about...

Ah, there he was. Thaddeus put on his most welcoming smile and sat down on the opposite side of the table Edward was sitting at, eating a hearty meal. “Edward, isn't it? Of Woodhaven? I've heard about you and what happened to you. My name is Thaddeus,” he said, introducing himself. “I'm assembling a crew to investigate the rumors of the return of the orcs. If what I hear is true, then you've come face to face with them yourself and the rumors aren't merely rumors anymore.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pointed to the blade at Edward's hip. “Can I see that?” he asked, his smile widening. “If that blade is what I think it is, it will certainly prove your story true. You can help me, you know,” he added in a more serious tone.

Thaddeus looked around the inn again. Nobody else was here yet. Well, to be fair, he had told them to meet him at this inn at sundown and it wasn't quite that late yet. He wondered when they would arrive...

Thoraniel Nee-Theranaziel Tormodsdóttir looked in on the town from the edges of the trees. She did not like towns. Too many people. Not enough cover for her. But she had no choice. She had to go in. She unrolled her cloak, throwing it over her small pack, raising the deep hood over her head, drawing the cloak close. The moment she passed through the town gate, a simple construct of wooden planks and beams, it started to rain. That helped her cover, was all she thought about it. Rain had never harmed anyone. Never would.

She kept her face hidden, searching for the inn she had been told to come to. She didn't like inns. They reminded her too much of home. She did not like those thoughts. She hated home. The gallows waiting for her back home fueled that hate. Kept it fresh. When she came to a corner, she saw that there was a message of some sort posted on the wall. "Lovely..." she murmured. "A wanted poster." Looking about, she saw that she was alone right then and there. She rapidly drew her dagger, cut the hide down, then pulled out the iron nails that had held it in, leaving no trace. She rolled the hide up, then stuffed it into her pack. It would not do for anyone to recognize her.

After some five minutes more search, she found the inn, a seedy place with a sign of worn wood, painted with a strange, gray blot. She couldn't read the text below it, but it had to be right. Only reason she'd recognized the wanted poster is that another had shown one to her before, and she recognized the sketch of her face in the middle. That same guy, a fellow brigand, had also taught her to read her own name. Thoraniel wasn't sure she wanted to know how to read more than that.

Keeping her hood up, she entered the inn, searching for Thaddeus, eventually seeing him sitting at a table with another she did not recognize. She did not like strangers. Too risky. Might give her up. Nonetheless, she had to. There was no need to like it, though.

Celine entered the town on a black steed, one deemed too wild and uncontrollable for a woman, yet it trotting through the gates with an almost eerie obedience. The sky was crying and she wore a hood to shield herself from its tears. The town of Merryspring was not much different than any of the other farming communities, there was nothing there that would hold the interest of a traveler. Except maybe their inn, the Galvanizing Spirit. There was much trade to be found in an inn such as that. Often unsavory deals were being made, and shady characters sold their whispered secrets. She was no stranger to this way of business. In times of peace, the wounded and sick were few and far between. As contradicting as it might appear, she made a living of off them.

After leaving her horse at the stables she made her way to the inn. They had agreed to meet here, The Watchful Man along with the others. She pushed one of the doors open and went inside. It was warm and dry and it smelled of drink. The young woman lowered her hood and let her gaze wander around the inn, before deciding to sit at the bar. She had already recognized Thaddeus and he was speaking to a young man to whom she didn't pay much attention. She was in no rush to speak to him. Instead she turned to the man behind the bar offering him her most pleasant smile. When she actually bothered to wipe the jaded look from her face, a charming smile had quite the effect. Well on most men it did.

"I'd like a small meal for one and a glass of pure apple cider" She had never taken a liking to drink and had no desire to start now. After a couple of minutes her meal was handed to her. It was a spiced soup though lacked any hints of true spices. Enjoying, or well enjoying might not be the right word a few spoonfuls of her soup her pale eyes found a hooded figure. From the stature she guessed it was a woman but it could easily be a teen boy. She must have entered at roughly the same time though Celine hadn't noticed her standing there until just now. She would keep an eye on her. Many shady people came to her croft and she could pick them out of a crowd like a piece of gold among silver.

"Come on Rook, I have a family to feed..."

"And feed them you shall. Just not with this coin, friend." Rook kept his smile neutral and disarming as he slipped a few small silver coins into his moneypouch. "Hell, if I'd known you were feeding that sweet daughter of yours lumps of silver, Id have come sooner."

The pudgy, weather-worn man frowned, confused. "No, I use the coin to bu-"

"I know what you use coin for, good man." His grin widened to something that could only be described as cocksure. "If there's anything I know well, its that. Now, Matthis my good citizen, are you going to bail on me early, or are we going to go another round?"

The back of the Galvanizing Spirit was a raucous affair, at least, as raucous as a small place like Merryspring could get. Men and women alike sat around sturdy oaken tables and benches, sloshing amber and dark ales from heavy mugs and recalling the events of the day. Rook had positioned himself near the hearth early in the evening, and had since been handily redistributing the town's wealth in his favor. Despite losing good coin, no resident could accuse the man of cheating - part of his bombastic dice-rolling ritual included handing them to the would-be player for this very purpose, to examine as closely as could be desired. It didnt mean that he was universally loved, however; some of the more superstitious townsfolk took the man's good luck as an ill omen - either he was something devilish given flesh, or the gods were surely ready to ruin him on a moment's notice.

Matthis sighed and sized Rook up. After a moment he puffed his chest out, determined. "Alright Rook, one more. Five silvers on evens."

Rook's eyes lit up as he began to twist and maneuver two small, tan dice between his fingers. To anyone who asked, they were always carved of something different - today it was ogre's teeth, some days its dragonbone, still others the dice are simply marble. In reality, Rook had no idea what they were made out of, and like anything else in his life, the mystery just served his wild stories far better than a real explanation ever could.

"And we have fiiiiive silvers on evens! Now as always, here are the dice...." Rook's smile could split his skull if he didnt watch it.

"Just roll them."

Producing a small wooden cup with his other hand, he showed the dice around the crowd one last time before throwing them in the cup, placing his hand over the opening, and shaking. "Evens, evens for this poor broke sod, eeeeveeeeensss...." He shut his eyes in mock prayer. "Lady luck be kind!" He announced loudly, removing his hand and pouring the dice across the table. For a brief moment, the noise coming from Rook's end of the inn hushed as most spectators held their breath. "...Maybe you should stick to farming, friend."

Odds.

The outcry was muffled somewhat by the sound of someone striding into the inn, and a brief glance told Rook that his fun was over. As it was, he had been traveling with Thaddeus, but he decided he would be more useful riding ahead of the man and ingratiating himself with the locals; peasants in these communities could be somewhat xenophobic, and he didnt reckon that they would know too much about the Watchful. Walking around and using fancy titles and gods-given authority is nice and all, but it hardly inspires the ignorant to your cause.

"Lost! Again! Nanette is going to kill me..." Matthis seemed to sink into his drink as the rest laughed it off or eyed Rook with a measure of fear and suspicion.

"The gods are fickle, my man. One day these dice will turn against me, and then its game over. However today...." And without another word, he scooped his newest 'earnings' into his money pouch, adjusted his bright scarlet headscarf, and sauntered over to the other side of the inn, where he could pull up a chair and join Thaddeus.

Gehrhart rode along the weather beaten rode to the small town of Merryspring atop the pony he had bought in the settlement at the foot of the Tall Mountains, the rain fell about him and soaked the Dwarf thoroughly and making his knee ache. I'll never get used to this kinda stuff, he pondered, water falling from the sky why the young'uns would think I lost my mind. As the Dwarf was lost in thought the pony gave him a baleful look. "What're you on about then?" he asked it "We'll be in town soon enough, and then the both of us can get out of this blasted rain."

Soon enough the dwarf arrived at the gate of Merryspring and dismounted his pony. The Dwarf made an almost comical sight leading the horse to the stables but managed to get his pony lodging. "Ehh boy" he called to the young stable boy "Get her some feed will you, and nice place for tonight."

"Yes Sir!, Right away Sir" the young wide eyed boy said tentatively taking the reins from Gehrhart's hands and leading the pony into the stables. Gehrhart wondered if the child had even seen a Dwarf before then and couldn't help but crack a smile at the thought of the child telling an exaggerated tale to his friends later that day.

"Right" Gehrhart said to no one in particular as he straightened his armor, "To the task at hand," and with purpose he strode across the muddy street to the Galvanizing Spirit and stepped into the inn. What a sorry bunch of stones, he thought, the inn was nothing like a Dwarven Alehouse it was dim and dank with the patrons sitting in clusters separated and eyeing everyone else with a mix of paranoia and malice. Gehrhart found his hand easing towards Alda but then he saw a familiar face near the back sitting with some new ones and he relaxed slightly. His mind went back to the time when he had first met the Watchful and then to when he had been offered his chance to join the man on his quest.

"You desire to see the world, yes?" The Watchful had asked, a loaded question as always "I am in need of someone of your skill and experience in a party i'm putting together for an investigation" He had continued.

"What do you say old friend one last campaign before your forge dies out?" And Gehrhart had agreed, and The Order had wished him well gifted him a good shield and sent him on his way.

I've still got an ember or two left, the old warrior thought as he maneuvered through the crowd towards the table and the beginning of something he expected to be very interesting.

((Hope you don't mind but I'm going with the idea that gold coins are rarer and worth more))

Wolmak arrived shortly after Gehrhart, he was more or less working on his seniors whim. He arrived after due to the heavy backpack he had, the size of it removed any possibility of him being an adolescent human which his height indicated. In it he had all the food and camping gear for the long Journey from the Mountains. It would be better if such a long Journey didn't include rain, he hated the rain. There was no rain under the mountain, the cold to. He didn't like that either, though he used to hate the heat when his punishment had begun he had grown used to it. He moved his pony to the stable, placing two gold coins on the stablehands desk, before pointing at Gehrharts pony. "I'm paying for that one too, there's a good lad." He walked out, leaving his pack with the horse but keeping his pocket full of coin and his hammer on his back. "If I find anything in that pack missing, your head will be on the block boy."

He walked into the tavern, lowering his hood and walking straight up to the bar. "I'll have two jugs of your darkest ale.""That'll be three coins." Wolmak took out a gold piece, worth more than the average coin used in such places and placed it on the bar before picking up the two jugs. Navigating through the crowd he placed the jug on the table on front of Gerhart. "I'll be keeping an eye of you need me, Sir." He moved his way to the side of the room and took another drink. HE was already receiving glances, two dwarves in one day was obviously a bit of an oddity, some of the looks were probably to check that he wasn't an underage boy sneaking into the tavern for a couple of drinks.

He eyed the game of dice being played as it came to an end, pity. He could of made it substantially more interesting. He doubted anyone in this tavern could rival the Wealth the two dwarves brought in and especially not the wealth they possessed back in their respective mountains, however Dwarves were known to be rich. Which is why he was still armed against anyone who felt their fingers were light enough to steal from a dwarve. He didn't even know why he was here, and that irritated him. He was merely told to accompany Sir Gehrhart into the lands of men from the Master of the Mountain, and he dared not to ask the Master why.

He cast his glance to another table, and caught a look at a man with... strange green eyes. There was something about him he would have to be wary off.

Thaddeus didn't reply immediately. He took the sword from Edward's hands and moved the cloth to take a peak at the blade. He inhaled sharply -- this was orcish make, no doubt about it. It had been years since Thaddeus had seen a sword like this. He looked Edward in the eyes, seizing the boy up. He looked afraid and wary but there was a resilience to him. No surprises there. Anyone who manages to part an orc from his scimitar must be of tougher stock.

"For starters, you can help me by showing me where you got this sword," he said as he handed the blade back. He nodded to Rook as the gambler joined their table. "This is Edward," he explained. "He's why we're here." Thaddeus hadn't told Rook why they were coming to Merryspring beforehand, as was typical of the Watchful. Thaddeus took another look around the inn and saw that more of the others had arrived. Excellent. He would gather them all soon.

He turned back to Edward. "I know you're probably hesitant to return to Woodhaven, but I ask that you show me and my associates where the orcs came from. I've been looking for a solid clue to their presence for weeks now. This sword of yours," he nodded at it again, "is the first such thing I've encountered. Will you help us?"

Entering the town with a deer slung over his shoulder, Ghas gave a friendly nod to the guard at the gate. Rarely had he seen the guard quetion soemone bringing food to his village. Ghas quickly found the inn he was looking for: The Galvinizing Spirit. The kind of inn he liked. You could immerse yourself in the company of others, but also choose to stay outside of it. These inns were a home to all kinds of personalities.

After entering the inn Ghas quickly spotted Thaddeus talking with two others sitting at his table. Ghas decided to get everyone another drink before sitting down himself. Walking up to the bar, he unceremoniously dropped his deer on the counter. With a disapproving stare, the innkeeper came up to him. "So whaddya want, dwarf?" he asked gruffly. "I'd like to trade, good sir" responded Ghas. "For a round of drinks for me and my friends" he continued. The innkeeper gave the deer a rough inspection, checking for injuries which might lower the quality of the meat. None were to be found.

"Hmpf. This is good meat you got here. Your drinks are on their way." Replied the innkeeper. Ghas, pleased that his bear trap had performed so well, nodded and waved to Thaddeus' table: "I'll be over there, good man." With a final nod, the innkeeper retreated. Ghas walked up to to Thaddeus and gave him a hearty slap on the back. "Well met my friend! Care to introduce me to your friends?"

Rain is equality. Water falls from the sky lightly and obscures vision or quick, too hard to passively allow into one's eye. Hoods raised and heads lowered. Some looked toward the feet more, but all turned their gazes downward. Truer here than in the southern lands where hands accompanied lords to cover them at the chance of tumultuous weather. Shi'mon liked the village for this truth. Guards waved him passed without a second glance, either too confident or simply trusting. He fell in amongst others seeking shelter from the rain. Several made their way toward a sturdy building made of barrel-like lumber. Blackened iron lined the door, glistening as Shi'mon followed the others and approached. A few ahead of him swung open the doors and proclaimed, "Your strongest drink, barkeep! Gods are with me tonight, look at them ladies..."

Lowering his hood along with the men, Shi'mon slipped behind them. He watched the rowdy lot approach the bar as a man apparently none too happy sat down several glasses. The bartender glanced back to a woman both younger and less aware of the men and snapped. "Drunkards your type, missy? I think not." Lips pursed, the man looked back to the bar and observed Shi'mon. Stepping aback, he grunted, "You with those lot?" Shi'mon paid the men a hard look. The loudest caught a curvy waitress and pulled her onto his lap.

Did his impression in Merryspring mean much? Shi'mon sighed, "... Yes."

The bartender nodded and silently poured the drink. When the glass slid forward, he looked at Shi'mon strangely. Swallowing the building shame in his gut, the elf passed by the boisterous lot then paused. He stood beside one, close enough to seem related, but not so much they stared. Their quickly emptying tankards only helped.

Among a group Shi'mon felt free to observe. Men and women collected in around tables and at the bar mostly in groups. Individuals neared others, like he had, but seemingly for intimacy rather than safety. He brought his glass to his lips and sipped his drink before spotting the herald of this journey. Shi'mon tightened his lips and audibly exhaled. The men gawked at him, one still cupping a waitress's breast. Instinctively, the elf raised his cup summoned a hearty grunt. Three more followed, tankards held high with a cheer. Feigning a smile, Shi'mon observed the Watcher. Watching the Watcher. Cute. The man haggard man, accustomed to adventure according to his garb, spoke with a couple others. A young man with some object the Watcher continuously glanced and two shorter, armoured men -- dwarves? Enjoy the rain-- surrounded him. Shi'mon remained a while longer until the waitress started to moan and the seedy collected about.

The elf approached the table with his head lowered. A heart slam, like falling flesh called out. Shi'mon placed a hand on the hilt of his short-sword at his hip and turned. Calm settled over him when he spotted the dwarf at the bar. By the looks of the deer, a hunter, and by the looks of the bartender, a welcomed trade. After a second glance he decided the dwarf must be a skilled hunter and his opinion of the inn raised markedly.

Finally, Shi'mon walked up toward the table behind the young man. The younger placed a hand on a bundle and looked backward, perhaps weary. The taller of the dwarves sized him up. Apparently pleasant company, Shi'mon decided, and apparently a job better kept secret.

"An... interesting locale. Is my company still welcomed, sir?" Shi'mon asked, brow arched as he gestured to an empty chair.

She had fallen behind. An easy enough task if one slowed their step enough for the change in pace to be subtle. At first it had not been an intentional lag, but then she had remembered that the reason Thaddeus was striding with such determination into the town was because there was another whom he wished to recruit before the journey began in earnest, and he knew exactly where to find the book because Rook had travelled ahead.

Ever since they had met, Lila had not liked Rook. She did not like the way he spoke or leered or drank or played the games that lost other foolish people money. She had especially not liked travelling with him. Thaddeus she did not mind because of his idealised heroic manner, he was always looking forward and thinking of a bright and shining future. Rook was always looking sideways for the next person who would loose money to him.

Lila knew that each and every one of those people was a fool for gambling in the first place, but she did not have to spend any time with them.

The Tavern that Thaddeus had gone ahead to wait inside was just ahead of her, and as she walked Lila took note of each and every person who glanced at her as she passed them. None of them looked like the kind of people who would have been enlisted, and when she stepped inside the smoky gloom she saw that the reason for this was because they were already gathering around Thaddeus and a boy who looked slightly shell shocked at one of the tables.

A table that was becoming more and more crowded.

She grabbed the back of a chair as she passed it, scraping it along the floor until it was at a place where she could swing it to face the table and sit down, crossing one leg over the other.

“Thaddeus,” she said in the next spell of silence, slightly sourly despite herself, and then curtly to the only other face that she recognised. “Rook.”

Mirion had arrived at the Galvanizing Spirit around the time other adventurers. There were many humans in the inn, though some he could tell were going to be part of this party he were to join. Then there were elves. None from his house, which relieved him only slightly. The honor to have from such a quest would be squandered were he to share it with anyone else when he returned home. This was his own personal test in his mind. A quest for honor, a quest for a sense of purpose. Something that would make him find his own manhood within life. And then, as it seemed a fowl stench had just entered his nostrils he spotted dwarves. Wretched, short and fat, bearded things that were as no good as the boars man took in as food, nay worse than that. Mirion took care to avoid any dwarf and has a seat at the bar.

"I'd like one mug of miruvor." The barkeep looked at him as if he were insane. Mirion then shook his head, turning around in his seat and going through his pack. Pulling out a bottle of liquid he took a small sip, then recapped it and slipped it back into the bag. Even a small sip of murivor could help with any sorts of conversation that was unnecessary. Unless it were with dwarf. He'd need a much bigger sip to even stand being around one for an extended amount of time. His eyes searched the area, investigating the curious figures all around him. In the corner was a man, rugged, and seemed to be a ranger. His eyes, as green as the leaves on the trees of Sollis. Near him was a boy, who seemed very young. As well as dwarves, and so it seemed elves. There was a figure that stood out, someone that hid their face, a cloak up and head down. It was very interesting to see this, especially in a female around a town.

Mirion stood, and approached the table where the ranger was sitting. As soon as conversation between him and the boy stopped, he'd speak. When the boy stopped, Mirion spoke up. "I am Mirion of House Elurín. I'm to take it you are the one that has set up to form some sort of venturing party to fight orcs, Thaddeus if I've heard talk right, correct? I've volunteered myself to join with you, if you're to have me." His eyes examined the other participants, then when the fell upon a dwarf he let a look of disgust fall across his face before his eyes returned to Thaddeus. His arm outstretched to shake the mans hand.

Rook listened to the exchange between Thaddeus and Edward without a word, idly rolling his dice between his fingers and sipping on a dwindling flagon of mead. He raised an eyebrow at the mention of Woodhaven. "Woodhaven, eh? I wonder if Lugo is still running that brewery. From the look on the kid's face, he probably isnt. I hope I didn't gamble my way into a bloodbath..."

He noticed others began to crowd around, pulling up chairs and sitting in with the three; Rook suspected they weren't just curious locals, either. Dwarves, elves, other companions that were mentioned by Thaddeus, but never properly introduced or even described. That was when Lila showed up; her disgust of Rook was an almost palpable feeling - as much as it amused him - and her curt, loveless greeting did nothing to shake the image.

"Hey there honeybomb, how was the ride? You should've gone on ahead with me, I showed the innkeep this coin trick right, made a silver disappear and pulled a gold from his ear, absolutely blew his mind Ive been sleeping on the softest bed since. I mean, it was his bed but, hey, he offered." He delivered the run-down of his arrival at a rapid-fire pace, laughing and throwing back the rest of his mead in one gulp before leaning in, his smile turning devilish. "You know, it got lonely at night, all that empty bed-space and whatnot..."

Her glare was venomous, but he quickly turned to the rest and opened his arms wide. "Welcome, welcome, to the lovely little bed of sin and failed ambition that is Merryspring. Okay no, its not actually that bad, things are quaint, people are nice. Not that we'll be here long, that is...." He turned to Thaddeus. "So, chief, what's the word? Ive been able to snag coin but very little info from the yokel-locals...not that I know what Im even looking for to begin with."

"This is Edward," Thaddeus explained. "He's why we're here."

Rook's grin faded a bit, and he set his jaw slightly as if in thought. "Ah." He noted the scimitar with a raised eyebrow. "Well, that aint human-made, no sir. And I dont think a single one of our bearded or pointy-eared friends here," he nodded to those gathered, "would be caught dead with a blade like that. Now, Im not a man to go back on my word, and I told you Id follow you...but Im gonna start needing some answers." He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, his face stony and neutral. He never once stopped passing the dice between his fingers. "Where are we going, what are we doing, and will the maidens weep with desire when they hear my name after our inevitable glorious victory?" Or horrifying massacre...some here look greener than the weed back home...

Kaell made his way into Merryspring, still raining like the last couple of days. A bit of rain didnt do any harm, he just hoped his herbs didnt get wet. Altough Maith loved the rain, maybe because he didnt have to smell the stench as much.

On his search to the inn he found a small boy lying on the ground, not older than maybe 10 years. He saw fear in the eyes of the young lad, asking what was wrong he already saw it. He had seen it before in the eyes of his dear mother. Kaell muttered "Not here too" Although he hadnt seen many people with this illness. It was way to close too him. And this only meant he was travelling towards the origin. Kaell said "Here, grab something to eat while you can" while handing hime some coins. Whillst Kaell gave him a grim look.

Thaddeus was right. He made the right decision to come. I might find my answers if i travel together.

The boy at the horse stables looked like he had seen the love of his life, or made a fortune. He looked up hastily and gave me a questioning look when i said to grab some meat for my dog Maith, and to treat him good. While i gave him a couple of coins. Bringing a dog to a stable must been a first for the boy.

Kaell entered the tavern, making way to the bar. "Give me some apple cider" said Kaell while flicking a coin towards the good man. When he turned around with his cider he saw a sight you won't see often. A couple of dwarves, elves and people of the fields together. Having never met a Dwarf or Elf. This was a sight to behold. In the middle of them he saw the man he was looking for, Thaddeus. Kaell walked towards the man with a striking appearance, and greeted him with a smile. Its been a long time.

"I am Kaell, a man of the lands. And I am honered to have this company" He said with a firm voice.

Thoraniel kept to the background. There were too many people around. She did not like many people around her. Especially not dwarves. Their presence made her elven blood boil. She began subtly scanning the room, sorting escape routes by quality in her head. There were too few exits. She did not like lacking many of those. What if someone had recognized her? She did not like being recognized. No she did not.

Some of the people were discussing an ugly sword, but she could not quite pick up exactly what was so special about it. She hadn't seen anything like it before, decided then and there she did not want to either. It was ugly. Disgusting. Ill-made.

When she heard one of the field-men speak down to one of the other women, she reacted on instinct. Jumping clean across the room, landing right beside him, she drew her dagger mid-leap, pressing it against his chest, without breaking through the cloth, let alone skin. She made it abundantly clear she would have no trouble pushing it all the way through. "Do not speak to her like that..." she hissed out, disgust dripping from her mouth. "Had Thaddeus not needed you, you would have been dead now." She drew her dagger back, then sheathed it and turned around. Only then did she walk away again, taking a position along one wall near one of the exits, but close enough to hear the conversation.

Movement from across the room caught Rook's eye, and he slipped his hand under his silken tunic out of instinct, but the elf was faster. His fingers closed around a broad-bladed dagger, one of two in a small leather harness hidden by his lavish garb, and was ready to throw, but the tip of Thoraniel's blade was already at his chest. Too slow, too drunk. Should have kicked her.

"Do not speak to her like that..." she hissed at him. "Had Thaddeus not needed you, you would have been dead now."

Instead of flaring into a rage, he took a deep breath through his nose and his mouth curled into the smallest of smiles.

"You know, its cute and all what you just did..." he inclined his head toward Lila. "But I think the dame can handle herself. I have about as much a chance to crack open that treasure chest as I do to turn this here knotted wood into gold." He tapped his foot against the table they were all sitting around. "That being said, Thaddeus, make sure Miss Whiskey-sours over here keeps her blades pointed toward the enemy. I didnt come all this way to get killed by a poor sport, you hear?" He locked eyes with the Watchful, trying to convey the holy-shit-what-was-that feeling swimming in Rook's gut at the moment.

The Man of Fortune was feeling less fortunate by the minute. He took the small dagger already in his hands, went to clean under his nails, but realizing he had nothing to clean, slipped it back into its sheath and took a long, long drag from his ever-present white clay jug. After a moment, he lowered the jug and placed it on the table. "I dont work with anyone I dont know, and anyone I haven't had a drink with. So, bottom's up, dont be shy." He nodded to the jug, curious to see who would grab it first.

"I Don't say no to free drink, my friend, so don't mind if I do. I too value those I have shared drink with." Picking up the jug, Ghas took a deep swig before putting the jug back on the table. Smacking his lips appreciatively he continued: "Usually though, the drink would be a little something stronger than this. But this is isn't half bad. Rook, was it? Well met." He ended with a grin. "And I happen to agree with you on the fact that our dear Lila over there seems like she can handle a little banter."

Still it was a little worrisome that signs of tension were already showing between the different members of the group. Between Lila and Rook things would probably be fine. They seemed to be in a relatively comfortable relationship of mutual dislike. The elf, so quick to pull a dagger at Rook, would be a larger problem. Her reaction to Rook's comments could only be called reckless and irrational. Threatening a man who she would have to travel with for the foreseeable future, whom she would have to trust her life on, was a bad move. Not only that, but her little escapade had not been subtle. All the other party members might now be questioning the elf's trustworthiness.

Trust would be vital on the mission they were about to embark upon. Casting a sideways glance at the disgusting sword that had been the center of attention before, Ghas' hand unconsciously tightened around the hilt of his dagger. Not that the dagger would help if Ghas encountered such a sword wielded by one its Orcish masters. "Actually, I think that those who can't handle such banter better leave. If ye aren't that tough at least, you won't stand long to the trouble we are about to face."

Their gathering was something right out of legend. Elves, dwarves and humans joining together to fight some unknown evil. The people who enjoyed these kind of stories were often no adventures or heroes. Foolish young girls dreaming of knights in shining armor, sons of farmers aspiring to be knights. Celine knew reality was all but a different matter. Those stories made the world seem like it was all black and white, the reality was gray.

The young man sitting at the table with Thaddeus, he could be a farmers son. Hopefully he hadn't been raised with these heroic tales. The real word was cruel and she hoped for his sake that he had learned that already. She was still young herself but she knew that life wasn't a fairytale, not anymore.

With a last sip apple cider she washed away the strange taste of her spiced soup. She remained seated for a little while longer studying each of their faces. Even when one of them seemed to stare back at her, Celine was not deterred and kept looking. She recognized the delicate but sharp features of elves, the stature of dwarves and the fact that their presence seemed to overwhelm the young man next to Thaddeus.

When the hooded figure she had been watching put a dagger to a man's throat, Celine didn't even raise a brow, nor did her heart started to beat faster. She was very aware of the possibility that she was going to travel with this party but couldn't bring herself to care about the possible threat the hooded figure would pose. At the sound of her hissed warning, she found it was a woman. Well isn't she just scary? Celine thought mockingly.

After things quieted down at the table she saw it as an opportunity to join without too much commotion. She undid her cloak and hung it on the back of the chair seated next to the Watchful Man. The peasant dress she wore was old, the colors faded. The white having faded to ivory and a tan leather bodice meant to preserve some resemblance of an hourglass shape.

She seated herself, speaking in a calm even voice. "Quite the mix up we have here"
"I am Celine, the Godswife of the villages to the West"
This much she allowed them to know. She was actually quite curious to see what her title would stir up.

Thaddeus greeted each member of the company in turn as they gathered at the table. He let his eyes go over their faces, remembering how he had met them and what qualities in these individuals had made them stand out to him. This fellowship was a mixed bag in the end, but a potent one. There's a lot of potential in these people, Thaddeus thought to himself. Thoraniel's outburst against Rook reminded him that there was plenty of potential for friction as well.

"Let's not start off on the wrong foot already," Thaddeus said, his voice cutting through the conversation like a hot knife through butter. "We're all here for the same purpose and, believe it or not, we're on the same side. Don't fight each other." He replied to Rook's exasperated look with a warning glance -- keep yourself to yourself. He knew Rook could be a troublemaker in the group without even intending it. The man was basically a firestone ready to cause a spark, and others like Thoraniel were kindling.

The last member to sit down at the table, Celine, introduced herself. "Welcome, Celine," Thaddeus said and gave her his best welcoming smile. She had perhaps the most intriguing skill out of all of the gathered people here and one that Thaddeus personally knew very little about. Then again, Ghas' ironworking was beyond his understanding as well. The bear traps were impressive, though.

"Now then, I believe that's everyone," he said and clapped his hands together. "I'm sure you've all noticed the sword that our new friend Edward is carrying. It's an orc blade, no doubt about it. He obtained it in Woodhaven, his hometown, when it was attacked by orcs. This is the first time the orcs have ventured out of the Dark Forest and into Brackenhorst and it is also our first clue and destination. Fortunately, Woodhaven is not far from here. I know some of you traveled a long way to be here but I'm afraid you'll only get one night of rest, so make sure it counts." Thaddeus pointedly looked at Rook, suspecting the man of all sorts of nightly shenanigans. He scraped back his chair and stood up, briefly towering over the seated company.

"And remember, don't fight. Save your strength for the orcs. Meet me at the northeastern gate at dawn tomorrow. Get some rest soon. But first, let me buy you all a round of drinks." Thaddeus sauntered over to the bar and after a short conversation with the innkeeper and plenty of coin exchanging hands, a few serving girls brought each member of the fellowship a big mug of ale. Thaddeus sat down again and raised his ale. "To our quest and our health," he said and grinned.