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The Story So Far...

Chapter 1 - Humble Beginnings (Page 1 of IC)
Chapter 2 - Secondi Brook and Beyond! (Page 6 of IC)
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The Busted Mug. One of the finer inns of the city, where more half-races were allowed without much prejudice. If you could simply afford your drinks and room, the innkeep didn't mind you hanging around unless you broke a table or two. There was once a group of people who busted an entire door down after chopping a half-elf's head off. The place had to get new ownership after that since half of the inn burned. A few patrons gathered around the counter and tables, regaling in tales of their youth or gambling their hard earned cash away to the poker cheat. He always had a king. Alas, there's one person of intrigue here at the Busted Mug. At least, he was of some intrigue to the goblin that barged into the inn.

"Tobiash Shkinner! Ish Tobiash Shkinner in here anywhere?!"
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As he heard a small voice calling for his, he set down his drink and looked for the source of the voice Then he saw the small goblin at the doorway, receiving menacing glances from other bar patrons. He walked to the goblin and crouched in front of him. "Hello friend, I am Tobias, call me Toby. What can I do for you?" He said calmly, he didn't see goblins as trash like everyone else. They were actually quite interesting. So he decided to give it a shot.
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"Mashter called for you. You'd be payed beyond your wildesht dreamsh!" the goblin whispered, not wanting the rest of the patrons to hear and try to start a scene. "It'sh in a crypt off the shide of the chity! Come! Come! He can tell you the detailsh!" Regardless if Tobias accepted the offer, it was clear that, at the poker table with the cheat, the half-orc who just got cheated out of his cash began to bang on the table. Knowing how orcs work, this wouldn't end well. That alone was a good enough reason to bounce out of the inn. Of course, Tobias could always engage the half-orc, as his ax looked very valuable, but the specks of blood on the handle made it pretty clear that this orc knew how to use it.
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As the goblin said his little speech and the Orcish looking gentlemen had a tantrum, he decided to hear about this payment. "Let's take this outside, yea?" He said, softly, looking back at the goblin. Hoping that the orc wasn't looking for a fight, but he certainly wouldn't mind taking him on for that axe.
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'Hurry! Hurry!" the goblin tugged at Tobias' arm, trying his hardest to pull him towards Yashar's tower. "Mashter livesh in that tower. He will tell you what you need to know. We mushn't wait!" Several people outside the bar shot Tobias rather dirty looks, if only because he was a half-dwarf walking through a city full of monsters. It wasn't unheard of, but typically people like Tobias were either extremely high up in honor, or slaves to some kind of warlord. Tobias, being neither, wasn't exactly fitting in with the crowd all that well.

If Tobias cared to look, he would notice a flyer on the side of a building that read "The Paladin Protectorate. Now accepting the application of monsters. Headed by J. Light. Apply today at your local department!" If one thing was for sure, paladins really enjoyed overly-complicated systems for running things. It was more akin to how slowly a DBPV would run. Not only that, but they despised all forms of demonic powers and undead, oftentimes going out of their way to wipe out entire encampments of vampires and leaving no survivors. Hell, sometimes in the cities you'd see a paladin smashing a hammer into the face of a commoner under the vague claim they were a necromancer or that they practiced necromancy. They accepted goblins, though, despite no goblin ever obtaining a higher rank than a backup-squad leader.
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As he was being dragged by the goblin, he saw the flier and stopped him. "Hold on friend, come, see this." He said, walking towards the flier. "J. Light..." He murmured to himself. He took the flier and stuffed it into his pocket. "Okay, little friend, lead on." He said, looking towards the tower.
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The goblin led the way to the tower, only stopping when he had to in order to not get trampled by some horses or other large beasts. It took a good few minutes of walking, but at last, Tobias found himself at Yashar's tower. It was quite large, one of the largest structures in the entire city, intimidating many who found themselves under it's large shadow. "Musht shtay. Yashar doesh not like when I am there for information," the goblin mumbled, taking a seat on a pile of bricks beside a patchy tent. Seems that's where he slept most nights. It wasn't a terrible home, though, as he at least had a tent he could rest under. There was a solid bedroll under the tapestry, too, so it wasn't a problem.

The tower's door swung open, almost as if it was expecting Tobias to be there. The staircase just beyond the door was dimly lit by a few lanterns suspended from the walls, a sort of light magic illuminating the room. Quite thematic for a wizard such as Yashar, when someone thought about it.
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He looked at the tower. "Well... Uh... Okay." He said under his breath. He began walking in, keeping a hand on one of his pistols, with a fireball ready. "Hello? Anyone home?" He yelled, confused and worried that this was a trap.
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After ascending the staircase, Tobias found himself in a large room, filled to the brim with staves, books, magical relics, everything. It all centered around a large table, a singular man sitting at the end, looking towards Tobias with a dark scowl. "So you're the mercenary I've heard so much about." The man's voice sounded sinister, resembling the sound you would hear when you scraped your nails on a chalkboard, but a lot deeper. His robes showed that he was a man of elegance and business, but he loved to mess around with the powers granted by the arcane forces of the world. In front of him rested a closed scroll and a large bag of what looked like coins. "I have to say, I didn't expect you to be one of those... tall dwarves? You look like any old human, like me."

The man stood, from his seat, walking along the outside of the table with his hands concealed behind his back. "Ah, but you're not here for me to make simple talk with," the man said as he pointed towards Tobias with a very bony hand. "You're here because of something else. Fame? Wealth? Maybe something more personal? Whatever it is, I'm sure I can grant it."
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This new face wasn't a pleasant one, but this guy was about to be his next client, so he couldn't decline. His robes and surrounding pointed to a man of wealth. "I'm here because I was requested. I am here because you want to hire me for a job that you need done." He said, without the slightest hint of kindness. He didn't make friends with clients, especially when they sent servants to do their work for them.
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"Sure, sure, you're here for my request, but why are you really here? Answer that in your own time..." the man said as he lifted the scroll off of the table, showing it to the mercenary in front of him. "I am Yashar, one of the most powerful wizards this side of the continent. Over the last few years I've been searching for something powerful, a tome of infinite necromantic knowledge, if you will, written by the since-deceased Brock Sinclair," Yashar started, unraveling the scroll to reveal what the tome in question looked like. "Several of my allies pinpointed it's location to the nearby crypt, since walled-off by the Paladin Protectorate. The Believer's Den. While the dungeon has been cleared out for quite some time of the monsters and such, countless soldiers and adventurers had fallen to the denizen that lurks at the bottom in attempts to reclaim the tome, that is, as the story is told."

Yashar rolled up the scroll again, placing it back down onto the table. "In the end, myths are myths, and that tome possesses some of the strongest necromantic knowledge available to man. I want it. You will get it for me in exchange for wealth, power, and fame beyond your wildest dreams. Sound good?"

Yashar's hand was stretched, hanging in the air for Tobias to grab, should he accept this task.
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As he listened, he began to think. "I don't care about your philosophical crap, why would I give someone like you all of the necromantic knowledge known to us? Why should I trust you anyways?" He said, maintaining eye contact, refusing to break from his current character. He only did this to find out what this guy wanted it for.
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"Well... if you really must know... I had an apprentice by the name of Westley Stride, a half elf. He met his fate at the hands of a half-orc he was travelling with, and as such, he had lost his head. I've tried numerous different ways to... bring him back, but each and every attempt had been unsuccessful in keeping him around for more than a week at a time. I miss my student. There was so much more I could teach him..." Yashar trailed off, a tear falling from his eye. "I simply want my student back. Not as a slave, but as himself. As the half elf he was." Yashar's face turned to a set of armor in the corner, emblazoned with lavenders and reds, and adorned with multiple staves.

"I am unable to leave this tower. The Protectorate had raised barriers to keep me here for my life when they caught wind of my attempts to claim the tome. This is why I ask you, mercenary. Fetch the tome for me, and help reunite me with my lost student."
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"Fine. I'll do it." He said, not believing the 'dead student' trope. But, if it were true, he would still do it. "I'll return with the tome, if possible, I would like to take the goblin with me." He said, not wanting that goblin to stay around this dangerous town.
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"Oh joy! Retrieving the tome AND taking that dirty goblin off my hands! You're already better than the last guy!" Yashar commented as he handed the bag of golden coins to Tobias, the bag easily weighing a good pound or two. "Only serious businessmen pay up front. Go on now! Go get that dirty goblin and bring me my tome!" Yashar walked over to his balcony, standing out over it with a genuine smile on his face. He was happy as all hell that Tobias accepted his task. He just hoped that he could actually be successful at it. It was getting rather expensive hiring so many mercenaries only to not hear from them ever again. Bah, it helped tie up loose ends, he supposed.
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"A goblin is only as dirty as his master." He spoke rather loudly as he picked up the bag of coins and walked out, also swiping up a neat looking spell scroll. Seeing the goblin, he walked over to him, "Hello friend, would you mind joining me on an adventure?" He asked, hoping that his new friend would accept.
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"A-and leave mashter Yashar?" the goblin asked timidly. After a few seconds of silence from the goblin, he ran into his tent and grabbed a pretty large bag from within it, a dagger clearly sticking out of the side through torn fabric. "Gobbo will do my besht, mashter Toby!" A few seconds later, the tent behind the goblin sparked into flames. "Gobbo doeshn't need the tent. He hash found new friend!" As illiterate as he was, he was still charming in a childlike way.

As for the hand Toby grabbed the spell scroll with, he began to feel it itch with power. A glance at the label would reveal that the scroll contained the spell "Pyroblast", one of the most powerful fire spells ever created. Lucky grab! Right beside it was a scroll of "Ovinization." That turned people into sheep for around five seconds. Wasn't as useful unless you were putting on a show.

MEANWHILE, AT THE DEPARTMENT OF PALADIN RECRUITMENT...

"DAMMIT!" A manly voice boomed through the room. The paladin in question slammed his hand on the table, looking at the messenger boy with his helmet on, his eyes beaming with anger from underneath the mask. "You're telling me that Yashar found someone capable this time?!" The messenger nodded his head, leading to the paladin standing up from his seat and walking to his window, staring at Yashar's tower.

"Tell the Head Paladin that I am on it." The messenger boy ran out of the room in a rush, leaving the paladin at peace. Time to go to work.
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"Yes, dear friend. But I am not your master, I am your friend." He said, walking along side the goblin. He then began reading the scroll, learning the spells. The journey was on.
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"Gobbo knows the way to Believer's Den. Follow me!" Gobbo began to run through the streets, heading to the most convenient exit of the city. He tripped occasionally, but it was undermined by the fact that he continued being in high spirits even as he tripped.

As Tobias would read the scroll, he would find that he could not read the text. It was in Elvish, not Dwarven. Still, he could feel the power surging within him. If he decided to use the scroll for it's magical power, it would definitely be burned, but he would still be able to use the power of a Pyroblast once. At least, unless he found a way to learn it permanently.

It wasn't long before Gobbo smacked into the gate, or at least, what he thought was the gate at first. He actually smacked right into a paladin, a lower ranked one, but a man of mighty stature, who stood in front of the gate. The man looked directly at Tobias and spoke, his voice beaming with authority. "No passage without warrant."
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He looked up and put away the scroll. "Apologies friend. Mind telling me where I can get a warrant from?" He said, preparing a fireball, in hopes of finishing this guy off without any noise.
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