[IC] What Are Heroes? (Pathfinder: Homebrew Setting)

[tobiax]

The sky was clear, the morning sun bright, the wind warm. The quiet town of Greensreach was just beginning to awaken as the sun streamed down over the mountain range to the north. Just inside the square, walled perimeter of the city, lush fields of grains rustled in the wind. Beyond that, the wooden fence marked the town proper, full of little houses, businesses, and a few inns.
In a handful of these inns, new guests slept, soon to awaken. An excessively large bird stood in the center of one room, staring down at a lump in the blankets. A rather shabby looking Tocadre in the same inn, however, was having far less peaceful sleep.

---

A stout Muspelheimr was having a familiar dream. The sound of thunder. Flashing eyes. The face of a white dragon. The vision then shifted, fading into blackness. From this darkness, a tree came into view. Beside the tree, an ax floated, drifting as if to chop down the tree, with none to wield it. However, the ax froze, everything going grey, before the dream turned to a flash of silver.

---

Within the walls of an expansive offwhite mansion, a rather stately man, dull blonde hair slicked back over his shoulders, sat at a desk, quill in hand, glaring down with slate grey eyes. Before him, various expense reports, ledgers of income, and crop yields were written on various sheets of parchment, in the middle of which was the well of dark ink, into which he broke his quill. He noted the current stock of crop stakes- far too few for the next planting season. A writ had been sent from the Macer Manor Home to purchase said items more than three days ago, but no reply had been given. The Brauchstehen man adjusted the light grey tunic against his shoulders, before standing. His posture was straight, his shoulders tall. He was the retainer of the house, after all.

Stopping at a simple door, the man knocked with the curled side of his fisted hand, "Curruid!"

[Riaxh]

Zezazu

Zezazu felt like he was floating. Having spent over three years sleeping in caves, on grass and nestled in tree hollows, he'd thought a soft bed would feel uncomfortable and alien to him now. Not so. The moment he'd laid down the previous night, he'd drifted off into restful slumber, with a twinge of guilt at how much he'd missed it.

Now something was jabbing him in the side, disturbing his peace. He eventually cracked an eye. It was the Thing, looming over him. It was probably hungry. It was always hungry. He yawned. A deep, annoyed sound. Skin curling back over his large teeth as he stretched his jaw, before rising from the comfy bed and finding something for the bird to eat. It was a good specimen, with grey white plumage. It had grown significantly in the short period since its hatching. Hopefully it would start being useful.

The Gnoll dressed whilst the small roc feasted happily, then exited the small room and entered the inn proper. It was early, though a few patrons were already about. He grabbed a carafe of water and seated himself at an empty table in the corner to wait. Sleeping in a bed was one thing, being around people again was another. There were always too many to keep an eye on at once. It made his skin tingle, like the hair he didn't have was trying to stand on end. Hopefully the wizard would not be too long. The only reason he was here at all was because of him. He didn't even know where the wandering Tocadre was headed, not that it mattered. He simply had a debt to pay to the man, and it would take as long as it would take.

[tobiax]

As Zezazu extracts the hunk of hide covered flesh from his belongings, he happens to look right into Temsu's eyes. Time seemed to stop as the sleepy gnoll looked into the Grey Spire Roc's deep black pupils. Within the eyes of his companion, Zezazu began to see the dark, sinister, yet familiar form of a man, tall and swathed in shadows- the image of Dargonal.

[Lord Orgasmo]

Namar

---

Namar sat in his seat in the corner of his room at the Inn, swirling his drink. His week long journey so far was mostly uneventful. He hadn't been attacked by bandits or wolves, and people didn't seem to really notice his small fangs or pale skin. It also probably helped that he didn't say much to anyone. Last thing he needed was someone getting pissed because he doesn't know how to talk to people.

He took a sip from his drink. It was some sort of tomato juice and pepper flakes. He just picked something random off the menu. Namar usually wasn't a fan of spicy things, but he had to admit, the drink was good.

Some time later, Namar walked down the stairs to the main floor. There weren't too many people out and about, but one person who caught his eye was some sort of hairless Gnoll and a bird. The first of many strange encounters, he was sure. The Monastery didn't get many visitors, and Namar wasn't familiar with many races, outside of what he was told, or had read, so this Gnoll was a strange sight indeed.

Namar picked a seat against the wall and leaned back. He began thinking on what to do next. He needed "experience" according to his superiors. What exactly that entails was up to him, he guessed. Travel the world, get in some fights, find some cool stuff, and finally have stories to tell some of the warriors that stop by the Monastery. He'd need to head out soon, but perhaps he'd stay behind and see if someone would let him tag along to the next town. Or maybe someone would even hire him.